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#storyline
To be just a face in somebody’s yearbook, tenderly remembered by some eyes, or maybe.. softly forgotten. To be a passing stranger in the street, Filling the background as if following The imaginary script of someone else’s life. —Coexisting in pages, or between the lines, of multiple, existing storylines— Playing the loyal friend sometimes; The bubbly crush or the terrible villain once or twice. Whatever the role.. ..we end up just lingering. ..craving.. desiring.. that funny, ephemeral feeling. We end up just     lingering,           Yearning,              Daydreaming, to be part of A day, a page. A chapter, a year.
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Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 2:54 PM UTC
Storylines
By my life’s imposing conclusion;- My poetry will all be an additional storyline It’s words remembered; my memory but forgotten Surely the beginning of someone else’s inspiration -Of course, in the middle of their new found saga And by that, I shall be content.
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Jul 11, 2024
Jul 11, 2024 at 9:49 AM UTC
Storyline- an Interlude
This world is moving fast. One thousand miles per hour. Quicker around the sun. Faster around the galaxy, And fastest into the universe. No contraction. Just expansion. We agree, it's infinite in time and space. Is there a nucleus for BOOM? Does time go in only one lateral direction? Was there more than one BANG for the buck? More than one universe? Creation isn't an asterick, Exploding in all directions, Like the rays of a sun. Time may have no beginning, no end. But stories need a beginning, middle and end. My story does. The universe doesn't. No story. Not without a start and an end. Just a middle, with crises, conflicts and looming decisions. This is the illusion.
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Mar 19, 2024
Mar 19, 2024 at 8:00 AM UTC
We Are the Illusion
Legislators of social stigmatization hand out identity before child birth, reluctantly judged by your pigmentation, you're given a name and a pew in a church, assigned to a gender with implications, while ATM balance determines your worth Bugs will certainly inherit the Earth Disguised as your neighborhood privacy invaders, cops kick in the door at your mother's front porch, enforcing law written by legislators for a routine seizure and search Police brutality couldn't mask the depravity of their warrants nomenclature Capitalist crusaders terrorize Americans, but can't keep the bugs from their Earth inheritance Men will shroud their evil nature Malicious intent hides below the glacier Camouflaged vindictive behavior is electing dictators across the equator Truth serenaders lobby for congressional persuaders to pardon these murderous capitalist crusaders, fitting agendas with tailor made suits, who infect Mother Earth deep in her roots Antibiotics couldn't heal or stop this infection these players gave her Pray for fire and fury to burn away worry when bugs surely crawl from the dirt to inherit what's left of our Mother Earth
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May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
Bugs Will Inherit the Earth
i couldn't stop staring as the coffee dripped from her lips she hooked her thumbs under her belt loops, resting her palms on her hips i admired the curls that fell atop her forehead, feeling the glowing sensation as my cheeks burned red her name was sweet, like chocolate on my tongue and the only thing i could compare her to was our everlasting sun -PJM
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 10:42 PM UTC
coffee
Every footstep is a metaphor of our journey. Until our last breath everyone a line of creation. We're sentences always adapting to our changing storyline.
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May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
We Write Our Own Lines
Another day and they say "it's a new begaining" But is it really, it feels more like an ending An ending of time In a life that doesn't rhyme An unending march to the uncertain Like the droping of life's stage curtain Another day closer to the end But I'm still waiting on my life to begin I'm tired of this life's storyline I want a different out come this time I want happy, not sad I want the good, not the bad But there is no off ramp And my disease leaves it stamp I feel like a lost ***** ***** And my life just goes on like a vamp Over and over the same music plays A sorrowful song, for long anguished days But I want a change in the beat An uplifting melody to get me on my feet Will you be my new rhythm An escape from my prison Are you my golden key Will you try to set me free Will you hold me tight When I'm a sad sorry sight There is no cure from my depression But will you help the darkness lessen Or will you run for the hills Or jump in the sea and grow gills Just to get away From a disease you can not sway And leave me counting the days Till this clock like heart's hands stand still And in death will I finally feel real?
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
Feels Like an Ending
"Before the overdose" *Liars and fake friends Im undesirable to only them Tear drops mark the floor like Broken glass, Broken glass mark the scars on my arm Like the friends of the past In the present My brain is wired to the never-ending thought Of why they hide their face behind a stone cold mask Of why the endless thought Makes my heart feel like shattered glass Till this day I'm popping pills, Making sure no friends will ever come my path Till this day I walk lonely marking the path to God Swallowing down all these pills making it my last These pills already swallowed down will **** me fast*
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 5:25 AM UTC
Holding On "Chapter 2"
Remember, being young, you used to love those posters We’d look at them for hours, got addicted to the game Of trying to be the one, who found the most new details We searched for all the features that none had seen before And every next disclosure would shed a whole new light On the storyline we thought had nothing new in store Where along the way did you lose your sense of wonder? What was it that blinded the eye for detail that you had? Was it time that rusted your fixation on what’s known yet Was it life that happened and robbed your curious mind? ‘Cause though still friends forever, the magic slowly faded The picture got familiar as if holding no more surprise Now just take a moment and imagine that we’re standing Looking at that poster that you still know by heart The one that tells the story of two best friends forever And spells their lives out since the time that they were young All the ties that bind them, the obstacles along the road All the precious moments that gave colour to their lives Imagine that this picture, etched inside you memory Holds one little detail that you've never seen before Would its revelation bring back your imagination And hold the hidden power to change the story line? Would the boy hidden inside accept the great adventure That a few small brush strokes invite him to pursue? This time, let me tell you the thing that you’ve been missing The detail that’s been overlooked in all the years gone by The painter of this story line that sketched our lives together Signed this valued work of art with the truest signature If you’d open up your eyes and see the artist’s message You’d read there in my handwriting “please let me be yours”
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
Signature
Remember, being young, you used to love those posters We’d look at them for hours, got addicted to the game Of trying to be the one, who found the most new details We searched for all the features that none had seen before And every next disclosure would shed a whole new light On the storyline we thought had nothing new in store Where along the way did you lose your sense of wonder? What was it that blinded the eye for detail that you had? Was it time that rusted your fixation on what’s known yet Was it life that happened and robbed your curious mind? ‘Cause though still friends forever, the magic slowly faded The picture got familiar as if holding no more surprise Now just take a moment and imagine that we’re standing Looking at that poster that you still know by heart The one that tells the story of two best friends forever And spells their lives out since the time that they were young All the ties that bind them, the obstacles along the road All the precious moments that gave colour to their lives Imagine that this picture, etched inside you memory Holds one little detail that you've never seen before Would its revelation bring back your imagination And hold the hidden power to change the story line? Would the boy hidden inside accept the great adventure That a few small brush strokes invite him to pursue? This time, let me tell you the thing that you’ve been missing The detail that’s been overlooked in all the years gone by The painter of this story line that sketched our lives together Signed this valued work of art with the truest signature If you’d open up your eyes and see the artist’s message You’d read there in my handwriting “please let me be yours”
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