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i'll sketch you, mon ange
i'll draw you on the page, my pencil giving you immortality
poem four: french beauty
 Sep 2020 Harry Roberts
Mansi
Pity
 Sep 2020 Harry Roberts
Mansi
I am learning that self-pity
Is a dangerous thing
That must never
Be allowed into your mind

It might be comforting
In an unusual way
But in reality
It's slowly poisoning
Your mind
I'm not someone
You'll write a poem about
For I'm nothing like
The cashmere sweaters
You've clung to all your life.

My warmth to you
Is like the cold winter sun
Too distant to make you feel
Anything for too long.

I might catch your eye
But your soul would easily skip mine.

And I'm not someone
You will rescue
Rather I'm the wreck
You will leave behind.

So when my heart breaks
Watching you look at me
In the rear view
I will tell myself.

That maybe this is the fate
Of a wildflower and a Vase.
for the dilation
I search
for the expansion
For I wish
that when you look at me
your pupils
show me more
then what you have said.
Have I already
shown that to you?

Will there be that moment
silence
but meaning
in your eyes.
Will your body
give yourself away?
Or am I
Hopelessly waiting
I think of you today, as I often do
And with aching heart and shaking hand
I’ve decided to write a poem, about you, for you.
Because I want you to know that I love you.

I love your hair, the way it falls and flows,
And the way you dress takes my breath away.
I love the sound of your voice
And the idea of your hand in mine.

Above all, I love your mind
Every shining star and every dark corner.
In truth, I love everything about you.
But these are the words I’ll never say.

Because if I do, I could lose you.
Instead I’ve started telling myself
I don’t love you anymore
And maybe, one day, I’ll believe it too.
 May 2019 Harry Roberts
Cherry
My family and I ,we self built the house we live in.
We put so much effort on building the walls that keep us protected now.
Spending days and days to make everything fit together like a solid piece that could never break.
Four humans of this big big world
each of them with his own broken soul
Trying so hard to make a grounded foundation
Hoping that building walls would help us build a happy family
But broken people can't build happy families.
And as days pass I see these walls standing high as the people inside crumble to pieces destroying eachother.
When the word "home" looses meaning.
This unending ocean and its waves,
trying to meet the skies at a no man's island..
its Blue everywhere..
a place where I can hear my heartbeat and each of your whispers
a place where I can spread my arms but can never lock you in-between them..
its blue everywhere..
a spot where your memories were buried..
a spot where my desires were sent to grave..
its blue everywhere..
its more than a color, more than a feeling, more than a place;
its where you and me can meet and live together forever
its blue everywhere..
 Feb 2019 Harry Roberts
JP
My temperamental
T E M E R I T Y
Has driven me to
I N S A N I T Y
And it's a
M Y S T E R Y
Why I sabotage
S T A B I L I T Y
For things that drive me
C R A Z Y
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