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I was often
of those that knew which road to choose,
walking it like a familiar memory,
while I would stumble and fall.

I blindly moved forward.
Sometimes taking too long,
to pick myself up,
bruised and scraped
making up for lost time
in both lightness  
overwhelming darkness

I would pray for a sign,
a compass
to give me direction,
as the sun and moon
exchanged glances

But somewhere along my journey,
envy went missing
now I often pass by those
that knew their way-
voraciously attempting
to trace their steps
back to the road they came from

for the wrong turn they made
their mistakes

As I look back at the view
of my trail
from where I have risen
after every fall
and I see my bruises and scrapes
that created a map

I notice its key
identifying pitfalls and battlegrounds
rivers that flow effortlessly

and I find myself
at peace.
Danielle L Cook May 2017
could not
keep a secret,
though she promised
that she'd try;
her heart
could never handle
keeping it
Sofie Esmeralda May 2015
du kom med stormen
men blæste ikke væk
Jane Deer Dec 2014
Du har glemt dine drømmes vægt
slettet dit navn og dræbt din slægt
du kan intet miste
for du kan ikke huske
mit navn

i en flydende rus
ramler vi sammen i et sus

hvis du virkelig vil ha' mig
så kan du bare ta' mig
carololololo Nov 2014
det er bare tomme ord
tomme ord der fylder rummet
tomme ord der bryder igennem
stilhedens tykke vægge
ord man ved hvis betydning
ikke eksistere
fordi de tomme ord
er ord der bliver sagt
når venskabet allerede har mistet
dets ynde og pragt


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