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#beautifulwoman
She looked like she had it all together She laughed more in ten minutes than I had in a month I wanted to talk to her about it But I didn’t want to dump my pain on her all at once I’d never seen such a natural beauty It wasn’t just her face, it was the way she wore it There was nothing to draw attention Except her happy eyes and the way they were lit You don’t look like you need me baby But you’re not wearing a ring You’re out on the town You don’t look like you’re missing a thing But everybody needs somebody And I want it to be me I just have to calm myself down And remember it’s real and not a dream There she goes out the door Her long brown hair waving goodbye If I hadn’t been so taken I wouldn’t have acted so shy It seemed whatever I could say Couldn’t open a door that didn’t need to open I guess love is just about luck You can’t walk up and say you’re the one I’ve chosen You don’t look like you need me baby But you’re not wearing a ring You’re out on the town You don’t look like you’re missing a thing But everybody needs somebody And I want it to be me I just have to calm myself down And remember it’s real and not a dream
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Standing Across the Room
The story on her back was painted by empty cargo ships, leaving this earth but sailing to find who you are, or to deliver the news of who you are now; the answer was revealed when someone thought her name, filling the silence in a noisy room But it was not in the wings that moved; as she strained her face never moved; concern was the watchtower of her life; was judgment in the eyes of the man who could not turn his eyes away? But it was her choice as it always is for a beautiful woman The life on the streets watched as the dream disappeared without charging fare to those who begged to pay for a new life; he looked to the sky but did not return his gaze because they did not know each other; but blue knows blue and storms pass because calm is for worry He wanted to listen to birds singing instead of interpreting darkness; as terrified of being hurt as he was of being rejected the litheness of her smooth neck revealed only his own attraction; but does a man lose his dream or find a new one because she left without a sound? He was tired of suggestion or hint; he wanted straight talk, no matter if romance was left behind; she was a human being with every right to suffer alone, but she didn’t know why or if she should cherish the pain, caught up in blessed hope covered by a past that told her story The comfort of shadows was because the sun asked too many questions; fear is the only real power in the universe; fear of dying, fear of living; there are things she wants to tell someone in case the morning never arrives, but though the sun rose the ship finalized the distance between us
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
The Paint on Her Back
The story on her back was painted by empty cargo ships, leaving this earth but sailing to find who you are, or to deliver the news of who you are now; the answer was revealed when someone thought her name, filling the silence in a noisy room But it was not in the wings that moved; as she strained her face never moved; concern was the watchtower of her life; was judgment in the eyes of the man who could not turn his eyes away? But it was her choice as it always is for a beautiful woman The life on the streets watched as the dream disappeared without charging fare to those who begged to pay for a new life; he looked to the sky but did not return his gaze because they did not know each other; but blue knows blue and storms pass because calm is for worry He wanted to listen to birds singing instead of interpreting darkness; as terrified of being hurt as he was of being rejected the litheness of her smooth neck revealed only his own attraction; but does a man lose his dream or find a new one because she left without a sound? He was tired of suggestion or hint; he wanted straight talk, no matter if romance was left behind; she was a human being with every right to suffer alone, but she didn’t know why or if she should cherish the pain, caught up in blessed hope covered by a past that told her story The comfort of shadows was because the sun asked too many questions; fear is the only real power in the universe; fear of dying, fear of living; there are things she wants to tell someone in case the morning never arrives, but though the sun rose the ship finalized the distance between us
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I could see the forest; I was standing far away; but you only feel the lost fawn stumbling; the path, washed over by leaves; a baby bird, fallen; not to be found; a startled bear, searching for her cub; surprising a fearful hiker; a random path, cut by rain without permission; the shadows, so jealous of the sunlight; allowing, if only for a moment, it’s life; losing the colors of its past, without memory or sentiment; sentiment; only to give birth just in time for another fire; yes, you only could think it as just that old thing; it was only a sundress; worn so many times before; but it was the magic of the rain forest; the teeming life within, with the spirit and the glory of a your soul; you can't decide if you're it's mother or it's lover; but the gaps between each strand of your hair; filled by my hands, like the sunlight begging the dark shadows for forgiveness; while my eyes search your heart for the path the breeze carves each day, wet with the dew shaken from the leaves that wish they were you
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
If You Only Knew