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David Cunha Jun 2017
I am yours.
I have no choice and I don't want to choose,
I am yours.
In your womb started the journey,
I am yours.
Besides any hate or stumble and our great disagreements,
I am yours.
Not because you made me, because you fed me your holy milk and the serum of words,
I am yours.
Through every night awake I always thought of you,
I am yours.
You are as sincere as a sharp blade and I love it,
I am yours.
I have never cried for a woman the way I cry for you,
I am yours, my first teacher, my eternal goddess.
To my mother 14 june 2017
Christine Jun 2017
i would like to believe that
loving so hard in you
is not a waste

i would like to believe that
leaving me behind
takes everything in you

i would like to believe that
you own your reasons
that it hurts you like it did to me

i would like to believe that
throwing us away
is another intangible gift i could possibly give to you

i would like to believe that
this whole feeling for you
won't go on waste

i would like to believe that
those aches in my heart is necessary
those pain in my memory is alright
each time i am hurting, you feel the same too
each tears and memories

i would like to believe that
the roads we ever passed, the places we ever been to, the memories we shared
you also sealed them in your mind and heart
always seeing them
like me

i would like to believe that
those smile on my face
is still your favorite thing
at ease because of them
like me

i would like to believe that
sometimes in remembrance of me
smile, shed tears because of me
perhaps surprisingly,
like me
it is not a waste loving someone so hard and give all of you for that one person you called 'Home', it is okay not be able to let that one person go even after all this pain, it's okay you still want him to come back even after all this time, if you ever heard people scolded you over this matter, believe me it won't go a waste when it comes on being sincere, because it's heart .
Yap Karita May 2017
I saw in you every possible potential. Every early warm meal by the patio—with every minute the flitted sounds of a subtle breeze— touching by us like a touch-less kiss. I saw every grit and wit there was in you like every other—but it was real and colorful and filled with the charm that every temptation could not compare. And there would be, these languid notes, as you lean to my left, and the view panning afar —and that so seemed— to make life as simple and perfect so more.
It takes a great deal out of you to admit you're wrong.
We don't ever like to own up to it.
Being wrong isn't on anyone's bucket-list.
(At least no one's I know)
I will say one pro of any apologetic situation:
It is a terrific weapon.
A decent apology can bring most anybody
to their knees.
Frankly, I think we should all relish the opportunity.
Make amends for losing the battle,
and as a result win the war.
However don't take this weapon lightly.
It will jade you.
Ruin your concept of sincerity.
Not just for yourself, but for others.
We must never forget that sometimes we really are
Sorry.
I apologize, dear friend, I seem to have ruined your dinner party
with all my talk of apology.
A cynical look at the difficult task of apologizing.
Amory Caricia Feb 2017
the falling of leaves
from the family trees
and the changing of wayward tides

the height above seas
or two hundred degrees
or the place where the devil hides

atmospherics of pressure
set not for good measure
could never offset what I've done

for I swore it my strongest
I held it the longest
that forever I'd love just this one

holding my hands to detain
his smiling eyes entertain
tufty hair that is perfect for rumpling

summer nights out in rain
like symphonic refrain
little thoughts that he stops me from crumpling

just our walk in the park
just might stave off the dark
of the presence of all things unlovely

'cause his embrace is a lark
each soft kiss leaves a mark
and each day this perpetuates doubly

so the spring that I've kept
turns winter to concept
though outside be they blizzards of cold

I love his without, his within
the mystique of his skin
and his soul that with mine will grow old
MH <3 <3 <3
yung roshi Jan 2017
i don't believe it
i cannot take it
you might mean it
but i'll just fake
you're so sincere
i'm so full of ****
thoughtful words i hear
and i still can't quit
freeing the mind Jan 2017
I’m seeking inspiration, as this is what I am lacking,
For me be the source of this,
A tranquil guide, my focus, my distraction
Tell me the stories of what makes your heart so tender.
Show me your memories, and allow me to imagine you as a child
Tell me of what you fear and what creates warmth within you.
Let me discover what makes your body tremble
Allow me to see your smile which is hidden,
to hear the laughter when your kind of comedy is spoken,
The real, the genuine and the deepness within you
This is what I wish to be my inspiration.
not the best , quick and simple, requires alot of work
ji Jan 2017
When love is the spine of the universe,
   you are its heart, and I its body.
  
I contain you
   in me.

But without you, my own,
   I shall not live nor shall the universe
   know about love,
   for there will not be your words
   that is the blood, slowing through my veins.
Toby Lucas Dec 2016
If one word was to define who you were -
Not what you were like or how you come across -
But what and who you are,
I would strive for sincerity.
Capturing the nuance of being counter-cultural
(stark against the world we live in);
Honest to the point of perfect precision in what I say and mean;
Genuine in openness and lacking deceit;
Firm and unmoving against the tide;
Secure in the validity of that on which I stand;
Disciplined for integrity and truth;
Heartfelt and reliable (despite frequent shortcomings);
Prepared not only to go the distance but to run it,
To invest and care through thick and thin,
Not to forgo earnest in the buffering and buffeting;
Wholeheartedly honourable, the man others would wish to be;
Virtuous and steadfast in quality and character,
A rock to hold onto, a solid foundation,
A dedication to being authentic and true.
No false wax to the visage you see,
An artistic and inhuman ideal.
-
Sincerity has been under attack, besieged as an unachievable goal
In a world focused on the self - to be selfless seems foolishness.
Attention in this life lasts the sum amount of difficulties;
We flee from the floodplains when the river comes
Rather than endure and be refined by rich streams.
Sincerity does not crumble under commitment,
Nor erode in the face of effort:
Prepared to invest, forgoing instant gratification,
Persevering under pressure whilst all else fades.
It does not shrink from the fight but turns its cheek,
It forgives the slight and suffers for the lost,
It carries the cross for the rejected and the weak,
It sacrifices all it has at great personal cost,
It stands up to scrutiny when it stands for truth,
It lives and dies in unfathomable love.
It's been a while. Hello, poetry. Winter 2016
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