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Dost thee care for it which belongest not to you ?
Dost thee care for them who walk on wreckage as thou didst?
Why are the words misconstrued?
Why is the truth hard to you?
Ever that thou sowest
When yieldest the possibility of lowest
Measure thine life's circumference
Since thou revolvest most near the dark
Often it be the most absorbed
How thou mess with a mere sector
Yet the most of it collapsest
Sweating in the smoke to keep going
It requirest lest of a hope
Thee who dost not hear the screams
Cannot hear the sayings
Those qualms pushing to help that which benefits us nothing
To care for those who're going through that which we once nagged about
Those push and pulls could be the way to acumen
Don't beat yourself up.
What ever
happened is not
your fault.
When something bad
the world doesn't come
to a halt.
I keep blaming myself about a tragic event that happened in my family, only I didn't really do anything. But that's not the way I see it.
Too much poems
Too much stories
Too much love
Too much Hate
Too much desire
When will it be?
When will I find a love that’s mine
They say, “you’ll see a sign, all in due time”
But they don’t understand the issue I’m having
My emotions are trapped inside me gathering
I can’t see the forest for the trees
And I can’t keep begging for a man down on my knees
the Hail Mary transgression:
falling in love with me when it crosses over the line

guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman,
with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness,
which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate

but you woman, deserve to learn that
fantasy that crosses broken lines,
is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of
it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched

guess time to share that your fantasy is the
number one commandment
that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience,
and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be,
Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman

I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet,
so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous
and hold the fantastic fantasty of them dear,
so close and so near,

wrote them each love poems, and they know it,
now, here, in my confessional booth,
my priestly punishment always the same,
ten thousand Hail Mary’s,
but I cheat and just write another poem,

this one is about the line that never can  could  will be
crossed, hail mary!
The Duke from Man of La Mancha
When I see you,
my heart skips a beat.

When I hear you,
I'm all ears.

When I speak with you,
I stutter a bit
and lose my words.

When I see you smile,
I smile back from ear to ear.

When I shake your hand,
I want to hold
it forever.

When I think of you,
I can't stop.

When I dream of you,
I am left
A special someone...
stars align,
and when pigs fly,
then you
can tell me how much
you love me
because it is clearly
a lie.
Steve 5d

When hearts entwine
Yours and mine
When paths combine
Yours and mine
When stars align
Yours and mine
When heaven shines

When two souls step outside of time
Like yours and mine
My words could caress your ears,
and you still wouldn't hear.
"That I love you?"
"That I love you."
And I might be crazy
but when I look in your eyes
Some part of me says
You were meant to be mine.
noir Jan 28
I feel like Ink

Ink soothes

Ink feels

Ink flows

Ink loves

I’m not ink

I’m so terribly far from being Ink

Are you Ink

Or are you just an actor

Either way

You’re beautiful

Enjoy your Ink’d days


<insert static text>
ok this is about ink. whether you believe me or not.
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