Corny rhymes and
shitty poetry.
I wish you knew how much
you still mean to me.

unnamed 7h

I really haven’t left you
I’m only going home
Think of me and smile for a while

Feel your heart within you
And sing with every beat
Think of me and smile for a while

Walk on meadow grasses
Feel them soft beneath your feet
Think of me and smile for a while

Remember pleasant moments
Hold them deep inside
Think of me and smile for a while

I’ll always be with you
Walking by your side
Think of me and smile for a while

unnamed 7h

I have lingered in the shadows of deceit
Where the bonds of love and kindness never meet
I have tasted every tear ever cried
In the face of honesty I have lied

I have let love slowly fade away
And arms stretched out in need I kept at bay
Acts of kindness and forgiving I did deprecate
Links to the past had sealed my fate

And I have cried alone

unnamed 7h

There’s a place where flowers grow
And a mark the footprints never show
Where a falling leaf will float on down
To be laid to rest on a hallowed ground

Darkness fell and then moved on
Dewdrops glistened at the break of dawn
The love I thought would always stay
Whispered goodbye, and went away

unnamed 7h

I screamed into the canyon
Forgive me please forgive me
My voice echoing off its walls
And all that were left were memories
When but from grace one falls

I looked down into the canyon
To see a river flow
As it wandered along below me
With no where else to go

As you stand in hushed shadows
Would bitter teardrops sting your eyes?
While you looked down in that canyon
To see where my body lies

Keep on, drag on,
rope tethered, slack in both ends,
feed sack and feet hanging,
soil and sod, plodding forward,
sighs and whimpers,
murmurs and whispers,
all the while, in the wild,
across thresholds of heather,
old and weathered,
he cracks the whip,
dips a hat to the ladies
that pass his purchase,
adjusting his old coat,
torn, faded, tattered,
singing a auld tune, yea,
a silly, whimsical thing,
from when it all mattered.

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been.”
- Kurt Vonnegut
unnamed 17h

Bury my soul in autumn leaves
So that the wind might blow away
Memories of mistakes I made
That breaks my heart today

Sticks and stones may break the bones
But words can crush the spirit
Raise the bar but once again
And I’ll still try to clear it

unnamed 17h

When my winds cease to blow
And the glow of daylight
To no longer show
Will past digressions be visited upon?
Or be decided the forgiveness
That my heart has longed?
When I am laid to my final rest
Will hurts abscond from my weary breast?
Or will heartbreaks follow me
And linger for, all eternity?

This is a robbery
  of what makes you,
makes me.
This is my honey;
  I fit inside of you;
  This is melting.

Our malls are fiends
  and our soccer fields
are growing stronger;
  our sports are growing
trophies our children
  could never be.

This is daddy's blood;
  our hero, our stud.
Working hard to
  help the factory.
This is poverty.
This is you and me --
               a robbery
we love to applaud.

This is blood, blood,
This is you and
         this is me.

rhi 19h

your name
no longer tastes like fire
on my tongue;
it tastes
like the ashes you left
the first time
you burned me.

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