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Suzy Hazelwood Nov 2015
Every home
has a window
but walls
can hold so much

There are faces
never seen
voices unspoken

I see sky invade
shifting clouds to mirrors
sunbeams turn glass to jewels
homes are shining

But who sees through the gleam?
Who perceives beyond the wall?
Who knows the tales behind windows?
Written after a long illness, being aware of how the world was still moving outside my window when my life was feeling very still and weak, and no-one passing by knew what I was going through.  Made me wonder just how much suffering of all kinds goes on behind windows and closed doors - and no-one ever sees beyond the sunlight reflected in pretty windows.  There is so much we never see.
Rhianecdote Nov 2015
Bambi knew way too much

Far too young

Watched Mama get shot in front

Of eyes and ears just opening

Deafening Death

When Life had just begun
S Nov 2015
I have a crush on a girl
One who is as sweet as the sugar in that ****** kids breakfast cereal
One who is as beautiful as the sunrise over the ocean
Who can sing like the birds in the trees
And yet
Those moments, from time to time
When she looks sad
Like the flowers as the sun sets behind the trees

I have a crush on a girl
Who is sad and I don't know why
And yet
She always covers it up with a smile

Her smile
The very one that makes my heart flutter
And my palms sweat

That beautiful girl
Who refuses to believe she is
Beautiful
Perfect
And sings like the birds in the trees
ArominizedM Nov 2015
I held my breath - nothing left.
Then shook her warm hand
that forever had began.
Alternative Title: Memories of a warm summer
I used to wonder
if I'd grow old lonely
because you speak so little.

I would sometimes
desperately yearn for your voice,
simply for the need of its presence in my ears.

But the more people I meet,
the more I grow to love your silence;
the more I grow to love who you were and are now.

We sometimes only lay and smile,
like little happy wizards reading minds,
as we gaze into each other's abstruse souls.

Silence is the reason
I loved you in the beginning,
then worried words got in the way.

I went a little crazy,
and blamed you for my tangled thoughts,
wishing I knew all the answers to everything; as if I could.

Soon I realized,
I was the cause of my own distress,
and you were still sitting there silent, waiting for me.

After some time,
our souls became one;
at least I would like to think so.

So don't speak.
Don't ruin it, and neither will I.
Let's live in this silence, together forever;
just knowing that we're in love.
innerThought Nov 2015
You show me many things
But seldom show me yourself
You teach me to conquer every obstacle
But to be concur with myself
I am not contempt with mind
You persuade me to think past that
when I ask asked you for advice
You said listen to the wise man
He as a lot of it
The business part of God
Made us corporate
We allow what shouldn't be
Lunar Oct 2015
i think it's hard to be friends or lovers with a writer. here's why:

1) you have to be careful of what you say, because the writers mostly take every word of yours literally and try to find the meaning in it. say what you mean, and mean what you say.

2) you also have to be wary of your grammar. those people, whom you know as writers, are grammar nazis. if they don't correct you in speech, fret not; it has been done in their word-mazed minds.

3) they will rant and rant and rant, because written words are what cool them off without having them to speak aloud. curse words, words which carry a tune, words which burn into brains... hear them out. do not be lazy to read their rants if they trust you with it. (they could rant about you TO YOU in the end.)

4) this is the hardest part. just remember that they will write about you no matter who you are or what you've done (or maybe you haven't even done anything). these people will write about how they see you. and most of the time, those writings are not so favorable. if you do not want to (literally) end up in their bad books, beware. their words may not last in ink forever but embedded into the hearts of those who read them.

happy reading and living with a reader!
for now, im stating the difficult/negative parts of knowing a writer. please look forward to the second part: perks of knowing a writer!
tabitha Oct 2015
my dear dear  d e a r  boy.... .. . ..

her eyes are pretty
her smile is wide -- & white,
just like yours
she's tall, she's slim, and
she takes good photos of you on her instagram
her small brunette bun is annoying....................ly cute
her little legs & little arms too
i'm sure it looks like something out of a magazine
when they are wrapped around you...

another hip kid from some northeast city
little Connecticutie~
did she know about me?
does she know that you live right down the street?

she hid behind your shoulder
that's how i knew
that she is in love with you, too
& it feels like someone shoved a grenade down my esophagus
and i'm just  w a i t i n g  for it to ******* in a billion bits
so i can just get over this

and then all the dads will bring their little girlies
and all the ladies will raise their strawberry daiquiris
eyeing the loose shards of my dignity
hoping that they could somehow help with their jaded seniority
going,                                  "lesson number one:
                                     love is never  always fun."
please understand that this is not a sarcastic poem.
while i do think she is stunning... this is not about her.
i wish it were that simple.
Amy H Oct 2015
Sh...
What's that whisper?
You didn't hear it?
No, only me.
It's just my soul
in the dark.

Wait...
Who's behind?
You don't feel that?
No, only me.
Just the ghost
of my shadow.

But wait...
If it speaks
and it walks,
should I be following
ignorance ahead
or the knowing soul behind?
A brief musing about not losing yourself.
All I know
Is that
Love has
   Already won.
Even if you can't see love in every moment,

Doesn't change the fact that love already won the battle.

So endure the hardship and ask forgiveness for your own short comings so that others may experience the love you know is true.
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