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PoETE Poet-Pete Mar 2014
Being a GEMINI, is my furthest and farthest cry,
But my closest friend between you and I….
You wake me up, and make me smile; you raise my mind and allow me to try,
Than sometimes you fry my wires, and allow me to try and die,
And it is this that fuels my fire, that exposes this real man, this true guy,
I will never allow the challenges of my mind, to control my high,
Keep on moving don’t slow down, crush the competition between you and I,
For the rest of my existence, I shall continue to try,
And when tears tend to grow, than I too shall cry,
The one thing we can never forget is May 21st to June 21st all you Gemini……….
This explains the life that Ive had to battle in good ways and bad ways being a June Gemini.One of my hardest cries, longest battles, and for depest wounds, but above and beyond all of this, I have learned to live and learn, and never allow things inside to burn your dreams, or scar your visions.


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PoETEPETE
{2000 ~~ 2015}
~©~ Protected & never neglected.
PoETE Poet-Pete May 2015
Support and structure, were at one point ideal, but now as days fly by the ******* is all real, I'm a solo soldier, with a very lonely soul, my mind has  exploded, and every second I suffer the toll, I'm in it alone, like it's been since birth, hard to hold a value to self, when you have never felt self worth, as I walk and witness, I witness and walk, the more that I witness, the less that I talk.
......... but mostly I'm confused, I've been confused since my first Dream.


All
Content
Written by
PoETEPETE
{2000 ~~ 2015}
~©~ Protected & never neglected.
PoETE Poet-Pete May 2015
Let this demon free
Who wonders and cries inside of me,
Clinching my soul and even my breathe,
He drains me complete like crystal
****,
Stealing my brain but not my heart,
I'm still the same as from the start,
Judge me now and sentence me
later,
My love for you will always grow greater......
Always love and respect yourself.


All
Content
Written by
PoETEPETE
{2000 ~~ 2015}
~©~ Protected & never neglected.
JLF Sep 2014
A lonely man,
alone he stands,
crying deep into his hands,
his life shelled in a can,
seeing life, and so he ran,
tears separating into strands,
his name never spoken of over the lands,
he is a lonely man.

His life is boring and awful too,
his joy short and brief like a word,
he hopes to meet something one day,
but he already knows he will rue,
the day he isn’t socially absurd,
so now he lives in dismay.
Sad to say but some people are plagued with a life like this.  This is a Petrarchan poem.

— The End —