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It is the beginning of the end,
the end of the beginning.
My time here is fading fast,
Yet so much remains
For building bridges,
Burning others,
Moving in and moving out,
Changing almost as much as the weather.

The time has come to find myself,
Who really lives inside this hardened shell
Underneath all of the memories,
The heap of heartaches
That consume my true happiness,
Which can only come with change.
Standing, staring
watching helplessly
as you turn away
you're leaving me

Joyful times,
soul full tides
happy memories
slowly  drift away
like leaves in the stream

Silent nights
wordless fights
it all seems to me
pain filled feelings
start to weaken me

I think of where
we have been
and what cannot be
there's no more to be said
our time is at an end

maybe we
can finally see
just what it means
slowly sinking in the mire
misreading your desire

Fooling my self
like only I can
almost believing
I could be your man
that you would want
the same thing too
clearly again
I had been duped

If you're
wearing your heart
upon your sleeve
there are those who
will deceive
tear down your walls
take from you
everything you thought
you knew

so move along
don't look back
the road ahead is
long and black
finding light along the way
holding on till night is day.
When you feel the wind
of summer air
Always remember
Out there somewhere
Someone is willing to
Hold you.
And we rang along those river banks
against the light cast as shadows,
fleeting past mournful dark windows-
timid in the evening's morning.

And you whispered into my eyes
the words you wanted me to see,
and showed them to idle ears
who waited for something else appear.
coffeeshoppoems.com
timknightpoetry >> Facebook
Ingénue, Ingénue
mellifluous intonation;
within my ear
intangible embrocation!

Emollient to my inure
lithe and lilt affections-
A panacea, a talisman
fetching provocation.

Ingénue, Ingénue
Why must you fall
into such fugacious
dalliances?

Becoming and comely
are you
The cynosure of men
dissembling by demure

Ingénue, Ingénue
how easily I imbue
sempiternal scintilla
into naive little you

Lo, during my brooding-
arrive in halcyon gambol,
Dulcet or Saccharine
Is it me or you?

Ingénue, oh Ingénue
an epiphany, so true
a furtive labyrinthine
past the offing of you

None so opulent
cast more than penumbra.
T'would simply be Pyrrhic
to go on, continue.
Someone once told me my vocabulary was lacking... so I started writing poems to remember words.
Ingénue - a naive young woman
mellifluous - Sweet sounding
intonation - inflection
intangible - unable to be touched or grasped
emborcation - to apply a lotion
emollient - a softening agent
inure - to become jaded
lithe - slender and flexible
lilt - move musically or lively
panacea - solution to all problems
talisman - a good luck charm
fetching - pretty
fugacious - fleeting
dalliances - short love affair
cynosure - focus of admiration
dissembling - deceive
demure - shy and reserved
imbue - instill, infuse
sempiternal - eternal
scintilla - a small spark
brooding - thinking alone
halcyon - happy, care-free
gambol - to skip or leap about joyfully
dulcet - sweet or sugary
saccharine - overly or sickishly sweet
epiphany - sudden realization
furtive - sneaky
offing - area of ocean between horizon and offshore
opulent - lush, luxurious
penumbra - half-shadow
Pyrrhic - victory but with heavy losses
Dream of a highway man can't be burned
Nor it can be torn
It only floats in the air
Neither he can catch it.
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