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 May 2014
LETITFXRING
Darkness was all there was
Darkness was all I seen

Give me light
So I can be on
My way


Just a little light
Just a little light

**Can help
3 Stanzas
10w
 May 2014
Chalsey Wilder
I find that everyday's dull and grey
And I'm left to rediscover it on my own
I wake up to see the same display that I can't get rid of
I've come to see that one day everything dies
I've come to see that everyone lies
i've come to see that people just survive, and try to love to stay alive
Some just try to stay together and not fall a part
Nothing matters
Everything matters
With so little time
With so little space
Everything matters
And yet
Nothing does
Nothing matters to me but writing
Being mortal, having achievements does matter
Cause after you're dead those are the things you're remembered for
Being immortal, you have all the time in the world
up until the world ends that is (which isn't that far away in my belief)

But I am mortal
I want to be a writer to show people my age and younger that language is beautiful and is still alive
And to keep it alive!!

I may find that one day people will be too far gone and I may be in heaven or hell
*I am forsaken
hmmmmm
He has no use for them now,
so he opened this shoppe.
The sign there says, "OPEN,"
but no soul dares stop.

Through the translucent windows
the townsfolk walk past.
On the dusty wood floors,
all their shadows are cast.

Lining stone walls
are the rusted old toys,
some all-telling relics
from a hopeful young boy.

The patrons just see
some tainted old junk,
in a shop being run
by some lonely old drunk.

No one buys what he sells,
so he silently cries;
A little boy hidden
behind those old, mist shrouded eyes.
Just a poem about my fear of growing old.  Wasted potential and alcoholism are common themes in my family. I don't want to end up like the rest.
I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful,  but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious.  It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very,  very tragic.
 May 2014
Lunar
beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display
If you ever end up falling
you could never catch yourself
is this the reason why
you never say 'I love myself' ?
 May 2014
anonymous999
im screaming at the clock to please stop ticking seething at the moments that won't stop sprinting through oh why are you running away i am crying for the nights that i was not crying i am longing for the nights when you longed for me too i'm searching for the time i've lost because who gave it the right to just ******* run away
i'm sitting here in pieces shattered by a memory
who gave it the right
to just become a memory?
 May 2014
Mikaila
When people do awful things to you and you don't punish them the way they think they deserve,
They punish you the way they think they deserve.
 May 2014
Pea
It begins when a
butterfly dies. My stomach
is an insect grave.
 May 2014
Eliana
feeling broken is
looking at everything

you wish you could want
to do and realizing

you are not good
enough
 May 2014
Poetic T
I am the embodiment of all
things good and trustworthy,
I have a devilishly seductive
smile.

Come on you know you can
trust me, look in to my eyes,
there hypnotizing wouldn't
you say.

''yes I understand''  

You know what to do, just sign
on the dotted line, repayment in
ten years then you owe what is mine.

'' I'll sign so it can be mine''

Sign in red on the dotted line,
as he smiles with a raised eyebrow
the deal nearly sealed, you can
trust me, as the black feather tip
scratches across the line.

I am the embodiment of all things
good and trustworthy, he says
and the deal is done, devilishly
he smiles, see you in ten years,
trust me ill back now the deal is done....
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