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#artiste
So long, life seemed splendid & youth, held such a succulent scent;those mémoires survived the ages still - so on to say & stay beyondthe horizon of wisdom. Regrets & remorse, as in the epitome of a living today, suffice sucha saddened sight of disbelief upon chapters which ceased toexist...along an algorithm, alleging a passé presumably a Passover- the moulding chapters of maturity & bringing about a change...acollapsed change The light...this light of childhood happiness, faded so fast &frequently, a belief of betterment arose from frequencies of falsefantasies & fake freedom. Entity erased entirely, doom destroyedwhoever wrote destiny & nothingness built one hell of a void; whatwent wrong?!? Only living such a specific stage of existence once,once to yearn for a relapse of singular sacrificial returns to the oldways - devising delusions of detrimental eras where, Kings & Knights knew & prophesied all together like a miraculous Mage. Isthis how it's supposed to be? Has such a childhood crossed thefinish line already or, did we reach the end of the trail? Too many questions unanswered by these ambitions, ambitions whichexceeded our worth... So long, before that end, hope retrieved what seemed splendid &youthful, as young as tonight's nature - a sky full of stars, with amoon...well...a moon to guide us home ~ A. Rose
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Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
A Paradox
Scrolling through Facebook, Born to Run in my ears, My friends celebrate that they're in the clear; The beginning of their career. There's no Wendy running with me, but that's ok. She'd only get in my way. Picking my life I jumped the gun. In bed at one for a bus at half five; "The body is dead but the spirit is alive!" Trying to read my scripts on the bus, fighting open my eyes. Won't be back for a while, so mother's last words; sweet goodbyes. Stepping off the bus, my baggage is heavy; the suitcase too. My body is worn, my jacket is torn, and there's rain in my shoe. Wendy. Where are you?
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 7:00 AM UTC
Results Day
You are an artiste painting with words shading with wit coloring with vocabulary and adding texture with subtle metaphor There is melody in the emotion elicited between the words between the very letters that you weave into the heart into my heart. 3D pictures forged in the mind's eye tacked to the soul with each line with each word with each letter You are an artiste
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Adroit