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David Hall Aug 2019
Life is a game
that noone will want to play with you
if you go around pointing it out.
David Hall Sep 2017
I'm not sure when it happened.
When I stopped moving foward.
Surely it couldn't always have
been this way.

Did I get here by accident?

Somewhere on the road to middle age,
I pulled my sensible sedan
to the side of the road.

Sitting under a shady overpass
content to watch the world
pass me by.

I can't do this.

I can't sit still.

Life is movement,
growth,
change,
and struggle.

To stop moving forward
to stop struggling
to stop growing
to stop changing

is to stop living!
David Hall Apr 2017
of all the million moments
that make up a life,
the ones I shared with you
will be what flash before my eyes
at the end of it all.
David Hall Apr 2017
on certian serendipitous days
I gather a glance through a golden window
of the tantalizing truth

THE ONLY REALITY IS THE ONE WE CREATE

elusively it avoids my grasp
flashing through my frantic fingers
realizing revalation I resolve

to let it land on my soul like a butterfly
David Hall Dec 2016
a poem for the perturbed
partially peeved
marginally miffed
indirectly disturbed

not for those in love
not for loss or for longing
not for the haughty highbrow
half hazardly happy saps
that drown you in their
dizzily delerious
words about joy and wonder

this poem is for the average joe
joe sixpac joe normal
kicked back, laid back
ignoble informal

working class
pain in the ***
foul mouthed, burnout
college drop out
that doesn't have two
sweet words to rub together

this poem is for me

and you... if you want it.
was just reading through all the happy sappy poems on hear and not really feeling those emotions right now, but wanted to write something anyways
David Hall Oct 2016
in the morning
just after you wake up
or the evening
perfected with makeup

in jeans or a skirt
silk blouse or t-shirt
hair up or hair down
bright smile or a frown

inside and out
with nary a doubt

you are one of the most beautiful women
I have ever had the honor of knowing
David Hall Jul 2016
a whisper, a spark
is there something in the dark
a glance, a smile
a dance could be worthwhile
heart skips, mind races
is there something more than faces
a requiem for a daydream
with a deck devoid of aces
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