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45/F/Michigan
Writing is a reminder that I'm still alive. A hippie with a gypsies touch. Hollow, trying to embrace the earths saliva. Ask me anything I'm …
Poems
Halo
Nov 2017
Look at the girl,
She's flawless.
Her inner beauty shines so bright.
You have to try and play keep-away,
Try with all your might.
She is Flawless.
She says she trusts you,
But you know she does not.
She wants to keep him all to herself,
And she has tied you in a knot.
She is not Flawless.
Look at yourself,
You're definitely NOT flawless.
You may have inner beauty but it is dull and unliving,
Your glasses make your eyes seem too big
And your friends are unforgiving.
You are not Flawless.
No one is Flawless,
No one is Perfect,
No one is You,
And you are You in every aspect.
Be Yourself,
No matter how crazy you are.
You may not belong here,
But there is always somewhere afar.
You are flawless in your own way.
Flawless
She's flawless.
Her inner beauty shines so bright.
You have to try and play keep-away,
Try with all your might.
She is Flawless.
She says she trusts you,
But you know she does not.
She wants to keep him all to herself,
And she has tied you in a knot.
She is not Flawless.
Look at yourself,
You're definitely NOT flawless.
You may have inner beauty but it is dull and unliving,
Your glasses make your eyes seem too big
And your friends are unforgiving.
You are not Flawless.
No one is Flawless,
No one is Perfect,
No one is You,
And you are You in every aspect.
Be Yourself,
No matter how crazy you are.
You may not belong here,
But there is always somewhere afar.
You are flawless in your own way.
Flawless
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
A flawless poem (Jan. 2014)
Nat Lipstadt
Jan 2014
a flawless poem
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one
my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get
if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess
lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing his rest,
a paper record to join his ash,
his flawless poem,
at long last
if such there were,
will always be,
the next one
my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get
if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess
lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing his rest,
a paper record to join his ash,
his flawless poem,
at long last
Written in ten minutes when Frivolous Treasure, Ingrid, and SE Reimer
excised it from with me, a triage performed and a poem delivered, fluid and tear wet, while Mozart's Serenade No. 13 for Strings harmonized what ever music the man has left.
flawless? Perhaps one slightly less flawed.
give us your names and I will write someday
what my heart knows exists
Words are hopeless, poor substitutes for what they in vain,and we too, we call the heart's decay but this poem give unto me a deeper satisfaction than most...
excised it from with me, a triage performed and a poem delivered, fluid and tear wet, while Mozart's Serenade No. 13 for Strings harmonized what ever music the man has left.
flawless? Perhaps one slightly less flawed.
give us your names and I will write someday
what my heart knows exists
Words are hopeless, poor substitutes for what they in vain,and we too, we call the heart's decay but this poem give unto me a deeper satisfaction than most...