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Petals in the wind
Take me for a spin.
******* away
So the fears can't stay.

Grass grows greener
As her words turn meaner.
Sky stays blue
I'll keep true
Until the grave takes you.

Butterflies gather 'round
As my thoughts leave town.
Father doesn't care.
All he does is stare.

Leaves burn to a crisp,
Reminding me of all I missed.
You didn't protect me.
Never where you should be,
I was alone in this world
You only thought of me as a little girl.

Ray beams of sun.
Look what you've done.
I can't be fixed,
When your hearts in the mix.

Locked in my head
Every book I've ever read.
There's a story of a girl
Who couldn't handle the real world.

I made my own reality;
To deal with his harsh brutality.
Other children have toys,
But I only have head noise.

The people in my dreams
Make life better than it seems.
No one understands
Why I can’t deal with the demands.

Imagining helps me escape
From this terrible place.
All I had to do was make haste.
But my feet were made of past.
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe
Take This Kiss Upon THE Brow!
AND IN Parting From YOU NOW
Thus Much LET ME Avow-
YOU ARE NOT Wrong, WHO Dream
That MY Days Have Been A Dream
YET IF Hope HAS Flown Away
IN A Night OR IN A DAY
IN A Vision OR IN None
IS IT Therefore THE Less Gone?
ALL That WE SEE OR Seem
IS BUT A Dream Within A Dream.

I Stand Amid THE Roar
OF A Surf Tormented Shore
AND I Hold Within MY Hand
Grains OF THE Golden Sand
HOW FEW! YET They Creep
Through MY Fingers TO THE Deep
While I Weep- While I Weep
O Goodness! CAN I NOT Grasp
Them With A Tighter Clasp
O Goodness! CAN I NOT Save
ONE From THE Pitiless Wave?
IS ALL That WE SEE OR Seem
A Dream Within A Dream?

Written BY : Edgar Allan POE
Born January 19, 1809, Boston, Massachusetts, U.S. American short-story writer, poet, critic, and editor Edgar Allan Poe's tales of mystery and horror initiated the modern detective story, and the atmosphere in his tales of horror is unrivaled in American fiction. His The Raven (1845) numbers among the best-known poems in national literature.
You were the real "American Dream",
and you supplied our lives with endless delight. You gave us long lasting smiles every time you'd step up to a fight.

In four plus decades, you never quit. With over fifty titles under your name, won all with wit.

Your legacy will forever be imprinted in history. Your name forever in our hearts. You showed wrestling isn't just entertainment but it's also an art.

Virgil "Dusty Rhodes" Runnels Jr,
from the west shores of America to the east shores of Japan, you will always be loved by each one of your fans.

For you were more than a man, and you were more than a dream, you were the real deal, and an inspiration to me.

So I say my goodbyes and show my respect in this short and tacky poem. A new king in the heaven of legends has now taken the throne.
Legendary professional wrestler Dusty Rhodes died today at the age of 69. He was truly a legend and this is my dedicated to him.

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Follow me as well!
Is it trust? Or is it pain?
Belief or a chain?
Is there anything to gain?

Those words flicker,
As sadness gets thicker,
And loss comes quicker...

Yet hope remains still,
High atop an empty hill,
With paper and quill.

It rewrites your fate...
But is it now too late?
I was thinking....

Maybe humans are
More like our
Devices
Than we realize

You see,
We can die inside
All we want
And it's no big deal
No one really cares

But also,
As long as
We are physically alive
All we need
Is for someone
To replace our batteries
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