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tell me who broke you but don't say my name too loud
maybe it's because i get lost in your eyes,
maybe it's because i can't tell day from night
i'll let you drag me to hell if it means you'll hold my hand
 Feb 2015 Elizabeth Fruin
Eudora
Such luscious lips, with pinkish glow!
She's beautiful.

*
Her chapped lips,  faucet like,
cascade only words of kindness..
She's beautiful.

Such pretty,alluring eyes!
She's beautiful.

Her heavy-lidded eyes : a pair of lenses
capturing only great sharp shots,
they see clearly only the good in people..
They never despise.
She's beautiful.

Such a lovely, curvaceous figure!
She's beautiful.

Within the slim figure,  is a soul
who'll share her food with the hungry,
even if it means she'll be left with nothing
for dinner.
She's beautiful.

*
Beauty is only skin deep..
Inspired by a brief chat with a dear friend today and Audrey Hepburn's insights on beauty
'Look beyond the features, it is reflected in the soul..'
 Feb 2015 Elizabeth Fruin
Adele
The words they speak
are sharper than blades
And their looks,
daggers that could tear a skin
Their eyes are blind,
can't see what's inside

Like shadows they creeped
Stabbing backs and innocence deemed
Always lurking in the darkness
Justice they served
but lives diminished

Your flaws are
something they gaze
The truth made me daze
The word equality is no
longer in their vocabulary
How can they fire bullets
without thinking the lives
they perceived

Trash in their brains
are twirling like a tornado
slowly messing their thoughts
slowly killing feelings, everywhere they go

Dictated by their own free will
Cowered in fear as they
thought it was real
What they've seen,
deception in mutilation
Power overrule by those who torture
Torturing minds, creating lies
The innocent happily flying kites
But they cut it with pure contempt
Convincing they will get
that chance again
"Listen to the words you seek
Don't listen to a word they say
Do NOT listen to a word you've heard
Do not listen to a word you've heard
People are people we live for our own
Live how you think not by what you've been told"

In God's eyes we're all the same
where do you think we all came?
Don't let them fool you
By their tools of deception
We are all the same
We will die someday
So maybe, it's time for a change.

-
*Adele Karla & Erenn
"Let us start the change we want to see. The change that begins in me." Ending the poem with a prayer of hope.

Thank you Erenn! Especially for helping me out with my ink. Always been a good time collaborating with you. Society should hear this :D
 Feb 2015 Elizabeth Fruin
Adele
The midnight sonata
invites the chill wind
To come and dance with the piano
key. So gentle and sweet
It whispers schmaltzy cries
With the uptempto beat comes
a tapping feet.The stillness of
the night makes the  spirit alive
How enchanting is the stars
gleaming in your eyes
I can see myself floating
under the celestial sky
Dreaming in a serene wonder
of your warm embrace,
I woke up in a chorus of
tranquil space.*

a.k.
 Feb 2015 Elizabeth Fruin
ryn
Flame
 Feb 2015 Elizabeth Fruin
ryn
.
•    
re-
     kindle
    the spark
   that governed
    this game•the fire
  that once burnt as bri-
  ght as sun•all of this once
before, had a name•but now
is weak from the time it had be-
gun•there was a time when it wo-
uld consume•......it would defy the
odds....just so it could burn as one•
frantic and desperate for the magic
to resume•uncertainty has carved
itself into the heart that has come
undone•winds bearing ill no-
tions revealed as the enemy•
stitch up the gaps keep-
ing out the rogue
gust•
  pro
tect
  the
light that burns ever weakly•rejuve-
nate the spirit that harbours broken trust
•rekindle me now... i'm still in the game•
the heart                   save the     you will
isn't                              candle           need
ready                           and              to see
to make                         nur-              me    
sense                            ture             with
of the                             it                 this
dark•                             to                  in-  
                                    fla-              sig-  
                                   me•             nia
                                     ­                     as my
                                                         mark
                                                         •
.
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