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Longing for the cold embrace
The snowflake tears upon your face
So beckon winter, like a dream
Before my fall breaks at the seams.

I see them crisp and frail
Gasping, dying... on the trail
Harvest time, they won't catch me.
Please winter... see me free.

Your icy touch, frozen gaze,
I see her now, beyond the haze.
The sickle won't have my meat
Let me die by your frozen feet.
This goes out to anyone who's having a rough time. The poem is about not dying before you get what you want, even if life is hard.
Mighty bastions beg you stay strong
I have no desire to see you burn in fire
Stop the evil from doing us wrong

At times I feel the need to open up the gates
But clad in stone and clay I'll make my own fate
The sun is but a light bulb,
The grass a carpet to feel.

Mother's embrace a hold,
Father's call is the bubble's steel.

I get no satisfaction from the dark flowchart you call home.
Reality has been deemed insufficient to my dreams and hopes.

You are nothing but papers to sign and times to arrive.
However in the flowing rivers of my mind I find the divine.
Tonight's the night I take a chance,
A risk greater than the high school dance,
But dare I try, after this stanza
I'll stop firing my rhyming phaser,

I've always been one for lesser liberties,
Not unlike your favourite celebrities,
Such as the right to whistle my merry song,
On those warm summer days that drag out too lon-
No not that! Why can't I seem to break,
That longing for order, could my values be fake?

I'm a rebel, not a conformist of society,
I'm one for a cider not a hot cup of tea,
Notice that I'm getting better all the time,
Those lines only made up a half rhyme,

I'll force myself to ruin this pattern that I'm in,
Perhaps a subtle cuss will do: "Friggin'!",
That didn't seem to work I guess this is a sham,
Perhaps its inevitable that all poetry should rhyme...

Wait a second...
I honestly don't know what I was thinking.
He sees in you
What you always
Wanted to be seen as

Company

Its both awesome
And annoying

Get a Harry in your life
I actually like my new approach to poetry. Its more creative and less forced rhymes!!!
Ego
Ego
If I were free of ego
what would that make me?

Would I be pure?
Would I be at peace?
Would I be an inspiration?
Wouldn't I be my best self?

Yes... to be egoless.

The biggest ego trip of them all.
Sorry Harry if you read this. My next poem will have to be about you.
Today I got up late and proceeded to eat something I hate
My half assed meals, served by the devil, are poorly created
My stomach's crammed with crap luxuries and I'm fated
To **** moan and complain about how I get everything

Meanwhile in hell a child can't eat and is stuck in surgery
My other Nephew remains unnamed from my brother's inadequacy
Earlier this week I set in motion a plan,
To work my hours and find time to make flan,
On the weekend I'd make it my priority,
To sought out my administrative atrocity,

Two days, nay! A life time's worth,
Of time to finish this boorish work,
Of course boss, I have recreation still,
To coat the shed with eucalyptus fill,

No worries colleague It wouldn't harden,
My troubled schedule to tend your garden,
I will just polish my parents road,
With haste to lighten my cruel workload,

Deadlines are pushing me toward the abyss,
I've been sent to serve as a court's witness,
Out of time, out of mind,
I'm just fine, Last line.
There is a lesson to be learned here. Do you know what it is?
She'll touch gently with her words
And nurture all your sick fantasies.
She offers you bait and claims
to understand what's on your mind.

It seems this friend is unconditional.
But her time is spent on us for reasons cold.
She senses the pain on how we were alone.
In the end she wove an ironclad web.

And trapped we scream to this widow
Begging for her spindled embrace.
In the end we couldn't see that her kindness,
Wrought from desperation,
Was the cast that hooked our lonely hearts.

Perhaps I'm a coward or a shallow,
But let me be hung out to darken and twist.
Then spend my golden thread of time,
With someone I did not love.
Maybe I'm just an idiot but ***** being with someone just because you feel you have no other choice. (this goes for men and women both)
I sense them plotting heinous crimes from their abode,
We were too late to find the vermin down below,
How can you stay sharp with our world falling apart?
For all my powers I did not foresee this plight,
Is it the end? Our death at the hands of gloating narks,
Today I stand your friend, its never too late to fight.

Now charge
Time to fight my friends.
Sure
I don't care what you say this IS poetry.
Its slow... SNAP! Something cruel approaches.
This undulating creature that makes her retch,
Its coming closer, beneath its skin: worms and roaches,
Saliva like tar, claws splintered and ready to etch
Your name on blistered floors in gruesome blood,
He'll leave you empty, insides pressed in mud.

Hear it now... that twisted groan.
These crooked corridors are not home.

— The End —