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Sunlight playing on my tapping foot
Wishing this bus could ride forever
The images seen through glass, flash and pass
Manifest into destination
And my stomach lurches
Butterflies for the past and future
This poem is for a class I'm taking where we need to put our public out in the public and get feedback so any comments are appreciated! Thanks!
Today I stared at The Scream
And am proud to say,
I understand what it means.
Seconds,
Days,
Minutes,
Nights.
The Scream represents
Immortal life.

And who really wants to live
To be one hundred years old?
To see the world they know,
slowly go?

I've seen Death,
on multiple occasions...
He tells me it's okay
To feel this sort of pain.
Deep down it burns,
but it cools my skin.
Your words...
Unable to keep me in.

And who really wants to live
To be one hundred years old?
When there's nothing to do,
but grow cold?

Gently pour your tears on my eyes.
The feeling is great.
It reminds me of the sky,
Like your hair reminded me
of being naive.
These feelings are mine,
As you stab me in my side.

And who really wants to live
To be one hundred years old?
Memories still in mind;
What torment for every burning soul.
Are you struck with her figure and face?
    How lucky you happened to meet
With none of the gossiping race,
    Who dwell in this horrible street!
They of slanderous hints never tire;
    I love to approve and commend,
And the lady you so much admire,
    Is my very particular friend!

How charming she looks — her dark curls
    Really float with a natural air;
And the beads might be taken for pearls,
    That arc twined in that beautiful hair:
Then what tints her fair features o'erspread -
    That she uses white paint some pretend;
But, believe me, she only wears red
    She's my very particular friend!

Then her voice, how divine it appears
    While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;"
Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears,
    And declared that she sung out of tune;
For my part, I think that her lay
    Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend;
But people won't mind what I say —
    I'm her very particular friend!

Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme
    To posterity surely must reach;
(I wonder she finds so much time
    With four little sisters to teach!)
A critic in Blackwood, indeed.
    Abused the last poem she penned;
The article made my heart bleed —
    She's my very particular friend!

Her brother dispatched with a sword,
    His friend in a duel, last June;
And her cousin eloped from her lord,
    With a handsome and whiskered dragoon:
Her father with duns is beset,
    Yet continues to dash and to spend —
She's too good for so worthless a set —
    She's my very particular friend!

All her chance of a portion is lost,
    And I fear she'll be single for life;
Wise people will count up the cost
    Of a gay and extravagant wife:
But tis odious to marry for pelf,
    (Though the times are not likely to mend,)
She's a fortune besides in herself —
    She's my very particular friend!

That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert,
    It were useless and vain to deny;
She's a little too much of a flirt,
    And a slattern when no one is by:
From her servants she constantly parts,
    Before they have reached the year's end;
But her heart is the kindest of hearts —
    She's my very particular friend!

Oh! never have pencil or pen,
    A creature more exquisite traced;
That her style does not take with the men,
    Proves a sad want of judgment and taste;
And if to the sketch I give now,
    Some flattering touches I lend;
Do for partial affection allow —
    She's my very particular friend!
Fool me once,
Shame on you.
Fool me twice,
You ******* ****.
I won’t shame myself;
I’m too ****** to feel pathetic.
This isn’t baseball.
There won’t be a third strike.
The game’s already over.
It should’ve never started.
loves grip has never frightened me
but then again
I have never been so tied down.
And not until the unwritten laws of tradition
have been cast upon you
can you experience such emotions
And when the two intertwine, twisting, combining can you see
how that grip is burning
and how tightly it is slung around your forearms
tugging and tugging
and the refusal to loosen
or break, and then once, he lets go for a breath
you make decisions
and are hauled  from reality,
from tradition
hauled into the escapade
of someone else's game
and then you learn
The course you're in
never did run smooth
and you're indeed,
frightened.
He loved her and she loved him
His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she ******
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and Sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered  into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Or everlasting or whatever there was
Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His word were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assasin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows  pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall
Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined  sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
She owns the brightest smile
that could light the streets for miles
She has the bravery to tame the wildest beast
yet, she see's non of these

Once upon a time--not so long ago
she decided that luxury is what she would forgo
so her dreams would not fall,
Her creations could be describe with anything, but banal
What a hardy choice she made  
in a crooked world with no aide

She has the strength of ten men
like finest steel she would be hard to bend
like the toughest riddle i could never solve her
on these facts there is no err

It's rare that anyone would catch the impossible girl,
she appears only to those cut from the same burl
Impossible as it seems,
I will catch her--and not only in my dreams
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