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 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
Michelle
We were together. That was enough.
 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
Dayton
Tell me something new
Something I haven't heard before.
Tell me something cool
Something that won't ever make my ears sore.
I promise I'll listen.

Use your imagination
And paint me a pretty picture.
Use your alliteration
I'm dying to see it with you.
I promise I'll see it.

Lets make a story
One that no one has ever known.
Lets make it showy
One to be put on display and shown.
I promise they'll read it.

I'll have you a book
One to read when you're all alone.
I'll make you stay hooked
Make you wish you where never home.
I'll promise it will be good.

But can you make me a story?
For when the days seem far too long?
Can someone help me not feel lonely?
I'm still hoping I'm not really alone.
I can't really promise anything
Just something I felt I should write. No real reason behind it, just feeling...
Alone
 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
Styles
As the story goes, Picasso was walking though the market one day when a woman spotted him. She stopped the artist, pulled out a piece of paper and said, “Mr. Picasso, I am a fan of your work. Please, could you do a little drawing for me?”

Picasso smiled and quickly drew a small, but beautiful piece of art on the paper. Then, he handed the paper back to her saying, “That will be one million dollars.”

“But Mr. Picasso,” the woman said. “It only took you thirty seconds to draw this little masterpiece.”

“My good woman,” Picasso said, “It took me thirty years to draw that masterpiece in thirty seconds.”
Do you think I like being covered in tired skin?
truest thing I've written to the masses
But, the you that I knew will not be forgot.
 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
Leah
I believed in the word "you"
There were "us" between you and I.
 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
Bails B
Someday, darling, we will make history.
 Jan 2015 Delaney Smith
arham
I am bad at falling in love
I trip over the broken bones of every word I never found the guts to say
I am broken more often than I am whole and even then I am still broken
I write dreams and fantasies at the back of my hand
I misspell the word trust on a daily basis
I dance with my own shadow when dusk settles down
I whisper truths only when the lights go out
I make sure I'm alone in already empty rooms
I hold my breath and scribble notes, scrambling to survive
This is a work in progress.
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