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Granny left me
more money
than you be-
cause she loved
me a lot, that
much is true

Mama left me
big money, 300
million more than
she left you, be-
cause she loved
me like crazy, we
both know that
it's true
I saw a baby at Walmart in the baby section in a baby stroller laughing and carrying on like babies do so I tell the mother and she's like "So what?" and I'm like "I was just sayin'" and she's like "I bet you can't even have a baby!" and I'm like "Here's my cell number" and she's like "I don't wanna call you" and I'm like "That's my prison cell number. I just escaped!"
He was a boy
With ginger curls
And a smile to his name

His eyes twinkled with mirth
At everything I say

With music as a bond
We share ourselves

Even if only for a moment
He was able to bring out
The love of music
From inside my shell
There. I wrote something about him.
You lead me on this road
And what lies ahead
I really don't know
Hope can be a beautiful thing
Like a lamp post flickering in the night
But still you have painted my eyes
With the view of the most colorful sunrise
And you let me breathe with lilac scented dreams
Ok
I keep portraying myself like I’m really actually ok and I’m getting over everything
But once I’m alone I realize I’m not ok and I keep telling myself I am but when no one is around I get to thinking and I’m not ok and I wish I could express how I feel to you and I know I can’t and it just
Hurts
I'm tired.
Tired of everything.
I just want to sleep,
And never wake up again.

No, I'm not lazy,
I'm not running away from life.
I'm just tired of the world and myself,
And too tired to change anything.
Everything you want to have,
Everything you want to be,
Lies across the bridge you see.

It's burning, it's freezing,
It's hard, there's suffering.

But until your legs are cut,
And your heart is out,
You'll keep on walking..

As everything you want to have,
Everything you want to be,
Lies across the bridge you see.
You and I
have a story
behind closed doors,
sneaking at night,
stealing kisses,
secretly holding hands.

But you and I
both know
this story
shall never be told
not even to a single soul.
Being a poet
is both a pain and a privilege.

All you do is
bleed your emotions
on a thousand pages
while people sing your praises
for ages.
Only a poet will understand.
The vines were jeweled by the raindrops,
In a blooming green field; danced the crops.
I was gazing at the sorcering sight,
The rain teeming the green with its might.
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