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#talented
One step forward ,I can’t go back to what I’m use to .one step forward ,I can’t let it get to me .one step forward ,I’m almost at victory .family and friends I keep them around but family and friends can keep me down. one wrong word I’m back on the ground . I can’t step away cause they always need me now. I’m forgiving I’m not forgetting and it’s making me feel unready . I keep forcing myself to think I can heal you but you’re just not ready . And I knew too. I keep bringing myself down . I can’t go back to what I’m use .
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Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 6:43 AM UTC
I cant run away from my consciousness
You are a SAVAGE!!! You are a BEAST, You got what it takes, Just to say the least. You have creativity, You are top notch, To be so brilliant, You are so on top. Whatever you are doing, please don't stop, They're a lot people out there Wishes they had what you got. You are book smart, and You are very wise, Street smart as well, as to a genius in disguise!!! I don't know what it is, but there's something about your wits, You are a SUPER STAR!!! Yeah, YOU ARE IT!!!! So, always remember: YOU ARE THE FULL PACKAGE, Keep doing what you are doing, BECAUSE YOU ARE A SAVAGE!!!! B.R. Date: 12/12/2025
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Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 10:01 PM UTC
SAVAGE
never knew it, never was I self-percepted, that anything exceptional, lay within, neither obvious or dormant, was just an ordinary if not, extra-ordinary pained child by peers and my surrounders and my own words yet today, do not confer any distinction when yours irradiate me into a stunned and silenced reverie, a reminder, a minder, that talent recognizes no laws of equilibrium, equality, and certainty not, equity so I read with shocked, shocked, I tell you, bemusement but comprehensive perception when the young and extra~special confide, their own misperceptions, overwhelmed by the anxiety of the billions of sky stars, and letters in their twinkling orbs when forming identifiable comets with tagalong dust trails^ of the debris of words that are formed by their travels and travails on orbits not necessarily predetermined by gravitational adult pulleys, a gravity upon their projected, sometimes directed, sometimes not, trajectory *"and yet, though an orbit is a type of trajectory, not all trajectories are orbits"* nor are *"some comets, particularly those from outside our solar system, that move so fast that the Sun's gravity is not strong enough to capture them into a closed orbit* *These comets follow an open, curved path through the solar system and then continue on into interstellar space, never to be seen again*" so be advised, as you reassemble the debris from the multi~universe, when assembling your owned, unique~verse, create your tail and trail, the futurity of you is to be both silent and loud, absorbing and disgorging, to awed and to be humbled, by all that and those who went before, all once younger and talented, and knew this self-same anxiety, but never let the fearing of their the mystery of plotting of their path deter them from exploring the skies and deep mines of the sea trenches where undiscovered mysteries abide <nml> 4:59am in the city where one can never see the light of the stars, particularly by their owners
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Oct 1, 2025
Oct 1, 2025 at 7:25 AM UTC
The Anxiety of the Young and Talented Comets
never knew it, never was I self-percepted, that anything exceptional, lay within, neither obvious or dormant, was just an ordinary if not, extra-ordinary pained child by peers and my surrounders and my own words yet today, do not confer any distinction when yours irradiate me into a stunned and silenced reverie, a reminder, a minder, that talent recognizes no laws of equilibrium, equality, and certainty not, equity so I read with shocked, shocked, I tell you, bemusement but comprehensive perception when the young and extra~special confide, their own misperceptions, overwhelmed by the anxiety of the billions of sky stars, and letters in their twinkling orbs when forming identifiable comets with tagalong dust trails^ of the debris of words that are formed by their travels and travails on orbits not necessarily predetermined by gravitational adult pulleys, a gravity upon their projected, sometimes directed, sometimes not, trajectory *"and yet, though an orbit is a type of trajectory, not all trajectories are orbits"* nor are *"some comets, particularly those from outside our solar system, that move so fast that the Sun's gravity is not strong enough to capture them into a closed orbit* *These comets follow an open, curved path through the solar system and then continue on into interstellar space, never to be seen again*" so be advised, as you reassemble the debris from the multi~universe, when assembling your owned, unique~verse, create your tail and trail, the futurity of you is to be both silent and loud, absorbing and disgorging, to awed and to be humbled, by all that and those who went before, all once younger and talented, and knew this self-same anxiety, but never let the fearing of their the mystery of plotting of their path deter them from exploring the skies and deep mines of the sea trenches where undiscovered mysteries abide <nml> 4:59am in the city where one can never see the light of the stars, particularly by their owners
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67
I Am Different, I am one of a kind, I have a sharp, skilled, and structured kind of mind, Peeps with this gift, is very hard to find, but I'm the only me, and to me, that's just fine. I enjoy what I say, I enjoy what I do, I differ from others and I think that's cool, like my own little kingdom, that I totally rule, like a diamond in a rough, such a beautiful jewel, I have my own style, and I think that's sweet, I enjoy the good feeling, and I feel complete!!!! B.R. Date: 9/15/2025
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 12:06 AM UTC
I Am Different
everytime I'm with other people, I get reminded of how talentless I am- they're all ******* shining stars, while I'm one of those that are glow-less, tucked away in a lil corner. maybe I'm born in the wrong era, maybe I'll be talented in another day. maybe, just maybe, I'm famous in a parallel universe. but they're all 'maybes' isn't it time to give up?
