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le flores Mar 2013
Bloods colored the land below the wind.
The rainfalls are the tears from the loved ones left behind.
The wind blows, the grass bends to respect the heroes.
The dead are never the dead to us until we have forgotten them.
God blesses the heroes and may you rest in peace.
This poem is dedicated to the armies and polices that sacrificed their lives to protect others.
le flores Jan 2013
The stingy smell of milk filled the bedroom's air.  
T-shirts, ***** clothes flooded the floor.
The bed was messy, the books scattered all around the bed,
the emotions drained out in every inch of the room.
There was something familiar,
something hadn't changed for years. It was the girl's swollen eyes.
Bleary eyed,
shivers run down the spine,
scatterbrained,
isolated in the corner of the room,
the constant silence shattered the noisy sound came from the nearest fireworks,
the last letter wrote, sealed with a final kiss and the world now has come to an end.
It's the suicide note. Between life and death.
le flores Dec 2012
Lost in a world of the author's making,
Coffee and tea
Are the good company since twenty

Laying on the rotten floorboards
With fictions clutched to chest
Teary eyes,
Sober lips,
Storms and rainy night are singing

Past 12,
And you realized,
The sound of the piano ;
The pauses between the notes
That's where your heart resides.

— The End —