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#sadlife
Life is as tear drops of the morning. When the sun throws its warm kiss Away to the drop, It becomes an invisible entity.
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Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 7:31 AM UTC
Oh, Poor Life!
What do we do, when we no longer have control, no longer can say, do, or change a thing about a situation. We just have to accept it, as painful as it is. We need to learn to live with it...
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Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 10:15 AM UTC
No control
Breathing in the fresh air near the trees of serpentine purple, To inhume the dolour of my dejected loneliness.. In the distressing ire I am that lacustrine,, Listening the soft lay in the beautiful lea.. People know, my wounds are plumbless,, No tears in my orbs , seems I am mage.... People here are serpents who don't slay,, But are giving the bad sempiternal gashes... Now look at my stygian tenebrous visage,, From which poesy is flowing with a plashing sound... You,, know their life was in pitch_dark,,, Now is lucent and niveous, orgulous!! what I did,, Those toys of clay rend me savagely,,, Now my vermilion ichor exhibits the beautiful limn. People of this era are pitiless,, my dear!!! Are deceiving ere and after, not caring for eld..
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Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 4:53 AM UTC
SELFISH PEOPLE
Sat in a daydream Flew far above the clouds Looking for a definite direction Navigate life I saw a beautiful universe The galaxies were greeting And the stars were winking Dear moon , Accompany my wounded Wipe out my sadness Dear moon, Radiate your beauty Cheer me up Take me along with you Achieve dreams Grant my heart   Although in reverie.
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Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 3:57 PM UTC
Dear moon
Life seems beautiful when I see you smile Though apart thousands of mile Life seems ugly when there is gloom on your face Even when we are together at a place..
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Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 11:54 AM UTC
Gloomy togetherness
She walked alone Wearing a winter jacket in fall Poorly dyed red hair and old makeup All she wanted was to be loved
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Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC
Hold Me, Hold Me
As we all wake up But we aren't the same Continuously living the same as we did yesterday Dying inside cause we feel we have nobody Everyone not caring what they say For some people, fight to save their life Giving her life Her life is now actually being noticed Inside her, a fire raged Joyfully she would lay it all down Killing her soul softly Love didn't win Mending broken hearts Never thinking of herself Out of the ashes Placed others needs before her own Quitting the pain Ripping through a past of scars Shutting out others thoughts Unlike all the others Violence would cease Was it all in vain Xyst: something she has always wanted to see, now she can Yellow, blue flowers and many more flowers to see Zymotic is something she felt
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC
Her Life
It was a Saturday night  in the park his trees were singing out of tune his clay pigeons needed to come out of his closet for he was parked on a stool at his favorite watering hole amongst a full house where pairs beat singles and there he was shooting blanks drowning in his sorrows on his nine lives of lowlife hoping for a sitting duck in despair the kind that waddles right up to the Romeo's with suspense in their hearts and spontaneity in their wings a cackle that he can tackle to take home to his garden bed for him to be fed but what he got was for not, naught, knot wistful thinking sitting in a bar sinking for the jukebox played a broken record finding love in the wrong places and the joke squarely was on him for thinking, he could round the bases looking no further than the escape of his glows or a crutch of decoys and sitting ducks for he was no Romeo yet there he was still, like steel, a stole away in society forlorn, preserved like mamas mothballs tucked away in basement storage squandering the forage for there were no triple treats tonight for him or forever sounds grim for his reality check gone dim or no eye candy for his heart beats no picnic for his **** and all the bottled whiskey could not drown out his pain as his eyes were slain as the sitting ducks turned from his fantasy corner phantomlike and though he's sitting at the bar, a loner reminded that in cards of life pairs beat singles and in his worn hand familiarly holds a lonely joker for it's like he tries and its like his sitting ducks are like hoofed deer and his little sweets, are spooked hoofing away from his now darken forest like red ants at his picnic and the gleam in his eyes turned to the poorest its its as if his life and watering hole was condemned his garden bed cut at the stem it is as if he has a red vest on and a rifle don and all the hoofed deer panic looking at him in fear like he's manic or maybe it's his eyes that hold dark skies he orders another double trouble for what else is there to do on his Saturday night than to sit in a bubble forever sounds grim but sing him a sweet hymn he says please to wit as he steals peeks at the bartenders triple treats like a bee to a hive his joker still strikes a beat if only he can find a bolster for his gun needs a holster and a deer in the headlights would be hard to find the confession now told, tolled, towed through tears the guy in the bar window is me, sitting resigned Logan Robertson 10/18/2018
