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The voice  Nov 2012
Untitled
The voice Nov 2012
I wish you could trust me
I wish you could put
You faith on me
I wish you could give me the
Joy of trusting you own and only daugther

I am sorry for the things I have done
I am not perfect
Sorry fpr the mistakes i have done
But if atleast tried to understand.

I need a friend by my side
Teenage years are hard all by my self
I am still young and I dont need a mother anymore
I love you but I need to be free

I can not hold my self back any more.
Sorry but I need to live my own lofe from now on
The voice Nov 2012
I wish you could trust me
I wish you could put
You faith on me
I wish you could give me the
Joy of trusting you own and only daugther

I am sorry for the things I have done
I am not perfect
Sorry fpr the mistakes i have done
But if atleast tried to understand.

I need a friend by my side
Teenage years are hard all by my self
I am still young and I dont need a mother anymore
I love you but I need to be free

I can not hold my self back any more.
Sorry but I need to live my own lofe from now on
Miguel Serrano  Mar 2015
Waiting
Miguel Serrano Mar 2015
The film just ended
and I am faithfully here,
waiting.

Independently of my dependence on you
and that now
I am not concerned about my concerns,
I wait, for your message

because I have sacrificed quite a bit
for such an uncertain reward as your love might be
—I almost wrote lofe—,
and waiting for a reply is a bit quieter.

I'm sure you must be busy,
I am busy too,
thinking 'bout you,
waiting
like I have been for months I guess,
till you realised that
I am not the only one in need of the other.

During this wandering,
'Have you answered?'
that's my ocassional wondering,
but I check, and you haven't.
Doesn't matter. I just wanted to write
while I wait. Somewhat patiently.
(Laughs)

However, it is close to 01:30, thus,
as said my role, Demetrius,
in our adaptation or version:
"I'm tired. I think I'll get some rest."
This poem is a bit like Every Breath You Take, it can be seen as creepy. If You are reading this please don't get me wrong :P I find it quite poetic, not obsessive or whatever.
Daejah woolery Feb 2015
We believe foolish things when we are children
Like used to think that if I poked a scar enough times it wouldn't hurt any more because it would run out of pain
So later I kept running to you and I know it's insane
But I expected a different result
Like the disappointment and words without thought would be exhausted and the tears would come to a halt
I was wrong
And when I was younger I thought that I would always grin and bear it
That no weight was so heavy I couldn't smile while I carried it
And with that belief in mind, I thought my mirror was broken
But I realized it was only my lips
And still they tell me to crack a smile
Go the extra mile
Make it worth while
But honestly Im tired of it all
But that old me who tbought  it would be easy            
I was wrong false faulty
I was wrong
See when we are young our hearts our love our compassion is larger that we are
But we grow and grow up
And the proportion corrupt
So our heart doesn't grow with us and its suddenly too small
Unless we let it- grow that is
But I didn't so I'm asking you this
Tell me it's not too late
Tell me I can undo all the hate
With words on a page
Or deeds through the day
To put out all the flames of rage
See I'd like to believe that our hearts are made of Phoenix feathers and perennial petals
So we can blossom from the cold of isolation and rise from the ashes of hatred
That's what I believe
But if I'm wrong, I won't greave
After all I'm just a kid, my lofe is under construction and I'm still builong
And... and we believe foolish things when we are children
Mateuš Conrad May 2018
what's the difference between
a mea culpa and solipsism?
         good question,
another one of those socratic
deviations
that,  ultimately leads
into, a cul de sac
of bombardment
by facts,  mind you...
funny... funny how...
we became bored
of faking being human,
played the lesser dog,
flabergasted the gods,
and took to the responsibility
of Titans...
            by holding up
a matchstick as if it were
a 100 year old oak...
     there is a clinical sensibility
surrounding solipsism,
the antithesis of teasing the idea
narrative without a clinging
dead end labyrinth of
ideology...
    maybe I haven't met
a women to counter me...
neither did Kant...
point being:
poor schmuck ******
      and the laced love and...
the ambivalence of
womb-*****
       mirage of the two gay
fathers... love is love
and... I can't compete...
precursor warning?
thing that pays alimony...
with or without children...
that Schopenhauer "nun":
that became a Dostoyevsky motif...
alias Bukowski, ***-20th century
never the fathers of gods,
those vile breeds of titan remains...
double the children...
a ******* unesco project of
a hyper-real take on
revising drinking a glass of water...
people can't handle the heaven
in the version of
zebra... too many *******
unicorns...
people see the anchor before they
see the ship...
the one who draws the shortest
stick...
gets to laugh at the ones
"gaining" / "losing"
their minds with:
the "existence" of god
   is a motivational exemplum to
counter the proof thought...
    god exists as a counter
for the existence of thought...
shyness of θought....
                    and 'ere comes
the rainbow...
         no one size fits all...
karma Sutra for:
   those 12" Ghanaians ******
those 12" buttocks before
******* anorexic-coccyx...  
     and Sinjit's your uncle...
synonym...
     however the inexcusable
implant...
       god of the fungi...
   or:
              a thought an ought
a humming sound
surmised by a mmm-vibrato...
(trying doing the copernican W)...

thank god I am living the dead
cameo to
another recyclable endeavour...
   and yet, for all that spiritual
minimalism...
   my my... the opulent life.
  
     apparently petting cats
became a psychological migration
focus for: reinventing the point
of dreams,
      rather than a per se
interpretation of them...
        dog barks in the death of night,
I trust a cat who sleeps
more hours than he spends awake,
than a human who
asks for an inerpretation
of, a recurring dream...
    ******* dunce.
Udit Vashishth Sep 2018
...is the longest ever I've experienced.
It feels like you've gone for decades & you're not coming back.
I could barely carve your picture on
the canvas of my heart but suddenly..
Suddenly, the time comes when you've to leave.
Leaving me alone, longing for you, waiting
for you to come back soon.

It's when I realize how precious you're,
how much I love you & what it feels like
losing you even for a while.
The time when we're talking to each other
flies like a spaceship leaving the earth.
While the time when we don't, elapses like
watching a snail trying to go round the earth.

Sometimes, I wish I could stand against
the hands of clock & would try to stop
seconds, minutes or atleast hours when
we're together.
And when I would succeed, I would live
my whole lofe in that moment watching your beautiful face & forgetting all my anxieties and sorrows.

So, when you're not around, I chant your name like some devotee chanting
mantras & trying to call for his/her god,
longing for his presence.
All I think and talk about is "YOU" during the time
WHEN WE DON'T TALK.
So the time when we don't talk I think about the time when we talk a lot... That's how my time and my days are spent...
Amirah Moody  Apr 2019
Wings
Amirah Moody Apr 2019
Sometimes when I sleep
I dream I have wings
Big, beautiful wings
So I can flay away
Away from everything
From the stress
From the responsibilities
From all the bad things in lofe
I want to fly free
To see the world from above
Someday I'll open my wings
And fly

— The End —