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I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be
Probably one of my best works. I'm pretty proud of it. ^_^
It never ends

and we could never be friends

we know that ship has sailed

but our connection never prevailed

and i can’t use these eyes

to give anyone else a glance

cause you have me in this trance

all i see are fireworks and i just want to dance

—dance on all the rooftops, dance on all the streets

take me to a mountain, i wanna see the tops of the trees

you’ve got me higher in the sky than i have ever been before

and you can hide away but my hope is a light to bright i can’t hide anymore.

—let this begin.

let s take it in,

don’t mess with fate, don’t derail destiny you can’t rewrite what’s already been put down in ink

this wasn’t just a sketch, i know god put us to the test, but we know just what he intends on happening.

—I would step back from everything i’ve been chasing all my life,

i would make a different turn i don’t care if it’s wrong or right

if i had just some sparkle of hope that you’d be with me by my side,

cause nothing seems scary, nothing intimidates me when you’re here, but you are the king of disappearing.

-i can’t give up, you’re in my blood, you’re in my heart and soul.

I can’t give up, you’re in my blood, i have no self control.
Americans love human rights
The more they scream
The bigger the crime
A marketing stratagem
The confidence man devised
Unable to touch
'you will be Tailored a suit
If you say what you think
Off to jail you go
The *** will crack
In a violent act
Delicate china flower
The human rite
My room

                                              is a work of art

on the unvacuumed           canvas

lies heaps

of U.C.S's

(unidentified clusters of                ****)

heaps                                   ­           that are only destroyed

during nights             ...                                 ...                                     .. .    .  .

that are fueled with       anxiety

or

just pu re
                    r
                   
                                      estles snes s  .

These imperfect     shapes

scattered

in comforting patterns

my          compiled life

in pieces   .

But I'm st ill restless.

The artist

is

never truly satisfied with

her

work

the mes s of          my                     life

tossed comfor tably to the ground

until i am provoked by                       ...                              ...               .. .

...

Each Article

I nd i v i dually held

Set    in   place

Stumb

                                               ling upon

Lost object  s       ... .             .

forgotten   fabrics that

held you unquestionably.

a nostaliga

art

revealing things

you were probably already looking for .
A hand reaches for the glass.
Warm fingers meet cold crystal,
trying to wipe away the imperfections.
As unforgiving as ever,
the flaws remain.
Mirrors are a painful thing, are they not?
 Oct 2014 Kaitlyn Marie
Hannah
Do you think of me
as I think of you?
like an anchor in my mind
like my northern star
every pathway leads to you
and the nighttime
never seemed so beautiful
-h.w.
Her eyes,
filled with sorrow and lies.
Her heart,
slowly falling apart.
Her smile,
its been fake for a while.
Her wrists,
carved with perfect slits.
She's depressed and alone,
her voice is a mere drone.

No one there to listen to her,
but, then again, who would even care?
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