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Hank Helman Aug 2015
We chase a thing all our lives,
Hopes and dreams like butterflies,
Elusive thing we're not quite sure,
We're often close and then demure.

Sometimes we think this thing's gone by
We turn around and soft a sigh,
Send me back, we plead and cry,
Life laughs and whispers, wave goodbye.

So what to do when lost again,
A lover lies, a friend unfriends,
The gift of us by all ignored,
Our love becomes a thing we hoard.

When everything is upside down,
You feel about to quit and drown,
It helps to know we're much the same,
You're not alone, all hold this pain.
just a simple write. A good life is a simple thing--  still learning that lesson.
sweet ridicule Apr 2015
I hate pickles
neon green colored cubes of sweet bitter vinegar fermented cucumbers that have lost their identity in green no. 3
and dealing with oblivion seems like
(green pickles)
......disgusting and
it makes me lose my identity.

so please give me adrenaline for
whenever my heart sinks
so I don't fall into oblivion
sans-identity

like pickles
read read read
Gypsy Bard Oct 2014
and Pickles from the jar,
and tiny little cars,
lined up against a hospital, far.

— The End —