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Hello.
Salut.

Goodbye.
Au revoir.

No matter the language
They are both the same.

Hello is my heart
Waking
And goodbye is it
Breaking.
I could never fall in love with a writer,
Because I'd treat life like a game.

I write
And you write
And we'll see who writes better.

I could never fall in love with a writer,
Because it would make the hard times harder.

I cry
And you sigh,
Let's pray life doesn't leave us bitter.

I could never fall in love with a writer,
Because we'd both be metaphor-fighters.

I'll swing a fist,
You'll block, take the hit,
And we'll tumble down the stairs of regret.

I could never fall in love with a writer,
Because we would be wonderfully mad.

I'll buy the paint,
You buy the brushes,
Let's paint the town red.

I could never fall in love with a writer,
Because he would remind me of me.

I could never fall in love
With anyone so vain
And so impatient
And so selfish
And so conceited
To claim they could never
Fall in love with a writer.
"Why are the poet's eyes always sad?"
A little girl asked me once.
She saw me furrow my brow,
And continued with her question.
"You see,
No matter how big you smile,
Or how hard you laugh,
There's always something there.
It's like you've found
The Great Sadness,
And you have to bear it all alone."

I nodded my head,
Fingers on my chin.

Why is it that the poet's eyes are
Always sad?

I'll answer your question
Like I did hers.

To be a poet,
You have to feel every emotion.

You have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And survive,
And you have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And die.

Poets have to know what it's like
To hear a baby cry for the first time,
And what it's like
To hear a mother sob,
Because her baby came quiet
And left without a fight.

We feel every
Great Happiness
And we find every
Great Sadness.

Why are poet's eyes always sad?

It's because the poet
Is always sad.

Once you find
The Great Sadness,
You can never rid yourself of it.

But if you look closely
In a poet's eyes,
You can always see
Happiness
And you can always see
Joy.

Because a poet
Has to feel every emotion,
He feels them all at once
And they can't be hidden.

In every poets' eyes,
You see happiness,
And you see sadness.
You see joy,
And you see pain.
You see love,
And you see loss.

Why are the poet's eyes always sad?

I think it is better to ask,
Why are the poet's eyes always smiling?
I hope they find me
Surrounded by poems that
Are yet unfinished.
I got flowers today. It wasn't my birthday or any special day. We had our first argument last night, and he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me. I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said because  I got flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't our anniversary or any other special day. Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me. It seemed like a nightmare. I couldn't believe it was real. I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over. I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today, it wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day. Last night, he beat me up again. It was much worse than all the other times. If I leave him, what will I do? How will I take care of the kids?  What about money? I'm afraid of him and scared to leave. But I know he must be sorry, because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today. Today was a very special day. Today was the day of my funeral. Last night, he finally killed me. He beat me to death. If only I gathered enough courage and strength to leave him. I would not have gotten flowers today.
SAD
I once knew a boy, who fell in love with a girl,
Who smiled the thought of her name.
I once knew a girl, who fell in love with a boy,
Who felt the very same.

But it became a struggle, and timing was wrong,
And love decide they didn't belong.
Oh my, what a terrible fate!
To bid goodbye and walk away.

After many years they meet again
He knows their love is worth the climb,
But the poor little girl is afraid of heights,
And leave the boy hanging behind.
 Feb 2015 Nirali Shah
ryn
People cheat,
people lie

To get ahead
or
just to get by.

They do it out of deemed necessity
or
have made it a successful habit.

Some would feel bad,
but
some wouldn't lose sleep over it.

Some lie to protect...
Some lie to infect...

With little remorse
or
full blown guilt.

Either way
risking
all they've built.

A lie is an accessory
that most tend to abuse.
A convenient mask
for the ugly truth
that most would misuse.

Lies are...
The bane of relationships
Destroyer of trust...
Conveyed by irresponsible lips.

So have I ever lied?
Have I ever desecrated
honesty's pride?
Have I ever wielded it
to save others from harm?
Have I ever employed it
to boost my charm?

No I haven't,
now that's a lie...
Spouted that so easily,
I didn't even need to try...

Honestly,
YES I HAVE.
I am no exception...

I am no saint,
I'm only human
...
with an ill sense of direction.



I have lied...
How about you?

Search deep inside...
*You know you have too...
 Feb 2015 Nirali Shah
Ben Jones
Finding something on the road
And serving it for dinner
Buying dresses far too small
And thinking you look thinner
Solar powered submarines
Broken ribs or ruptured spleens
Driving cars and drinking beers
Lightbulb licking, bad ideas

Knowing where you shouldn't be
And being there despite
Going out in thunderstorms
To fly your iron kite
Sharing needles with a shark
Going to Mansfield after dark
Setting fire to someone's ears
Telemarketing, bad ideas

Not deploying gaffer-tape
When doing D.I.Y.
Believing the implausible
While branding truth a lie
Replying to Nigerian Princes
**** bleach and ******* rinses
Tabloid papers touting fears
Voting UKIP, bad ideas

Impersonating ******
Before nineteen forty-five
Catching a train on Sunday
And assuming you'll arrive
Turning lights on with your nose
Eating food that moves or glows
Listening to Britney Spears
Marmite Pringles, bad ideas

**
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