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 Dec 2012 Roberta Day
sol
How could I ever
Fully describe anything
In a short haiku?
 Nov 2012 Roberta Day
Sara
Your smile weeps softly lit whispers
and your fingers entangle through my hair,
slowly blistering my scalp with false memories
of someone who
used to hold me
 Nov 2012 Roberta Day
Klaus
Grow a pair;
Lets punctuate
Not fluctuate

It's not in the release I hesitate

but in the frisky, frazzled farewells
What are the odds that we are even?
Won't you receive that it's love I believe in?
What are the chances the glances were real?
Knit this thread of emotion that I feel
Knit it and pin it on your chest
I need you and miss you and telling you does not make it less.

Maybe I meant it when I said I love
Maybe I saw it when you got lost in my eyes
Maybe the pair was to be when we were intertwined
Maybe meaning is you and me defined

What are the chances that I am a mess?
What are the odds that you are my best?
This love has been a test
What are the odds that you love me too?
What are the odds that life is you and me?
If I was to be, would you see through me?
If we had our time would we last?
If the clock ran would we stop and dance?
What if we gave love a chance?

Maybe I was not good enough
Maybe your flaws were few
Maybe my heart was sweet
Maybe I would have shown you places new
Maybe together we would grow
Maybe we would find roses that have no thorns
Maybe I would not be leaning against walls
Maybe I would not be cuddling my legs
watching a crazy heart break.

Maybe on the morrow of no sorrow we would not borrow from the place where tears follow
Maybe we would give and not hesitate
Maybe we would take it slow and deny haste
Maybe on the morrow we would both kiss fate
Maybe our time is yet to come,
maybe it is all over and done. Maybe...
 Nov 2012 Roberta Day
Jay Forrest
Smiles turn into frowns
Bracelets turn into blades
Soda turns into *****
Love turns into hate
Laughter becomes tear drops
Boys become toys

Baseball is then all about the bases
Running past numerous faces

Friends become enemies
What was once a rose, now nothing but thorns
From energetic to tired and worn
Sponge Bob to *** tapes and ****
I love you
I want you gone
We go from 12 to 20
Now he's far more than a buddie
Hmmm, smells like teen spirit
I apologize for the obvious
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