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Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 7:35 AM UTC
maybe
An individual lacking a particular talent but is honest, open-minded, teachable, enthusiastic and adamant has a higher chance at success than a talented person lacking all the other qualities.
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Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 11:21 PM UTC
More than talent
so many unique and talented persons you‘ll think; am i one of them? i don‘t know. but i think there are only two possibilities either there are these rare humans that are born every few years or we are all rare and talented
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:47 PM UTC
rare humans
Perfectly beautiful Imperfectly heartbroken Entirely talented Wasted creativeness Full of potiental Waste of space Utterly and completely perfect.
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Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
You are perfect
(I wrote this light hearted communique years ago when thy youngest of deux darling demure offspring found more enjoyment then she would as a soon tubby celebrating nineteen orbitz round mister Sun). --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just my luck on a freaky Friday, while living in another world unfettered from the parent trap that a life-size machete conveniently available to fend off mean girls racing in their life-size love bug christened “Herbie fully loaded” while cranking up the song “ultimate” somehow found me to get a clue that raven-symone a prairie home companion. Please pardon this bard of Belmont hills for brazenly barging into your life – without even so much as a gold plated invitation. The nerve of this nattering nabob of Narberth to perform a google search in an effort to pay homage to such smart as a whip wealthy woman, whom maintains lustrous beauty even whence approaching the half century longevity chronological benchmark. A whim to scribble stream of consciousness thoughts about the mother of one constantly caught in the infamous cross hairs of media blitz krieg must induce chronic ferocity against this plague of tabloid locusts. Such scrutiny seems to be the price one (and/or her/his kith and/or kin) must unfairly pay to be in the limelight of fame and fortune. As one absolutely anonymous any man ambling along the boulevard of broken dreams, I envy luxurious lifestyle of the rich and famous as all my children (two teenage daughters) freely scamper away from dark shadows indicating the edge of night as the world turns. Also, no great expectation (by dickens) goads me (an ordinary mister mom manning the ongoing – nearly infinite – needs and wants of thy fourteen and twelve year old lasses, whom contribute immensely to a more purposely driven life no matter they present untenable wishes. Back in the day when this papa could afford plethora of fios cable channels, but mainly thru the subtle influence of thine younger offspring (who will celebrate her thirteenth anniversary of existence on this temporal plane or rather oblate spheroid in space), I chanced to watch television programs with Lindsay Lohan as one (if not) the leading actress(es) and found the characters she portrayed quite entertaining to escape the cares and concerns of an uncertain global state of affairs. These days, aol headline pages incessantly splash with minor infraction(s) that inevitably lands your lovely Lindsay incarcerated for mere misdemeanors no doubt stoking the fires of fervid frenzy within your being. Only heartfelt commiseration found me to tap out this missive (while a golden opportunity existed to co-opt our only macbook – while the spouse soundly sleeps and thy progeny preoccupied with interpersonal connections) to express said sentiment of compassion and adulation for a most superlative maternal role well done.
