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Life is a beautiful condescending labyrinth of emotions. Some of us just get mixed up in between it all.
Feeling nothing.
A young girl of only nine years,
stands in the doorway as her mother disappears.
As she zooms down the road,
the girl wonders why.
Her sister explains,
as she begins to cry.

Her father is gone,
never to return.
The tears stream down her face,
and her eyes start to burn.

He had left them for good,
God took him back home.
Her best friend had vanished,
she was left all alone.

Her father is dead,
she will see him once more.
He will lay in his casket,
and be lowered into the floor.
On June 29th, it will be exactly 6 years since I lost my best friend. I was 9 years old.
The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that I fall in love daily
Held under so many captivating spells
moulded and crafted by all walks of life
I find myself longing for all of you
the broken, the fallen, the bruised
the saints, the sinners
the righteous, the dispossessed
the holy, the unholy
all meet here
to speak of life
as they feel it
as only we know it.
Onwards, upwards
Downward spirals
kindness, cruelty
crashing through boundaries
bounding across oceans
carried on wistful sighs and broken dreams
The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that it breaks my heart
Then brings me back to love again
All within an hour.
Liar, liar hanging there,
How does it feel when people stare?
Do you return their wicked glare?
Or try too hard to breathe the air?

Liar, liar why are you dead?
Is it because of the words you said?
Your body is apart from your head
Lying in a box-like bed

Liar, liar did you see this as your fate?
Or were you among the others in this debate?
Either way it's too late
That's why you now stand at hell's gate!
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