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Mar 2017 · 821
Punky
Maranda Thomas Mar 2017
Always there she is,
Like the color of an evergreen tree.
Always uplifting she will be
When I am down.

Always the best advice she can muster
When she has not a clue herself.
Always I will be her priority
Even if she has ten other things on her plate.

Her long yellow hair, and bright blue eyes.
Her tomboy looks and unproportional nose.

She lives so far away, yet she is still right beside me.
Late night phone calls hours long,
Consisting of boy drama and family problems
And of remembering summer nights of laughter.

We don’t talk nor see each other everyday,
But she is my best friend and I am hers
And I will never take her for granted
Because she has me and I got her.
Mar 2017 · 794
Lost Dreams
Maranda Thomas Mar 2017
I’m tired of thinking of you all the time,
It’s stupid that I can’t keep you off my mind.
I lay awake at night thinking of pretend kisses
And dreaming one day of being your Mrs.

It’s stupid I know,
But my thoughts are out of control.
I bet you don’t even think of me,
Not for a millisecond it seems to be.

Of course, I don’t know this for sure,
But if you did, I’d like to think you’d send and “Okay sure!”
You didn’t even reply to the last text I sent you,
I bet you didn’t even read my pathetic plea.

Now I waste my nights thinking of lost dreams
All because you made be believe we could be.
Last stanza is definitely my favorite.
Mar 2017 · 561
Pretend Games
Maranda Thomas Mar 2017
Small children in the
Yard, laughing and running by
With rosy red cheeks and
Bright blue eyes, playing pretend
Games of bad guys and good guys.
Mar 2017 · 383
Delicate Warrior
Maranda Thomas Mar 2017
She is a delicate warrior.
At first, she is soft and warm.
She loves with everything in her heart,
And cares with a most tender touch.

But she is also a fighter.
She can become hard like stone,
And her heart can turn into ice
Because she has been hurt so much.

Yes she is a fighter.
Her love burns like an icy inferno.
And though she is beautifully broken,
She will captivate you with her clutch.

— The End —