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Ghostverses Aug 2021
I forever stand with you
even if it's till our dreams end
if I told you to stay in
would you break my little rotten apple?
Just cause' you ended up in a grave?
Look at the end and read the end words :)
Ghostverses Apr 2021
I love how you imagine us together
Oh how knifes are so pretty.
Idk i just came up with this while in math class
Michael T Chase Mar 2021
Problem solving is about mental checklists:
1. Getting the "groceries";
2. Not getting munchies.

In divine revelation, two explanations go together if they are on the same subject.
If not, they usually are counters of each other in my heart, unifying only in wisdom.
Or, they can never morph their qualities into different ones.
Same for linear algebra.

In Plato's pedagogy of music, philosophy, then physics, math progresses from simple sound differences, to logic, to matter and space, because these mirror denser aspects of reflection requiring greater precision.
Ghostverses Feb 2021
Snow.
White, fluffy, wet.
Snow.
Smiles, laughs, joy.
Snow.
Air, ice, clouds.
Snow.
Every flake is unique on it's own.
Snow.
Apart as but together make tons.
Snow.
Schools are out, students are about.
Snow.
Cars are sliding, trucks are providing.
Snow.
Roads are frozen, salt is spreadin'.
Snow.
You are the reason why I stay in the-
Snow.
I made this in the middle of my first period class. Hope you enjoy! <3
vonny Apr 2020
Sunlight pours through a glass pane, filling the room with gentle warmth,

kissing my face.

and i know one truth.

i love you <3
happiness is great
Àŧùl Nov 2019
Today I received it!
My own novel!
7 Seconds: A Typical Guy, Atypical Life!
My HP Poem #1811
©Atul Kaushal
Ackerrman Oct 2019
Bouncing bubbles, thin dew stands jubilant
Atop Poppie’s vibrant, happy colour.
Poppies in summer time are in a trance,
Smiling rapturously: scarlet music!
C notes rise on a breeze, crimson follows
In a waltz, a samba- zounds, Fiddlesticks!
The garden would be desperately hollow,
Daffodils mope until crimson rhythm
Bursts spontaneous, famous elation
Ricochets, the hanging baskets fathom,
The chain braking freedom born stagnation.
Poppies will dance for the rest of their lives
And drink the sweet nectar, high as a kite.
Third piece  from a series of garden flower sonnets
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