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We look for the glimmer of hope
Some are looking for it still
They find it very hard to cope
Stripped of their own will

We sometimes face ourselves
Rising up, only to fall
Life is like keeping empty shelves
Talking to the shadows on the wall

Life really makes no sense
We try to figure it all out
Paying for it at our own expense
Never heard when we shout

Loneliness can be a curse
When no one heeds our call
Never getting better, only worse
Left talking to the shadows on the wall
copyright Chris Smith 2010
Countless pages are silently turned in unread books
With quiet secrets passed through the ages
Mysteriously holding inside, wisdom passed down
Deep thoughts of the sages

Sensational scenes of marvelously profound dreams
Lie patiently there waiting upon the fading ink
The rich abundant thoughts of great men of worth
With an innate drive to uniquely think

A gentle breeze of knowledge blows across one’s face
Softly calling out a sweep of welcoming hail
Tempting minds with a voracious need to learn
To come and read their untold tales

Take a moment out in your life’s seeking journey
To rest your eyes upon these unread lines
Read and treasure the wisdom offered in measure
Satisfy the hunger you hold in your mind

If you find your mind is hungry and seeking appeasement
Driven deeply, by a powerful need to learn
Take a taste of the great wisdom left there in earnest
Satisfaction waits, in those pages you turn
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Rest In Peace Hello Poetry.

You used to be so young and fresh...

Now you're that crackhead ***** I see standing in front of the liquor store begging for change.

I remember when you were alluring and attractive and people used to enjoy your company...

Now we all back away from you like the loud, drunk, obnoxious lady at the holiday work party. You know what I mean, there's always one. You turned into that annoying ***** and i hate you for it.

Lastly...I remember all the nice things people used to say about you. Those things were true.

Now the only truth is that you ****, and are stubborn, and wont listen to reason. Just like my Ex....who ironically...I wish was R.I.P.

Sigh.
Shrug.
Insert appendage here()
Twilight whispers
Dreaming fingertips
In the candle's soft glow
Sweet air, melody and harmony
Painting voices in your eyes.

Shadow dancing
With the perfect reflection,
My clear vision
You shimmer;
Fading back to blind.

Too many quiet times
Between cacophonies of silence
The hysteria of nothing
What to do
Unmentioned glances.

Gallantly standing against
Agony to be waiting
Wings of desires,
What could be
Only an apparition's dream.

What, so...
Black and white
Quietly in and out of
Softly focus...
© JBM February 28, 2000
Whimsy

F J McCarthy on Jan 14, 2000


I can’t , I won”t.

I shan’t, I don’t.

I might, tonight.

Is it right, not quite.

How bout later, in the elevator.

I could  mate her, on the escalator.

Should I Try, she might cry.

Then I’d die. Too **** shy.

I guess I should quit. Before I forget.

\Seems a solid bet, Oh to hell with it.
Stare into the fires flame,
against your mind it will wane and wax.
Watch the tendrils of smoke rise,
the lines between light and dark relax.

The glow reaches out just so far,
then sweet darkness reclaims her control.
It is there at that juncture,
where a mind can lose its self control.

One must not tarry there long,
at that gauzy intersection.
For that is where time and space,
bend and twist your eyes perception.

Shadows play along the walls,
blending to be an evil twin.
Remnants that were once familiar.
Even your silhouette will join in.

Shades prance with great joy,
keeping up with the flickering beat.
Your brain will scream "It's not true!".
Insanity is now complete.
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