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#kyrielle
Four friends together for dinner, Made speeches while the night grew thinner, First was, “I’d like to make a toast, To the man who needs friends the most.” The second went with a smile, And said, “Let’s scorn people so vile, That decide to brag, tease and boast, To the man who needs friends the most.” The third stood, his face full of food, And said, though his manners were crude, “Let us dedicate this fine roast, To the man who needs friends the most.” “We’re all good people are we not? Unless there’s something I’ve forgot, Let’s announce ourselves,” said the host, “To the man who needs friends the most.”
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Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 9:31 AM UTC
The Man That Needs A Friend The Most
What’s that creak-crack in the house? Was it a person or a mouse? What’s that shadow on the floor? That Monster through my closet door? The fear of it I must contain. It’s started to drive me insane. I can’t take it anymore! That monster through my closet door. I can’t stay here home alone, It starts to chill me to the bone, It’s making me a total bore, That monster through my closet door The closet keeps making loud pings, It keeps me from doing routine things, I now keep clothes in a drawer, That monster through my closet door!
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Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Monster in my Closet
Patience is my super power On full display every hour If someone mad gets in my face My patience helps me maintain grace When railroad crossings block the road I simply enter patient mode If caught up in a traffic jam My calmness filmed by traffic cam Long checkout lines leave some irate Patience helps me endure the wait Restaurant wait times are the worst Composure wards off loud outbursts Patience is my super power Keeps my life from going sour One exception my Kryptonite Sibling face-offs leave me uptight!
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Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Patience
A boarding pass, a taken seat: Deny the oft-occluded street And while the miles away on high - Good Lord, preserve me if I die. The cramp and bustle of the aisle Refutes the notions "sleek" and "style", But, packed and stacked, we came to fly - Good Lord, preserve me if I die. I'll miss the rails and roads, well-tracked - And miss them more, my stomach wracked By nerves, by swerves, by wind and sky - Good lord, preserve me if I die. "I loved the skyplane's daring curves In youth, but now her fuel reserves Do more to shore my faith," I sigh. Good Lord, preserve me if I die. I ache to meet the ground once more, But not too soon. If that's the score, I plead, spare my beloved's eye. Good Lord, preserve me if I die.
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
a sparrow's belly (kyrielle)
*Touching hearts, easing minds let ink and souls intertwine with truth and love so divine trust the muse to be your guide. Whisper words upon silken skin with softest ink flowing from pen touching souls deep within trust the muse to be your guide. Pen your ink in loves design let beauty fill the heart and mind as the softest of inks gently combine trust the muse to be your guide. Under the stars twinkly shine let ink and beauty intertwine kissed by silver moonshine trust the muse to be your guide. ~* © 2017 Brianna Love/SA/DBMA
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
Touching Inks
Oh what is life if not a thrill, To crawl, to walk, to run downhill, To mumble, crumble to old age, To this end I shall live my days? To be unseen, to be unknown, To be afraid to be alone, To toil to scrape a living wage, To this end I shall live my days? Or yet, to pillage viking halls, To barrel-roll Niagara Falls, To greet a shark without a cage, To this end I shall live my days! Oh what is life if not a thrill, To this end I shall live my days!
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
What Is Life?
The day before was so perfect He’s always there just to protect He sang her song, painted her face He left her with such tender trace She smiled at him, she admired more All his good traits deep to the core She dreamed to hold, to hug, to chase He left her with such  tender trace The day they danced in that grand ball She never thought that she would fall Unto his arms, to his embrace He left her with such tender trace And from the day that he was gone She cried from evening up to dawn She missed more of their fine, sweet mace He left her with such tender trace But moment would come to renew The pledge and dream would still come true There in her heart, there is a place He left her with such tender trace.
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
THE TRACE
Tonight I have decided That love should be indicted Because I am not the final "Z" But alas I am free. Yesterday I said good bye I'm deserving of a wise guy Because I am not a bourgeoise But alas I am free. Tomorrow I may just weep It's hard to feel incomplete Yes, I don't flow like the ocean sea But alas I am free Currently I am exultant For this is the resultant I am a bel esprit (But) Alas I am free
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Alas I am free