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 Apr 2016 jordan
Àŧùl
Not only like a real guardian,
But more dedicated than a real father,
A dutiful lover is always,
Thinking of new ways,
Happier can be his lover.

I thought as one for her too, but,
As she was sick of my mature advice,
She ditched me for someone else,
In my eyes tears swell but fail to fall.

Yes, I have moved on.
My HP Poem #1058
©Atul Kaushal
 Apr 2016 jordan
Àŧùl
Caution
 Apr 2016 jordan
Àŧùl
Don't make the mistake,
Of ditching a lover who's so caring,
Almost your parent-like.
My HP Poem #1059
©Atul Kaushal
 Apr 2016 jordan
Unnoticed Notes
I found this in my notebook from a while ago and thought id post it.


Caution
"If you reading this your probably in peices over all my broken words. Or maybe you just think im over dramatic. I used to tell myself that all the time just to ease the pain from the fact that this is how some humans are stuck living. So im sorry if you can relate to even part of my story."
"Why create something only to hate it?" they asked.
"Because it draws some of the hate away from myself."
Idk. Worse day ive had in a long time so I decided to look through some of my old note books. I have a feeling this wont end tomorrow either..
 Apr 2016 jordan
Declan Quinn
Pulled apart by thought, not horses.
Imagined enemies have become my saviours.
Truth peddlers work for free, liars require restitution.
Free thought is seldom without its price.
I am not always right, even when I am.
Is this wisdom or a pretty collection of words?
 Apr 2016 jordan
Maddii Lloyd
for my birthday this year..
when I blow out my candles..
im going to wish to be dead..
and they will all clap..
without knowing..
 Apr 2016 jordan
Bailey
Life?
 Apr 2016 jordan
Bailey
Society has people thinking they must,
people find it hard to trust,
teens build sadness until they combust,
and "perfect" is just a few flaws away...
A world so puzzling with nowhere to fit,
narrow minds thinking this is it,
cold souls and fire we spit,
and we find cons in all of our days.
Keeping one eye on the clock,
no patterns yet we hate to be shocked,
to subtle addictions we flock,
and we wonder why we're in dismay...
Adjusting for a fulfilling life,
getting ****** and kissing knives,
but we're always so surprised,
when we come to our leaving day.
Blossoms are the
Hopes and dreams
Attached to the thorny
Stems of life
We all have to climb
To smell the roses
 Apr 2016 jordan
ThePoet
Who are we to say
that a love is not to be?
That a love does not belong
and can never be set free?

Who are we to think
that a kind is not our people?
That a kind is far beneath us
and will never be as equal?

Who are we to feel
that a face can look unusual?
That a face must be a canvas
and be painted to be beautiful?

Who are we to judge?
To say love is prohibited?
To think below of others?  
To feel minds can be limited?

©
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