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It might be said:

Tumbling down my treacherous, traitorous tower,
Of hope I thought was the greatest petal of my flower.
Reflecting, refracting,
Revisioning my thoughts
For the hour of my death was a second from naught.

The flower of petals,
Of dazzling, daunting life,
Of elegant, empathetic love…
I never realised all of such would be tough
To truly clench,
Hold in my eyes,
When every other petal was crowded with lies
Which confidently smiled and smirked in my face,
Convinced me,
To irrevocably love this life with haste,
To grin at the tower, smoothened with glace.

The flower of formidable life,
Of practical love,
Of transposing colour.
Vibrancy spread by its central, salient stigma.
Of secrets,
Confessions of my imperfection,
My disinterest in life,
In simulated lovers,
In sensual, plastic, flexible hardcovers.

And so I glanced at
The departing turret,
The surreal, realistic, reality of life,
Of people who live,
But do not really live,
For the petal which fell,
Decided never decide to give
Its distinctive love to anybody other
Than the traitorous hand which pulled,
Tore, and Crushed its heart,
And left it to stumble upon its death.

He once asked me, "What is love?"
Johnny walker Feb 12
If you had met Helen for the first and knowing nothing about her she would have spoken to you just as If she'd known all of her life truly amazing she

Never known anyone that could make friends so easily everybody loved her
she had time for everyone
Speak to anyone she was really special

Just a shame life didn't treat her the same way but Instead was very cruel to such a kind lady who deserved so much better than she

I'm not a big fan of this world we have to live In I suppose I have a great deal of anger towards the Catholic Church that failed
After all, she had given everything to them to the point of becoming unwell and the priest turned their backs on her In her hour need of

I believe In a God, but not
the dog collier brigade that failed my wife In her hour of need so yes I do have anger for my wife gave so much kindness but asked nothing for
But should receive at least recognition for what she'd done poor girl forgotten by the church that she gave so much time to shame on them the Catholic Priests as they have a lot to answer
What with child abuse so I won't be attending church either now or In the future, God bless my wife for all she did and may she rest in peace

Helen Mary Walker
22nd July  
1955 - 23rd Dec
A special tribute to my wife who gave so much to the Catholic Church who failed her In her hour of need
Stay sad Feb 11
I didn't know
I've been doing this for so long
I met you online
We had only one chat
About an hour
But you changed my life
In a bad way
In a way I can't describe
At that exact moment
The lies started
And have never stopped since
Out of the blue, I replied to an Email one day sent from a lady In Texas who said she felt compelled to help me having read one of my
I decided to reply and so happy I did for I've never looked back for this lady who messaged In my hour of need It then that I realised how kind this lady truly Is
for she's helped me to see there can be life after loss and
now Instead of looking  back, I'm now trying to move forward In a positive
way, thanks to my true Texas friend who Is always
there for me as I am for her, Friends Till We Go Home

Dedicated to my friend
Terry Kay
Friends Till We Go Home
Kinsey Dec 2018
All I ever wanted was that hour glass.
To be pretty and normal like them.
To be the cheerleader
To not be the freak.

All I ever wanted was that hour glass.
A figure like my mom and sisters
To be long tall and desirable.
To not be like me.

all I ever wanted was that hour glass
But nature wasn’t kind to me.
A cups, a skinny waste and a round fat behind.
Are what I got instead.

All I wanted was an hour glass.
Not just 90 pound of low self esteem
And a round fat ***.
Maxim Keyfman Oct 2018
behind the curtains behind the back
behind the new spaces
behind the back new curtains behind the back
new means old and vice versa
behind back behind back
behind back behind back

gone day and gone hour
wasn't it always the case
what is always our every hour
we were with red napkins
and all forever they spun and flew
we have with us somewhere near namely
behind back behind back behind your
and my

Maxim Keyfman Oct 2018
and this rain and this sun
and this day says again
says your melody
your long lost name
both this hour and this minute
again my tears are flowing
and repeats again and again
an hour and everything is born again
and dies and everything disappears again
all over and over again
first birthdays and last
days are the days of my life and yours and
your happiness and your sadness
everything again and again everything goes lives
both this night and this rainstorm
i hear your name again and again

Marianna Oct 2018
i laugh, i joke, i play around
the busy days are the reason why i'm around
the days of working, fighting, staying up late
those busy days that keep me awake

i smile, i talk, i hold back my frown
the busy hour is what keeps me down
the hour that i don't have to face myself
that busy hour that i can fill my hollow shell

but the time comes when i'm no longer busy
my loneliness is the only thing that stays with me
that time that i turn into a void of nothingness
when it's only me, my sorrow and my emptiness
i hurts knowing im all alone,
i have nothing, i am nothing
dairy Oct 2018
a warm sheet to comfort
us from the cold
of the room

a sun kissed hair i smell
as we cuddle
through the night

to question what we are
to question where we'll be
you gave my heart a beating
adrenaline rushing

my poor eyesight
made it difficult to see
in the dark
but a foreign image
in my head
made it clear,
a neurotic blueprint

we were anxious
we are doubtful
but the moment we stopped
it all began

an angel in the night
a heaven in ****
now we bind
by the kiss
in the devil's hour
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