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 6:23 PM UTC
This Sitting Duck Sits Resigned
It was a Saturday night  in the park his trees were singing out of tune his clay pigeons needed to come out of his closet for he was parked on a stool at his favorite watering hole amongst a full house where pairs beat singles and there he was shooting blanks drowning in his sorrows on his nine lives of lowlife hoping for a sitting duck in despair the kind that waddles right up to the Romeo's with suspense in their hearts and spontaneity in their wings a cackle that he can tackle to take home to his garden bed for him to be fed but what he got was for not, naught, knot wistful thinking sitting in a bar sinking for the jukebox played a broken record finding love in the wrong places and the joke squarely was on him for thinking, he could round the bases looking no further than the escape of his glows or a crutch of decoys and sitting ducks for he was no Romeo yet there he was still, like steel, a stole away in society forlorn, preserved like mamas mothballs tucked away in basement storage squandering the forage for there were no triple treats tonight for him or forever sounds grim for his reality check gone dim or no eye candy for his heart beats no picnic for his **** and all the bottled whiskey could not drown out his pain as his eyes were slain as the sitting ducks turned from his fantasy corner phantomlike and though he's sitting at the bar, a loner reminded that in cards of life pairs beat singles and in his worn hand familiarly holds a lonely joker for it's like he tries and its like his sitting ducks are like hoofed deer and his little sweets, are spooked hoofing away from his now darken forest like red ants at his picnic and the gleam in his eyes turned to the poorest its its as if his life and watering hole was condemned his garden bed cut at the stem it is as if he has a red vest on and a rifle don and all the hoofed deer panic looking at him in fear like he's manic or maybe it's his eyes that hold dark skies he orders another double trouble for what else is there to do on his Saturday night than to sit in a bubble forever sounds grim but sing him a sweet hymn he says please to wit as he steals peeks at the bartenders triple treats like a bee to a hive his joker still strikes a beat if only he can find a bolster for his gun needs a holster and a deer in the headlights would be hard to find the confession now told, tolled, towed through tears the guy in the bar window is me, sitting resigned Logan Robertson 10/18/2018
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111
met up with an old friend Goose-Goose says he wants to be an artist born starving, he says he wants to be an artist born starving his hair, bleached bone and bitten-up brows looking like a lead sketch "am i high-brow yet? cause i'm high but not really, know what i mean, mean things. like art, the girl next door,   and life. yeah this this ******** life that i'm all about. to change!" "to change?" "yeah, watch me GO GO GO like a fuckin' MAGIC--" "--marker-lookin *** "oh"
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Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
Goose-Goose
Maraming kainuman Ngunit konti lang sa kanilay yong kaibigan Ikaw nga ay seksi Pero ito namay walang silbi Kung sa pagdating ng gabi Wala ka namang katabi Kasi panandaliang ligaya lang pala ang kanilang habol Sa kakaunting oras ginawa kalang palang pamparaos Kasi katawan mo ay pwede nang e.ulam Pero mukha mo ay parang kinulam Sa kanyang katawan napapasabi sila, "Uy, wow. Ang seksi" Pero pagtingin sa mukha, panay sabi "I'm fine. Thank you" dagdagn pa ng "sorry"
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 6:12 AM UTC
Buhay HIPON(tagalog)
It's a new beginning, A happy new life My dreams have new colours They are more beautiful now My hopes have new strength They are stronger now My mind has new wings Its flight is higher now. Life was sad like a cold winter wind Harsh and dry and blowing hard Dreams were being crushed like withered leaves Had no hope, had no zeal Mind buried under that lonely feel Heart beating on sad symphonic tunes And soul calling those cosmic beings Met them i don't know how, Talking to them i felt alive, A lonely spark into fire, A dreamless man began to aspire, A foment on my wounds And a way out of confound I smiled again At what I had found -The ******
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
A changed life
It was different then, It was pure then, It was kind, sweet, new, romantic, It was good, Peach lotion, Distant trees, Close enough to catch, Cats, dogs, rats, snakes, We were part of the world then, A small part, But we were in it. What do we have now? Nothing but plastic in hand, Put your shoes on, Put your virtual toy away, And, Enjoy the air, While there is air to enjoy.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
The world as I know
Nothing can divide my love and your lies From the time you went on one knee to the promise that we'll forever be love was all I felt now lie is all I see I don't regret for that will diminish the value of moments we lived, loved and shared the little things we built, nourished and cared I still love the love that we had My friends hate you now and call me mad Because neither they nor you will ever understand the love that we had the love that I have
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
I don't regret