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Lena Waters Jun 2015
The mountains
Grew together

As I fell, unknowing,
                                 For you.

And the mountains
Crumbled together

As I fell, lost,
                    From you.

And the mountains
Sighed together

As I fell, broken,
                          Past you.
A quick poem to cheer me up. Even though it`s kind of morbid.
Hidden among
the London masses
Lies a goddess so young
who's beauty surpassed
That of the heavens

Skin like powdered snow,
Lips like Cupid's bow;
& with Curves bestowed.

She snaps the neck
Of Everyman that
Passes forth
Thomas Maltuin May 2015
Sparkling
diamond broken
now a glittering cloud
dusting shinies
on all it touches
never forgotten
fur a furiend
Nadia May 2015
those days that we were silent, when we didn't even glance at each other, were the worst. I guess they made me more anxious to speak to you on the days you graced me with your soft smile. on those days, I made sure to really look at you, so I'd never forget.
Rockie Apr 2015
Loud.
Louder.
Even louder.
You'll never get it.
The louder the music?
The quicker the sadness goes away.
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
You haven't even heard my name,
Haven't even shaken my hand,
And already you're running from me,
Seeking to find "stable, safer land,"
Certain I'm wrong about everything,
A lout, a fool, a vagabond, filthy man.
The ignorant. Gotta love them! I've heard that hermits are in great numbers as of late-for some reason I guess...
Nadia Apr 2015
there's always talk about the calm before the storm, but I think there's an eeriness about the calm after it, too. it's almost as though nothing's happened at all. almost.
Nadia Apr 2015
she was constantly being silenced,
so it amazed her
when he told her
that he could
listen to her
speak
for hours.
Nadia Apr 2015
I had always thought of myself as an artist of some sort. That is, until I met you. It was only then that I learned what art is, where it comes from. When I met you, I only wanted to paint with the browns and oranges I saw in your eyes. I only wanted to write the words that fell from your lips. I only wanted to play the notes your voice guided me to. And when you left, I couldn't paint, couldn't write, couldn't play. I could only sing of my heartache, but even that wasn't art.  There's no beauty in sorrow.
Nadia Apr 2015
unfortunately, the absence of sadness isn't happiness, although we're often fooled into thinking it is.
I don't think that's how you spell "concise"
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