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So we live life
Live it with theses...
With these things...
These things...
So inaptly named
All the time
Wondering
Confused about things
Like why these photographs
Really aren't frozen memories
And looking back
On love and such
Realizing
It was so much more...
Much more than...
More than...
Words
Used to name things in the end
 Feb 2016 JR Potts
Sam Payne
I am not beautiful enough for you anymore.
I was seeing many girls
when she stormed into my life
broke my run with her resolve
to find her place as wife.

I was seeing many girls
when she came reined me in
halted me with all her force
determined to win.

I was seeing many girls
my dream was up to stars
when she arrived fully knowing
this man was soon to be hers.

I was seeing many girls
none of them could be wife
she knew it when she came
I would stick on her for life.
He tried to spit out the truth;
Dry-mouthed at first,
He drooled and slobbered in the end;
Truth dribbling his chin.
"                        "
      !            :                  ,                .
              ,            ,            ,                .
      ,              ;                              !
                    ,
 Jan 2016 JR Potts
Batool
Horcrux !!
 Jan 2016 JR Potts
Batool
The words she scribbled
were not about her
but still
they concealed a part of her soul
because
they were her horcrux !!
For all her life
she waited for someone
who'd read all
of her writings
to find her pieces
and put them together
to make her whole
but no one ever tried
so she lived
entrapped in her
horcruxes
as a prisoner of immortality !!
the tales of our todays
   splash into     tomorrow
my veins appear     bluer
     my joints creak louder
as if anxious for attention

hours pass while in some strange
     autopilot   stupor
paddling     among     memories
that bleed monochrome
   feel like sand   slipping
painlessly     from my ears

bright   names have grown   grubby
as years dribble     away
   from my hands

it must be universal

what’s the   medical   name
for over-reminiscing
   coupled with   too   much     thinking

sad hellos   float   in the wind
   goodbyes punch harder
     and occur too often

our misery clings to the windows
   like April   raindrops
     the language of young     manhood
smudged together in the mist
   incoherent     grey clouds
we remember   this but     not that

my spine   aches
I     misplace things
and next   week and next   month
     stumble into view
blurry as a frozen drink
   dangerous to     touch
Written: January 2016.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time about my own reflections on the past, and what I think many other people can feel too. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
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