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Would you listen to me if I said I've once been deceived to believe
That I was born to be chained and never freed ?
Born to be
A laughing stock to my haters
A stepping stone for my oppressors
A naïve girl to my betrayers

What if I told you that at the age of 5,
I wanted to die ?
That because of my past, I wanted to commit suicide ?
I remember being in the kitchen, holding tight a knife
Then I heard a voice within me scream, "It's not your time!"

Would you take my advice if I asked you to pray ?
And if you do it with a contrite spirit,
Angels will come your way ?
And if you do it with consistency,
Your blessings won't delay ?
And if you do it with humility,
Your soul will be saved ?
I've had my fair share of dissapointments, setbacks, betrayals, back-stabbing, manipulation, oppression and deception. I found my way, and it's only right that I help others find theirs.
Man and woman, though different
Are equal in the eyes of God.
inexplicable though true but still
Unacceptable for some perhaps

Man is the highest of all creations
Woman is the most sublime of all Ideals.
God made for a man a throne,
for a woman an altar.
the throne exalts,
The altar sanctifies.

Man is the brain.
woman is the heart.
The brain fabricates light while
The heart produces love.
light fecunds,
Love resuscitates.

Man is the code.
Woman is the gospel.
The code corrects
As the gospel perfects.

Man is the genius while
Woman is the angel.
The genius is undefinable
And the angel is immeasurable.

Man is strong in reason
but woman is invincible in her tears.
Reason convinces the most stubborn
Just as tears soften the hardest of mortals.

Man is the ocean
And the woman is the lake.
The ocean has it's pearls that adorn;
The lake has its poems that dazzle.

**Man stands where the earth ends;
And woman where heaven begins.
This was made by my mom when she was in college. She asked me to post this. Im so proud. Love you mama! ❤
Let me:
Drink this beer to forget the taste of your sweet lips, drowning it with a bitter edge.

Smoke this cigarette to replace the air gone at times you took my breath away
while the nicotine becomes my lungs' drug to remove your scent from my system

*all these vices to forget and end the life planned with you
Let me have
A last look
At your green horizon
Take me in your dream
To Warsaw and beyond
Before I fall asleep,
With a smile on my lips.
It was October
He was inside me
I was crying.
Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O, no, thy love, though much, is not so great;
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
    For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
    From me far off, with others all too near.
Nothing to see, so I'll stop looking
Nothing to say, so I'll stop talking
Nothing to hear, so I'll stop listening
Nothing to do, but I'll keep thinking
Always thinking
About everything here, in this world
About everything up, in this sky
About everything done, in this life
About everything except, nothing
Never nothing
Twenty-first. Night. Monday.
Silhouette of the capitol in darkness.
Some good-for-nothing -- who knows why --
made up the tale that love exists on earth.

People believe it, maybe from laziness
or boredom, and live accordingly:
they wait eagerly for meetings, fear parting,
and when they sing, they sing about love.

But the secret reveals itself to some,
and on them silence settles down...
I found this out by accident
and now it seems I'm sick all the time.
This poem is dedicated to her...

The waves upon
Our sore bare feet
The water in
The desert's heat.
The flowers growing
From the street
The breeze that's blowing
Through the wheat
The neighbor that
You finally meet
Who's friendly with
A smile to greet
Who bids you
Come and have a seat

The story that your
Grandma tells
The ringing of bright
Silver bells,
Fountains from
the deepest wells
Those are poems

From my Melz!



SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 28, 2014
Melz was one of the first
To greet me back here.
She was having some troubles
With certain individuals.
They are sorry and
have backed off...

Thanks!
I Love You
       *
*Hello Poetry
That is all...
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