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 Feb 2014 Sean
Winona Marek
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Was this the right choice?
Seeing warnings on twitter
Thinking they're all quitters
Thinking you're better
But in reality, you're just as equal as them.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Seeing your friends play, you start multiplying
Not even touching a pipe and dying
You're on the floor, you're crying
Pressing start over and over again and trying
Knowing your high score is low and start lying
because you know you ****.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Questions going through your mind
"Why did I die?"
"Did I really touch a pipe?"
"Why do iPhone users only have day while Android have both day and night?"
"Why is it slower on other phones?"
"How do you get past 20?"
"Why do I keep dying?"
"Why do Android users have other colors?"
But the question you should be asking is...
"Am I going mad?"

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Now, the resolution.
Stop the addiction.
Press that "x"
You know its for the greater good.
I know YOU feel the ANGER whenever you die.
You don't wanna risk throwing your phone for that.
Take my advice. DO IT.
Before it ruins your life.

But as the day passes...
You can't.
You can't.
You can't.

Its too late.
Flappy Bird is now part of life.
Even though the anger
The anger that feels like your chest being stabbed by a knife
Hurts you so much
Deep inside you get a little happy...
Knowing somewhere in the world someone trying the same game
Got less than you.
Less than 3, 2, or 1.
And because of this you want to beat more people who **** more than you.

And this should be an achievement
You, state your name, got YOUR own high score.
YOU did it
YOU made it to one pipe or even more.
And if you didn't
Well ***** for you

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird
First poem!! I just had to express myself because I find it unfair for iPhone users. Im sorry, im just so emotional and my high score is only 20 :'(
 Oct 2013 Sean
Rabia al Basri
In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?
 Oct 2013 Sean
The Whisper
Who are you?

My heart longs to know.
For your face is a mystery,
Along with your existence.

Do you know?

That I'm here and waiting for you.
And that these empty hands,
Long and hope to hold yours.

My heart will be yours.

Before we even know.
For if destiny is real,
Then our fates will entwine.

Are you afraid?

That our paths will never cross?
Sleep well then, my dear.
For this is something we share.

Alone, we are not.

Even though we both are.
Our desires are shared,
Where ever you are.

Do you hear me?

My muse of mystery.
My one true love.
**If you even exist.
One of my greatest fears is being unlucky in love, which I honestly believe that I am. I wrote this poem to calm my fears and to keep alive the one thing that I almost forgot how to do. Hope.
 Oct 2013 Sean
Isabel Sykes
Step into my life
And shut the door behind you
Cross the threshold with intriguing confidence
I dare you
Stride into my sorry heart
With a playful smile upon your lips
And win me over with whit and charm
I know you can
Run a hand through your hair
When you talk to me
Because you're secretly a little nervous
And I love that
Tell me interesting things
Laugh and make me laugh too
And keep your arms around me
Just turn the handle and walk
Through that door
Or even just knock on the window
It's lonely in here
 Oct 2013 Sean
 Oct 2013 Sean
mom is knocking furiously on my door
but i can't face her anymore.

on my wrist there is a door
that opens a centi no more

and i'm slowly walking to this door
that would take me to hell and more

and when i'm through with this door
none will see me anymore

tortures i'm facing is the key to this door (wrist)
everyday it would turn and turn till it can't no more

and when it unlocks this precious door
the ones coming through it more and more

will drip.
and drip.