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
LINDSAY LOHAN
(I wrote this light hearted communique years ago when thy youngest of deux darling demure offspring found more enjoyment then she would as a soon tubby celebrating nineteen orbitz round mister Sun). --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just my luck on a freaky Friday, while living in another world unfettered from the parent trap that a life-size machete conveniently available to fend off mean girls racing in their life-size love bug christened “Herbie fully loaded” while cranking up the song “ultimate” somehow found me to get a clue that raven-symone a prairie home companion. Please pardon this bard of Belmont hills for brazenly barging into your life – without even so much as a gold plated invitation. The nerve of this nattering nabob of Narberth to perform a google search in an effort to pay homage to such smart as a whip wealthy woman, whom maintains lustrous beauty even whence approaching the half century longevity chronological benchmark. A whim to scribble stream of consciousness thoughts about the mother of one constantly caught in the infamous cross hairs of media blitz krieg must induce chronic ferocity against this plague of tabloid locusts. Such scrutiny seems to be the price one (and/or her/his kith and/or kin) must unfairly pay to be in the limelight of fame and fortune. As one absolutely anonymous any man ambling along the boulevard of broken dreams, I envy luxurious lifestyle of the rich and famous as all my children (two teenage daughters) freely scamper away from dark shadows indicating the edge of night as the world turns. Also, no great expectation (by dickens) goads me (an ordinary mister mom manning the ongoing – nearly infinite – needs and wants of thy fourteen and twelve year old lasses, whom contribute immensely to a more purposely driven life no matter they present untenable wishes. Back in the day when this papa could afford plethora of fios cable channels, but mainly thru the subtle influence of thine younger offspring (who will celebrate her thirteenth anniversary of existence on this temporal plane or rather oblate spheroid in space), I chanced to watch television programs with Lindsay Lohan as one (if not) the leading actress(es) and found the characters she portrayed quite entertaining to escape the cares and concerns of an uncertain global state of affairs. These days, aol headline pages incessantly splash with minor infraction(s) that inevitably lands your lovely Lindsay incarcerated for mere misdemeanors no doubt stoking the fires of fervid frenzy within your being. Only heartfelt commiseration found me to tap out this missive (while a golden opportunity existed to co-opt our only macbook – while the spouse soundly sleeps and thy progeny preoccupied with interpersonal connections) to express said sentiment of compassion and adulation for a most superlative maternal role well done.
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11
as far as she knew, nobody had cared. x-y-z... straight to the very end. internal self-doubt exemplies itself in her head. traces down her spine, yells until she just can’t take it. (now read straight down the far left column)
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Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 6:27 AM UTC
(dis)orders
I can't tell if you're talented at this Or if I'm just Easy like that Because every move you make Drives me crazier Than the last.
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
Easy Like That
i wish to reveal a most precious thing as Spring has begun my dearest Daddy’s Birthday is done he is not a man of celebrations i want to disclose this personal’s manifest as his blueprint, i am really beatific i am very fortunate to be able to recollect all and everything to be your beloved daughter is one most precious and delightful evidence such a coziest feel to have you in my presence you embody all that is calm and peaceful no other impervious Daddy then you, my handsome sensitive your BirthDay, dearest Daddy is never nebulous the reputations you left us are all fabulous you told me tales, they are in fact realities you are one of a kind, your mind so sublime you constantly cared and loved me, i am your prime i love to tell superlatives about you you deserve the most, dearest Daddy, i am very proud of you, of your humor and your visions your cartoons, drawings, and your fascinating paintings you conjured magic in all your writings C.C. was your weekly talkings Charlie was your weekly walkings in the world of Charlie Chan i am very fond of you, my very talented Daddy i know your world too, owned by you as a stage performer…. i remember everything, every detail hidden in my mind i wish to reveal the most precious thing last night i went to your place, i was wondering you were not there, i started sobbing…. © Sylvia Frances Chan 21st March 2017
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Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
ODE TO DADDY ON HIS BirthDAY
"I know what you're thinking," he says. "That today's just like any other day. That today is just your birthday; that other people are also born on the day you were born. And you're thinking: what is even so special about this day if other people are born too? If other people are much more talented, beautiful and lucky souls, then they deserve so much more than I do." She replies him with a silent smile, waiting for him to construct his words-- to see what he could possible come up with to make this day, at least, brighter than the others. "You know I love you, and I say this to you everyday. But just like any other soul, you are just as talented, beautiful and lucky. And what makes you special is that your existence makes me talented, beautiful and lucky in return. That's what makes you special to me. And I don't think I need a special or certain day to say all of this to you, because you're special in your whole life, from the moment you existed. You don't need a special day-- you have a special life." She nods with a tinge of pride for him as it dusts her cheeks: she is glad she has someone like him who understands her. He finishes, "This is why you're special to me. This is why I love you. And in the least, this day is a little more special that the others."
