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On the most lonely nights
When my thoughts can't help but wander to you
I ponder and debate
How much longer I would let
Your words dictate my well-being

But when the well-welcomed sun touches the horizon
I dream the haunting thoughts have resided
Once and for all

On occasion, when the lonely nights
Return
I fall asleep to the thought of you
And wake up to find
That you had never left my mind
I wrote this sometime last year for my English class, and I just found it again. I hope you enjoy.
My heart - it speaks Your name;
Like a fire contained within my soul
It consumed me.
And I cannot keep silent.
Of how the way you love me.
 Jan 2015 Gracieh Nimmoh
Gil Meza
any poet will tell you
any honest poet
will tell you,
the most difficult thing to do
is write about
them,
a good poet will tell you
it is cheating,
a bad one
nothing at all
inspiration?
a muse?
those are not needed
a poet is affected
by the smallest of trivialities

‘’why the hell is jeopardy still on?’’

‘’I asked for extra pickles on this
sandwich,
and there is no mustard on here’’

by the Yankees winning the series,
again,
a poet is driven by more
than the presence or absence of
love,
god,
***,
music,
money in the bank
his day will be molded
by the smallest of trivialities,
you turning off your lights,
the presence
or absence
of the sun,
a single mom crying in Toledo,
down to her last drop,
a homeless pet,
braver than you
or
I
by war,
or lack of it,
by a new president,
or an old one,
a poet is affected
by the smallest of trivialities
so be careful
when you shut off your lights
Beer bottles empty fast

And before you know it
You're face down in a black hole
Of all the words she said
That dug twelve foot tunnels in your veins
And went there to die

Then you're suffocating in a puddle
Of ache and spilled liquor
Dangerously falling for the concept of death

But who knows
Someone might save you
*Or someone might not
Private Paradise:
Beware !
Barbed off by a generous brook
It smells of decent paychecks
success, children and books.  
It's all perfect really.
The monkey bars and slide
all green and clean
await your tender sons's arms;
waiting for the that time,
where you can give them yours.

Big victorian mansion/ island
spotting the minty green horizon,
A speck of comfort in an
artificial wilderness
near a safe and sterile street.  
Surely you feel one must resist
it's call and live the normal life;
how could you surrender to
such a pleasure which seems
to shine so unaturaly bright ?
Yet,
you can feel the summer air,
the ******* that seem to never
ever ware off .
The top, so far from mortal life:
an Olympus for mortal men.
Hooks you by the senses:
you can see your family
you can hear them call
you can smell the barbecue
and forget it all.

The sweat rises to pearly drops:

*It's for sale.
Got the inspiration by looking through my old neighbourhood on google street view. The house in question in located 2084 W Valley Rd / Bloomfield Hills / Michigan / USA.
It would feel so good.
People always wonder
why do people do drugs?
Why do people smoke?
Because it's one of the only things
that will be there for someone.
Love disappears
People leave
*Disasters happen
and that cigarette
will always be there
waiting for you to pick it up
and feel the calm that sweeps through your body.
 Jan 2015 Gracieh Nimmoh
ryn
I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight
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