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There was once a heart
Who felt lonely for all his life
He never felt anything
And never feel alive

But then one day, he met another heart
He suddenly feel the connection
The veins became insane
And for the first time, the heart beats.

He felt so alive with that heart
And later on realized how lovely life was.
It's like living on a fairytale
It was crazy and happy at the same time.

As the winter came, the other heart became cold
The heart didn't give up
He refuses to let go of the heart
But the other heart left

Love was gone and pain is here.
The heart felt lonely and feels so lifeless again
The veins were tearing apart
And for the first time, the heart breaks.
Idk why I felt so emotional writing this. I don't even know what should be the title of this. I know it's not that beautiful but it is the first time that I write something like this so please bear with me hehe.
 Jun 2017 Stacy Mills
Traveler
Okay
Let us take a moment
And break this down
If you don't believe  
In global warming
By now
You're probably not
Going to come round

But perhaps
We could take a step back
To when pollution was indeed
A matter of fact
Such as
The black factory smoke
And runoff waste
That fills our water ways
Coal soot that fills our lungs and skies
Sewage that fills our bays

Poisonous smog
Settling over our industrial cities
Toxic chemicals giving birth
Have you no empathy nor pity
"As our"
Emissions are ever choking
Scorching the earth

Can we start over
Sure it's no big deal
Can we at least agree
That pollution is real?
Traveler Tim
Is it not a poem if
words does not rhyme?

Is it not love
If I'm the only one who feels it?
Nothing helps.
The colossus has failed.
A naked fakir-
walks in dark moaning.

You ride a torpedo
to **** the gossips.It
misfires.All around
us is deep water.

An avalanche buries
the camp.You will not
climb the peak now.

The goddess is stripped
and alighted from
the rock.Let us pray
for the wildfire.

The sparks become the tears.
Let us sit in shared light
and talk about the cove.

You take the call of a cuckoo,
and start trembling in blues.

You may sing without moving the lips
but this song is mine.

Why do you want to take your―
own life, in the drag race of bazaar?

Colors will hack you to death.
Don't climb the stairway to fame.

It was renaissance. The severed
hand was writing a letter of gratitude.
To be Free

We come to be
We come to see
We come through the night to the morning light
We come from trees
We come from the sea
We come to understand we have to work the land just to feed
We all need we all agreed
We hunted for meat
We come to see
We come to be
We have found that something found is not necessarily free
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