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 Sep 2014 David Hall
Marian
Please enjoy each today
So you can enjoy
Every tomorrow

*~Marian~
Just A Random 10w I Had Written A Few Days Ago...
Hope You Enjoy It!!! :) ~~~~~~<3
 Sep 2014 David Hall
r
sundy
 Sep 2014 David Hall
r
Sundays
come in two flavors-
hallelujah
and goody powder

goody powders
go down easier
with flavored water

not the **** variety
but strawberry
or cherry

wall clock
goes ****
****
where's my ****

hallelujah-
FIRE

r ~ 9/7/14
\¥/\
|   I kid you
/ \
Incense sticks burning
Aroma spreads across the room
Thoughts swirling away
Silence prevails within
Shall you forever follow the ways of your selfish desires?
Surely you know where you are leading yourself.

If I had the power I would give you my insight for the toils you shall endure.
We must all learn one way or another.
Although some would choose to continue grabbing the hot stove.

Spiritually  **Dead
Absolutely nothing.
 Sep 2014 David Hall
oakley
I'm sorry I left so soon.
I wasn't planning on it.
It just happened without warning.
I'll miss you.
But don't worry, we'll see each other again some day.
I'm here if you want to talk, I just won't respond.
I'd talk to you if I weren't busy pushing up daisies.
 Sep 2014 David Hall
Komara Wyss
I've always been small, underweight, and short.
Maybe that's why my dreams have always been big, larger than life.
At 3 I was going to be a Queen and rule the kingdom.
At 5  an astronaut was my calling.
By 7 I would be president.
At 12 a noble prize winner in medicine, curing every disease in the world.
15 a world traveler offering aid and ending injustice.
16 taking over the world seemed more my style.
Now I'm 18 barely an adult and my biggest dream is love.
Earth shattering, world changing, unstoppable,contagious love.
After all these years I want hand holding, cuddles, lame jokes, stupid fights.
I want taking his hoodies, date nights, cooking food, dancing in the rain.
I want romance, I want hard and easy times, the good and the bad.
I want commitment.
I want him to be mine.
 Sep 2014 David Hall
David
I know several who write so-called "poetry".
But their work reads less like art, emotion, philosophy.
And more like practiced mimicry of such.
It's got "rhythm and rhyme".
But lacks "rhythm&rhyme;".
It doesn't dance with your heart to the samba of excitement that races through you.
It doesn't catch your ear with cleverly chosen sounds like nature does through the birds.
It flops around on the dance floor, to some once-famous pop singer, making as big a scene as possible, in the hopes of catching your attention.
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