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Violet Rose Jan 2017
His eyes were the colour of the southern shallow sea just before the break of a gentle wave at shore in the first hour of sunrise
January 28th, 2017
Violet Rose Nov 2016
I wish to be in Solitude,*
Away from countless distractions and useless epiphanies.
I wish to be in Solitude,
Away from tiring conversations of endless encounters.
I wish to be in Solitude,
I long to sit in silence, a blanket of tranquility,
To only hear my own slow breathing.
I long to listen to the trees,
While a wave of wind flows over me, into Serenity.
I long to close my eyes,
To only see my gentle hands and the natural colors of the woods when I open them.
I long to see these vibrant colors of life again,
Not to be diluted by monotonous greys.
I long to clear my head of anyone’s voice that is not my own,
Allowing only the harmonic song that the flowers sing of healing.
I long to heal and to rest,
To forgive my brain and body of self-inflicted harm.
I wish to be in Solitude.
11-28-16
Green ocean of your beauty has taken me with tide
But my love insists my love to spread far and wide
Let me embrace you and to be with you side by side
Vehement beauty has violently taken over as guide

I follow you as a man spellbound under some force
Let emotions and sentiments take their natural course
Today may be the day to kiss and caress to enforce
In any remorse you my sweetheart remain a resource

I want to be with you throughout as a good companion
My love in its entirety allows beauty to carry burning sun
In this world I can not see any one else like you my mission
My all flowers bloom in you you are my that spring season

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Violet Rose Nov 2016
Woke up today with a slight pain behind my eyes and an offset to my balance, but with the satisfaction as well as the nostalgia of an impulsive but extraordinary night, bettering mundane acts in their simplistic beauty of inconsistency and the natural routine of humanity.
Nov. 2016
  Nov 2016 Violet Rose
Margo Polo
i like to poison myself
when i think of you
  Oct 2016 Violet Rose
Rapunzoll
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

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my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
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