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Here lies the contents of my heart:
In perfect pieces along the very edge of stitches,
There was once a time when nothing could keep us apart,
And in that time we were vessels that held the world's sweetest riches,
But now the taste of your name only leaves me ****.
The syllables roll off my tongue, leaving only bitter wishes,
So don't question how we ended up here; I don't know where to start.
Your scratched promise had more than its fair share of glitches.
You and I have yet to master the necessary art
Of arguing without leaving the other malicious,
And as a result we discover true feelings whenever we depart
Because our cross cultural fairy tales are exactly that--
Fictitious.
This is one of my favorite original poems, and I'm so very excited to share it with you. If you care to read more of my poems, check out my poetry blog https://delaajay.wordpress.com/. Make sure to let me know you dropped by.
 Nov 2016 Scarlett Fuentes
Dangle
Chaos were my thoughts
Yet you tried to fill it up
Sweet lullaby, Love.
Moments pass,
Days go by,

Time, it is too honest -
Arrogant, not shy.

It comes, and it goes,
It cares not, for your emotions,

It steals your dreams,
It throws them into
the deepest depths,
of the darkest, vastest oceans.

Time, it spares no pain,
It reminds you, constantly,
That it will soon take you...

It trys so hard
to make you anxious -
It will eventually break you!

It teases you
with the most pleasurable moments,
Those, that you will never forget...

It gives you special memories -
most precious,
and a few,
that you may live long enough
to regret.

Time, is an absolute blessing.
However, its inevitable end,
feels like a massive curse,

Time,
It ticks away faster
As you get older,
Making all of your anxieties
Feel horribly worse.

Time, it is impetuous,
And, unfortunately,
There a many souls
Who lack appreciation
For every blessed, precious,
Unstoppable second.

Sadly, they realise this,
Only when their final moments
Are about to come - when their last Breath is about to be taken;
When their soul
Has been beckoned.

Time,
It kisses you,
Then it runs,

It causes chaos,
Daily.
But, still,
With every second of it,
That we are blessed,
It makes us,
The lucky ones!

By Lady R.F ©2016
961

Wert Thou but ill—that I might show thee
How long a Day I could endure
Though thine attention stop not on me
Nor the least signal, Me assure—

Wert Thou but Stranger in ungracious country—
And Mine—the Door
Thou paused at, for a passing bounty—
No More—

Accused—wert Thou—and Myself—Tribunal—
Convicted—Sentenced—Ermine—not to Me
Half the Condition, thy Reverse—to follow—
Just to partake—the infamy—

The Tenant of the Narrow Cottage, wert Thou—
Permit to be
The Housewife in thy low attendance
Contenteth Me—

No Service hast Thou, I would not achieve it—
To die—or live—
The first—Sweet, proved I, ere I saw thee—
For Life—be Love—
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