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She was obsessed and suicidal
what else can i say.
I could only be there so much.
If poetry dies
We all fall apart.
If poetry dies,
Will the sun not shine anymore?
Because the sun is poetic in its own way.
It radiates.
It illuminates.
It inspires.
And if poetry dies
Art dies.
Poetry is everything.
Its existed for centuries.
See this is brought people together since forever ago.
And today, it brings us together.
you and me
And whoever else's poems you delight yourself with.
We create a community.
On this site.
People from all over the world.
Each of us with a story to tell
And one talent we show
Isnt it great?
A tradition that must live on.
The art of emotion
Some complex
Others delightfully simple.
Creates us,
Our creativity
And the desire to write something new
Something **great
For all poets who want to keep the tradition of poetry ALIVE!!
God is the manna of our life.
If we choose to take him and alow him in our lives, he will nurture us and make us strong. God has always been here for us, and always will be. That is what is so amazing about god our father. He is an all knowing, all loving father, who is faithful and just to forgive
With every word she speaks of him
It hurts my soul
It looks like
blood soaking through paper
****, im about to slip
Will you catch me
Or let me slip
*the choice is yours
I was so foolish to believe
*you actually loved me
Dark days are coming.
Through thick scars and a veil of disapointment
i see that now
My darkness seems to penetrate the light
Like church bells in a quiet breeze.
I am losing myself on a base that cannot be recovered.
This hell is my obituary.
This is me letting go.
Accepting my fate.
I hunt my challenge
And prepare
To live
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