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There is still time
To have breakfast in bed
after we woke up
There is time to talk
Slowly
Carefully
Picking words which don’t hurt
We can still hold hands
Gaze into each other’s eyes
Be kind
Be nice
We still have time to laugh
Watch each other smiles
And be amazed
Everyday

It is not too late
Why does our soul crave someone else when we're so complete in ourselves.
The wind whispered to the trees
Who sent messages in fallen leaves

The bluebell rang out the alarm
And the rabbits burrowed out of harm

The birds carried the message on a wing
Then the forest fell asleep until the spring
Thank you for bringing back to life a 2019 poem.
I don't like the middle
It feels like an ocean
Swimming it everyday
I want to be close to the shore
Where you are
Where I can at least see you
Hear you
The middle feels almost like
Drowning
You are too far
To help me get thru
Or throw me a lifeline
Reassure me
So
I can at least float
To your shore
I hate the middle of the week. This is my best description of how it feels.
look into my eyes
and you'll see how silently
I'm screaming right now
They say that LOVE
is a four letter word,
The feeling of
LONGING and ATTRACTION,
A deep feeling of
FONDNESS and TENDERNESS and
of a Deep, Deep
LOVE CONNECTION!!!
LOVE can be defined in so many ways,
It doesn't always have to be about AFFECTION,
There is a FRIENDSHIP and
a FAMILY TYPE OF LOVE!!!
LOVE could also be
seen as PROTECTION!!!


B.R.
Date: 4/17/2024
I am that lonely star who tried to shine after seeing you.
Cat
I want to live for random conversations,
With coffee at pointless locations,
Talk endlessly like a curious cat,
To be satisfied, and brought back to life.

I hope for unknown tomorrows,
Simply living and breathing slow,
To close my eyes and feel the breeze,
To have my mind be in absolute peace.
i want to talk about you
to everyone i know
i want to shut my mouth
and keep you to myself
my heart flares up
explodes with thoughts of you
and i can't catch the words
and i can't catch my breath
Pain is inevitable,
Suffering is optional.
The crossroads of success,
Is always constructional.

If we could become tress,
Solid and stoic, deep rooted
In Mother Earth's flesh;
We could stand firm
Through the tempest, unswayed.

But we are only humans.
Covered in darkness.
Hiding behind our fears,
Timidly withdrawing from
The ominous tempest.

So, embrace the fury,
The daunting gales that
Once were scary.
After all, you can't
Stop the waves,
But you can learn to surf.

And even if you sank,
Deeper into the void,
At least you'll drown
Knowing there was
Beauty In The Struggle.
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