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 Sep 2013 Nadrah
sweetear
Talk
 Sep 2013 Nadrah
sweetear
I'm not interested in small talk
I want to listen to your childhood memories
the day when your father taught you how to ride a bike
when your mother read you a fancy fairy tale before bed
when you were so happy because your parents complimented your drawings
eventhough they were bad
when you sat on your mom's lap in the evening of spring
as waiting for your dad to get home from work
when you blew a candle on your 8th birthday
I want to hear your voice
and see your crinkles on your beautiful eyes
as you laugh uncontrolably like a little kid.
 Sep 2013 Nadrah
Aleena Warren
A simple question,
four words, why do I write?
I write for me,
to escape from the world.
I write to express myself
in a way I wouldn’t be able to with my voice.
I write for others,
to entertain them,
put a smile on their face,
or to let them know they aren't alone.
I write to forget.
I write to remember.  
I write because I know the paper won’t judge me.
The pen will never disagree with me, even if I am wrong.
I write because there are no boundaries, no expectations.
I have the ability to create anything with just words on a paper.
I write to save my imagination, to expand it.
I write to better understand my surroundings,
to see the world in different ways.
I write to hate.
I write to love.
To cry.
To smile.
I write to communicate,
if no one will listen.
I write for various reasons.
But most of all,
I write because in second grade
my teacher told me I could be an amazing writer.
 Sep 2013 Nadrah
Daniel Kenneth
Here lies the fallen king
The token sober kid
Grew up alone in a full house
Surrounded by friends but always in doubt
That this world so dear held love for him too
The doubt grew too strong
And so, he flew
 Sep 2013 Nadrah
cursed
Dead Lover
 Sep 2013 Nadrah
cursed
My dead lover once told me
To pick the reds over the blues
For years I tried to comprehend
And on his third year death anniversary
A friend since child came to me with an envelope
A blue and a red
"This will determine your future"
He said as he slid the envelope across the table towards me
"Well, I like blue so I'll just pick blue."
My friend was shocked
Signalling me not to
And that is when I trust my dead lover
I chose the red over the blue.
That night I cried blood
Reading a letter by my dead lover
Whom cheated on me more than the years we have been together
He was ready to pop the question on our seventh year
Because he get a hell of a day by his dad
Over cheating on me
And a hell from his mom
Over making me wait
It really caught my attention that year
He has changed
Until he was dead.
Now I am more curious over the blue
And when it was handed to me on our suppose to be tenth year anniversary
I cried blood again
To know he never loved me the way I loved him
To know it was a deal with the friend who gave the envelopes
To know my friend was a cancer survivor
To know my friend gave me to him because he thinks he could not lived long
And look who died first.
No one knew why
No one expected it
But now I'm married to the person I never noticed.
A tribute to a person who is a follower of my writing blog since the start. Congratulations, and may your marriage is blessed!
 Aug 2013 Nadrah
SALaprade
Thank you for making my life worth living again,
Even if it was only temporary
Thank you for making my mornings fun to wake up to
With just a few simple words
Thank you for showing me that I am worthy of compliments
And how to accept them with grace
Thank you for filling my heart with happiness and hope
But NO thanks for letting it all slip away.

Sometimes I think about how hard and fast I fell for you
And it frightens me to say the least
I think of how silly it must have sounded to you when I told you
I loved you before I knew you
I feel like there's a fire in my heart when I recall how it felt
To be held and touched by you
I could so easily go to sleep in your arms
Because that's where I felt safe.
But not anymore, my love…Not anymore.
*I'll eventually get over it, I'm pretty sure.
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