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Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
Any Other Special Day
Bland Yet talented John Z. Adams Once World Champion By battle royal Always Looked over Due to personality As Time past His greatness noticed Often Looking backwards We discover things
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
John Z. Adams
I'm smart, I tell myself as I fail another exam I'm strong, I whisper as I collapse doing a push up I'm beautiful, I say ******* my waist in as far as I can I'm talented, I murmur as I try to play the piano You're thick, they tell me as I stand and speak before an audience You're weak, they whisper as I dance for three hours straight You're ugly, they say as I shake petals from my flower filled hair You're ******* they murmur as I draw a child with a boat You're smart, I tell her as a brand new scar bleeds profusely You're strong, I whisper as I stick it back together You're beautiful, I say as it fades to white against her skin You're talented, I murmur as she runs off again to play.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Smart, Strong, Beautiful, Talented
She was told, There  is  always  something  special  about  what  people  hold Talented people who are perfect at their job, And they have a talent that no one can rob She  thought  she   too  had  something   precious, Something inside her waiting to be discovered Tried  to   get   it   all  out, But ended up soon Because  she  was  a  moon, Who  needs  sun   to  sparkle  at  night Just like that, she had no light, No  talent  and   no   beauty, Rough and scattered personality She  is  losing  faith  in  herself   day  by   day, Losing every single reason to be gay
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
She Knows Nothing
i do not understand why you only see your flaws when you are so wonderful in my eyes i watch you perform i watch your eyes light up and i see the smile on your face that is rare these days you may think you aren't good enough but if you could only see how wonderful you are how you continue to inspire me and all of us how much envy i hold when i see your talents i wish i had your confidence and the ability to do what you do i hope one day you realize the wonderful things that you do are not just for others but for you
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
wonderful
Beautiful as faith! Beautiful as hope! Beautiful as your parents helping God bring an angel into this world. Beautiful as brother and sister playing. Beautiful as hearing children laughing. Beautiful as warm sunshine though a window, On a cold winter's day. Beautiful as a garden of colorful roses. Beautiful as a rainbow. Beautiful as cotton clouds floating in a blue sky. Beautiful when you look up to heaven with a bright smile. Beautiful as happiness. Beautiful when you play piano song. Your piano song is so beautiful it makes me cry. You are beautiful as... (C) 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
You Are Beautiful
They say women can't fight Can't write good poetry Can't create good paintings Can't play sports Can't work good jobs Or do what a man does I think they're afraid Afraid that women might be better than them or equal in skill Silly sexists The world is changing Changing for the better
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Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Better or Equal
It was then uncovered onto my wee young years, But left out in the cupboard, perhaps out of fears. All in a snap, it opened like Pandora’s Box And spread hope and joy that dispelled strife and hell’s fox. Moving on and out truly have been the best choice For I have now found a reason to use my voice; From quiet, a translucent soul’s metamorphosed, Lo and behold, a phoenix thumps more than supposed. See how the golden voice transformed this mute maiden, A voice that has made her life turned and forgiven; Here now, she sings and strums not for herself no more, She now sings for better things that matter than score. Look at how things change when touched by her gentle song, The rain stops pouring, the bad turns to good along; To think, it wasn’t other people whom she touched, Even she herself, pure to the soul, have been changed. See now, she’ll continue to belt out her good hymn Until her swan song will be last as it seem; But forever will her flight to bring goodness be, So the wind sings with her muses onto the sea.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
A Voice From My Heart