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I calculate your looks and sighs
into equations full
of paranoid lies.
You glance away
in mid "say say"
and I could feel you leave.
This is my last resort,
to try and make things clean
Nothing more to report
Nothing goes unseen.

This is my last resort,
I'm damaged oh Im hurting now,
this is my last resort,
You never even asked me how...

I won't live forever
You know that's the truth
and I can't depend on clever
It has nothing to to do with you.
 Jun 2017 Sincerely Em
Traveler
I could never convince you
Of the things I feel inside
All the numbness
Never healing
Because to me
It's do or die

Not lingering
On my sorrow
No depression
To convey
I get high
On Mother Nature
No regret
Can make me salve

Will you be here tomorrow
Or leave an empty page
In words displayed
In sorrow
Why do
Broken Poets
Have to fade?




........
Traveler Tim
Her aura was magical,
Layers of bright colours -
A mirror-image of a beautiful rainbow,

She was the smile on a morbid day,
A breath of fresh open air,
She was the high
After feeling low.

She was a warm embrace
After a long lonely day,
A reassuring word,
A hand to hold,

She took you into her heart,
She brought you out of the cold.

She made your heart smile,

Even if only for a short while,


She was contagious,
She was sincere,

She made you happy
Whenever she was near.

She knew who you were,
She extracted your good intentions without you needing to speak
A single word,

She made you feel like you knew her,
All of your natural life,
She never made you feel unheard.

She was a one-of-a-kind, kind of lady,

She encapsulated a heart
That was transparent,
Nothing about her was at all shady.

Her eyes told an intriguing story,
Never-ending in depth and mystery,

She made you want to know
All about her--her complete
Life-long history.

She never pretended to be anything,
But her true self,

Her richness was made up of
Her kindness, and her warm
Loving heart;
This was her grand wealth.

She was a one-of-a-kind, kind of lady,

She encapsulated a heart
That was transparent,
Nothing about her was at all shady.

She made you feel blessed
To have known her - lucky indeed!

She was a rare wild flower;
Overlooked by some,
Unfortunate, for them,
That those few, saw only a ****.

It was sadly their loss,

Someone like her, again,
They would never, ever
Come across!

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
a heart made of stone
never will know
the freedom love holds

never at rest
the living dead
where a heart is kept

tight in the grip
dark in the chest
thoughts in the head

it must soften up
a heart made of stone
if it's ever to know love
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