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shatteredpoet Jan 15
different pigments
doesn't change
the fact
we have the same
different religious beliefs
doesn't change
the fact
we're made of the same elements
different ****** orientations
doesn't change
the fact
we are all human
different social classes
doesn't change
the fact
none if us are
consistently happy
different lifestyles
doesn't change
the fact
we're all imperfect

J B Moore Jun 2018
She was a free spirit, held captive by the road.
He was a wandering soul, longing for a home.

She had sunlight for hair and the sky in her eyes,
His smile was a fire on a warm summer’s night

She was made of marble, beautiful and tough
He was chisled in the rock which made him strong and rough

They were two sides of the same silver coin
Two parallel lines destined never to join.

She was a free spirit, he was a wandering soul
Similarly different pieces, longing to be whole.

Soumya Inavilli May 2018
Of parallel lines that would never converge.

You and I were just the same,
running around the world chasing our dreams,
weaving colourful dramas out of
our mundane monochrome lives.

You and I were just the same,
building bridges made of thoughts to reach out
to each other whenever words fell short
and spoke often with our eyes.

You and I were just the same,
treading on the same plane carrying each
others burden and revelling in each others
happiness though our paths were never alike.

You and I are still just the same,
or maybe that's what I like to think so
we only chose to move ahead in
different directions now.

You and I will always be just the same
we sure will change with time and age but deep
inside me a part of you lives and
in you I shall continue to exist.

You and I belong to the same old story,
only now writing different versions of it in our heads,
and living the tale
of parallel lines that would never converge.
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
A collection of ‘Love is…’ Poetry

Love is a collection of thoughts.
Random thoughts,
In tandem thoughts.
Love is a collection of thoughts.

(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Danielle Free Mar 2018
The light dances on the sea’s waves like those little skater bugs that hop on a pond. The jitter of tiny lights reminds me of a time that I was fainting; the same specks of glitter shimmering in front of my eyes as I tumbled onto the bed in a cold sweat, mother at my side with a damp, white flannel. But now, as I watch the same twinkling flashes surfing the tide, in the warmth of the sun, they seem not to be as intimidating.
Danial John Mar 2018
We are similar in so many ways
We love and hate pain
We love someone who pushes us away
Someone, someday, somehow, someway
I hate other’s pain, but love wallowing in my own. Real head scratcher
Lyn-Purcell Jan 2018
Tears and water are similar
but have dissimilar
Food for thought...
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