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Abby M Jan 31
Did you ever hear the one about the guy?
You know, he did a few things, lived his life.
Real upstanding, I guess not outstanding, but you know, decent.
Of course you remember him.
If he was good, then wasn’t he good enough for your memories?
Ok then, I’ll ask again later...
What was I talking about?
Johnny walker Dec 2018
I held Helen In my arms
kissed her sweet lips that
tasted so good moments
that have come and gone but still so fresh In my mind
the first time I saw and
felt so guilty of ******* her with my eyes but she was so beautiful such a pretty figure
the first time I had  seen Helen In all her glory my excitement
uncontrollable I shall never forget all those wonderful
memorise such a lucky man I was to have loved Helen and lived to tell all about
Wonderful memories of Helen
precious moments spent together, and that I've lived tell of het
Johnny walker Nov 2018
There were times In my
life I thought I'd never
see any of my
just lived the
I was In
Never worried about
a thing, I'd never grow
old at least that what
I thought
But It comes to all for
we have no say, wake
up one morning hair
all turned
Lived the moment I was In never thought to grow old
Amanda Aug 2018
Days spent counting the seconds
Grasping each moment
As years pass in a blink
Time to lament
As death opens the doorway
Lifetime lived
Haylin Aug 2018
So it all fell apart again
My search history is full of numbers to overdose on
Maybe now it's the end
After all, I'm the irrational one
The world "revolves around me"
I think this time I'm done
The shattered pieces of my life slice deep
No one cares anymore how I feel
Every night recently I've cried myself to sleep
There is no point in trying to "prove them [everyone] wrong"
My heart has grown heavy and I see nothing to smile about
Regardless they'll still play my Funeral March song
And as they carry me away and into the ground
There will be music and my voice will ring in their minds
I will hear the cries screaming so loud
Mom, dad, brother, sister, boyfriend, mon ami, did I ever make you proud?
The beauty of Chopin and Beethoven in their minor keys is that the chords on the piano or the harmonics of the violin soothe my sorrowful soul with singing symphonic melodies that capture my sadness in a sometimes simple tune
To those who see this, will you tell them I never left a note?
I couldn't devote the time or bring myself to write to them a final goodbye
I want them to hang on to what ever words I last spoke to them
I want tears shed over my cheap gravestone that my parents didn't want to spend good money on
Especially for someone who was dead
Because they knew I couldn't complain if I never saw it
I want the "annoying" songs I used to play for them on the piano to fill their hearts with pain every time they hear them
I want the nostalgia and longing for me to linger in every lucid dream
I want my straight A report cards to receive a mere "good job" even if posthumously
There is pain in the most beautiful things in life
My eyes sparkle the most when I cry the hardest
The vibrant green becomes even more vivid with each swelling crystal drop
Tell them I was finally able to do something correctly
That I was finally able to succeed and go through with it
Tell them to wipe their tears with my lavender scented t-shirts
Tell them my love of pink and black was the weirdest thing about me
Although we know that wasn't quite the weirdest
Tell them whenever they see a butterfly or a flower or an animal crossing the street, that I would've shed a tear for its natural beauty
Tell them I tried my hardest to keep up with the rigor of life
Tell them that eventually every car runs out of gas
Tell them that the song, even if on repeat, will always end the same
Tell them to read my favourite books and try to understand why I loved the literature so much
Tell them not everyone is cut out for life and that sometimes people break and can't do it anymore
Towards the end my heart only struck dissonant chords
My fingers bled trying to pull the piano wire back into its proper position
I just wanted to be happy but the major chords and the consonance were out of reach
With my stick straight back I tried to fix the broken keys but nothing seemed to stay in place
I wonder what will happen now when I close my eyes and enter a deep sleep
Will I meet God or the Devil himself?
Or will it be just that... sleep
So many thoughts and so little time for me to complete them
The hourglass pours the sands of time too quickly now
The blurring ceiling sways in patterns, then up and down
I reach my hand to the sky as I lay on the ground
My tears cascade into the watery red pool around me
I don't want to bring this to an end
You who read this are my only friend
I said I'm tired and I should sleep
But you didn't know I meant I'd forever be done counting sheep
The moment I slip into an unconscious state
Saving me will already be too late
Play on repeat Chopin
Tell me how the song makes you feel now versus then
And only silence remained
As her tears still rained
And her last fleeting breath was drained
No, I dont want to **** myself
Vexren4000 Jul 2018
Cause and effect,
The fabric of our world,
Bending to the whims of man,
A person in Rome,
A mother in Babylon,
A warrior in Norway
A time far from here,
Even now,
Impacts the life of their descendants,
By having lived at all .

Madison Jul 2018
We almost made it.
It was almost enough.
I was almost enough.
She almost lived.
He almost woke up.
They almost did it.
But it wasn't enough,
Only almost.
PMc Mar 2018
Spring had not quite blossomed in this city
almost too far north
even if the spring sales were in full bloom and the spring concerts set to stage
during the moments they met.

“One for P-1”,
a man who knew what he wanted, she admired that
During the first moments of the rest of their lives together
when the computer wouldn’t compute,
he had time to admire her
he liked that, she deserved it.

Tickets expunge, cash exchanged,
eyes met, fleeting (almost not), during those unspoken moments
the unspoken had been heard loud and clear.

Spring had sprung and hope sprang springing
across the stage, up into the office, along the catwalk and the tech booth
then back through the lobby.
It touched them both, they both knew it
during those first moments of the rest of their lives.

Paul McKee
I believe that any exchange between two people, no matter how brief, is a moment in time worth recording.  Of course, the more memorable the encounter, the easier the poem.
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