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  Sep 2016 Francis T
Doug Potter
We walked two miles through July wheat fields
that undulated  beneath Sunday morning sun
like golden swans.

The pond was glacier stone smooth, and canopied
by silver maple and swamp oak; willows lined
the  banks.

Miriam unfastened her hair, tossed her blouse
over my shoulders,  kicked her cut-offs
toward the boat’s bow,

and dove.
Francis T Sep 2016
Love isn't something you can just make up
It forms
It also isn't a toy
You can't just stop your love for someone when it gets boring
People who treat love like a game haven't felt true love
Nither have they felt that feeling at all
They haven't felt the true meaning of love
That's why people always try to hurt themselfs
Telling themselfs that they will never find someone

They can't find anyone when they say these things
It blinds them from seeing many opportunities
There stuck in there own world they've created
They trapped themselfs inside cages and act like wild animals
When all they have to do is turn the handle to let them out
Feeling traped sends them into a endless pit of darkenss and sadness
Which leads them into hurting themselfs or ending there lives
When there is so much more to life then they think

Love is the most beautiful feeling
Better then the rest
It's more filling and never leaves you empty
Love can do crazy things
Things that seem impossible

Love is the motivation the world needs in order to function
This is for anyone who has lost people to suicide. I've felt the way your feeling, helpless, useless... The next time if someone is thinking about ending there priceless lives. Save them :) And let them know that you care :)
Francis T Sep 2016
Her eyes are like the night sky
Dark but with little stars in the distance
Each star tells a drifferent story

You have no time to react when you lock eyes and you feel as if your trapped
Not trapped but stuck...
No longer able to feel and your face becomes very rosey
Your petals being plucked one by one
Petals you never knew you could lose

But beauty isn't just about sunshine and happiness
Everyone has there own deamons
Her eyes have many different storys to tell
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