i'm sorry...
but i still love you
 Oct 2013 Sean
a few months ago,
you asked me: "What is love?"
As you can see,
it had taken me a long time to understand the question myself,
but I think I've finally come up with an answer.
the English language
has only one word to describe something that has limitless interpretations.
In Greek,
there are three words for the three basic types of love.
This type of love
is when you find yourself doodling their name
on the inside of your history textbook,
dotting the I's with hearts
as if you are 13 again and you were just asked on your first date.
You chose that textbook
because it will be the only place no one would ever think to look.
You think about everything you would be far too shy to say or act in person,
making out in the back of a movie theatre
not caring who would walk past,
sneaking off away from your friends just to have two measly moments of what you both call "peace."
Most often,
this type of love is encased in "I love you"
only to obtain a certain goal.
a picture,
or even just one more night
of having them in your arms.
Eros is not authentic,
it is emphemeral.
Brotherly Love.
The friend you would drop anything for in a heartbeat to make sure of their wellbeing,
but also the neighbor you see from time to time watering their garden.
They ask you
to tend to their garden while they are away,
and you do it
even though you've never spoken more than a paragraph to the man
because it is what you believe is right.
This type of love is the devotion of time and energy without any promise of compensation in return,
purely out of the good of heart.
Phileo lasts as long as the people do.
The final type of love
is Agape;
unconditional love.
In religion,
we are guided
or pushed
towards showing this type of love towards the diety.
Yet, very rarely
it is shown towards a human being.
Unconditional love
is the ability to say so much with only uttering a single word.
I have experienced this love,
it is great pain
and great sadness
but the feelings of pain will never leave my lips
in case they are transferred to the person i wish to have the least pain.
This kind of love
is when it is not only enough that you think about them every waking moment but every slumber-filled one as well. You have hung up your needs at the front door along with the key to your heart and devoted yourself entirely to them,
even if they don't reciprocate.
They have been adopted by your body and taken the form of a vital *****.
If you do not
pay absolute attention
to them at all times
you will run into many problems.
You need to keep them running smoothly in order to stay alive and healthy,
because without them you are nothing.
You are a sorry sack of bones with a beating heart with no purpose.
Unconditional love is taking all the lessons you have ever learned
all the rights and wrongs you have finally learned the difference between and throwing them out the window.
It is the thin line between sanity and insanity,
heaven and hell,
and safety and danger.
You walk the rope
from building to building
without the promise of a net.
Unconditional love
is authentic,
but not emphemeral.
((Love *****, don't do it.))
 Oct 2013 Sean
Born of Gold
How is life on lsd?
Well come on this trip with me.
Drugs are bad kids, they open your mind.
They allow you to reason, and see through the lies,
Losing reality, achieving duality,
The effects might be harsh, cause abnormalities.
Seeing your world and life differently,
Flowing through your brain so quick so swiftly.
When your eyes dilate, you no longer procrastinate
You get to pick between reality and your inner state.
Seeing that the small things are what matter,
Satisfying our thirst, for knowledge over matter.
Because on drugs you might enjoy walking,
You might enjoy smelling the grass or even talking
Expressing your mind, reasoning a thought,
And not being a cynics narcissist while you internally rot.
The experience on it impairs your mind,
And may leave you always behind
Behind with love, adventure, and discovery
Instead of hate, restrictions and agony.
But drugs are bad kids don’t take my advice,
the commoner lowlifes like us will someday pay the price.
The price of thinking differently, and enjoying life,
Walk this amazing world, with no need for strife.
Drugs impair your mind kids they do,
but what happens during them only chances what’s inside of you…
 Oct 2013 Sean
Lacus Crystalthorn
So I went back in time.
And there you were,
near the porch
waiting for me.

A hand of yours apprehensive
under your chin.

Your heart was bruised, ****** and broken
before my arrival.
You stood up, I half-expected you to run
but the void in your chest seems to be keeping you
at bay.

And the pieces strewn round your feet
glittered in the heat of that Thursday afternoon.

From my pocket I withdrew
a scotch tape I have been carrying since the last time.
And on my knees
I picked up the pieces of your heart

and un-broke them, one by one
like we never left each other at all.
Then we entered the house
and we were happy.

We were so happy.

And days rolled back,
and we went out for the first time
like a romantic date, but not exactly.
I was shy.

And then, one day,
I woke up and I don't know you.
And you woke up and you don't know me.
And we have never met.

Not at all.

So if our story were written backward,
certainly, this is what I'll read.
To Nick,
the man from the future
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