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 Oct 2016 Merrimae
the lost girl
running in the dark
away from the night
away from the silence
looking for the light
looking for your eyes

stars are crying for you
ashes of them rain
got lost in the sounds of my pain

my train's out of its rail
it's going down the hell
tomorrow or today
it won't ever change
I'm the lost one
you're already gone
some how, some way
some where in some day
you and I
we were in love
when you were already gone
when the one you love is gone all you can do is to get lost in your mind.
the more you think the worse it gets.
I'm just a skeleton.
Do I really have a soul?
Because the point of living
Is not love.
It is not living life to the fullest.
It is finding your purpose,
And your calling.
But I feel like love is where we end it.
All our dreams,
our hopes,
our passions.
We end it because we met our match.
But that can not get in the way of your passion,
your ambition,
your drive.
We are not just skeletons on this ****** earth.
We are the souls of the earth.
Filling the world with our lives,
Search further than love.
Make it a starting point to the real game.
The one where you can choose,
Passion or emptiness?
I cant think of any better way to relate my feelings... I feel like some older adults cant help but agree...
 Oct 2016 Merrimae
Aly
I want to tell you stories
of how I dream to be great
encourage me to reach them
with you
in each passing days.
I want to hear you giggle
at my lame jokes
laugh on how corny they were
declare that I'm better in somewhere else
and that I should quit it
but I will still going to tell you more.
I want to cuddle you at night
whisper sweet nothings
until you fall asleep
in my arms
hear you snore
watch you in the dim light
watch you stay safe by my side.
I want to wake up next to you
the first thing I'm going to see as I open my eyes
was your taunting huge brown eyes
twinkling brighter than the morning star
the first thing I could touch
would be your porcelain skin
to prove to me
that the last night was not a dream.
I want to love you.
But each time I close my eyes
I see my hair in the sheets
tangled with amber strands
and yours are *jet black.
 Oct 2016 Merrimae
Keith Wilson
Water  rushing  down  the  drains.
And  through  windswept  country  lanes.

Trees  brushing  water  away  with  their  leaves.
Birds  sheltering  under  the  eaves.

Pools  on  the  lawn  appear.
It,s  a  dreadful  night  I  fear.

Pitch  black  little  to  see.
A  new  day  may  set  us  free.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
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