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 Jul 2021 Arlen
Odd Odyssey Poet
Roses are red, violence is you,
Your love is bitter sweet, but why do I love you?

Your heart is wild, my heart is tame,
I played my heart, but still love this game.

Envy is purple, sadness is blue,
I desire love, but not someone like you.

I stopped breaking hearts,
hated to see those pieces getting lost.
I won't buy myself love,
and definitely don't know the cost.  

So I'll save my time from any ugly love.
 Jul 2021 Arlen
Amanda Kay Burke
I should have seen heartache coming
The moment we said hello
Let you deep inside my heart
In return
You let go
Not fair
 Jul 2021 Arlen
Ciel Noir
Ocean
 Jul 2021 Arlen
Ciel Noir
I dream about
the future
but I'm
only a wave
in an ocean of time

we do not know
the sky but
we are
one island in
an ocean of stars
 Jul 2021 Arlen
Brumous
pas seul
 Jul 2021 Arlen
Brumous
Love can't be the solution for all,
I'm alright dancing alone,
waltzing with echos in the halls

It might be lonely,
but I am enough to keep me company

Stay away from me,
If love would hurt, I'd love myself first
Shut the door; needing it isn't a necessity.

I'll have the red string untied,
free from the boundaries of love
Taking a meaningless joyride,
from dawn to midnight
taking in the world so wide
It's enough having a friend by my side.

-Br.
Pas Seul - /ˌpä ˈsəl/
a dance for one person.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyN6o_Eyfl8
I prefer listening to songs while writing. This song feels calming since I've been blasting loud songs this past few days. I also used this song so that I can write it with a tad melody of some sort.
 Apr 2021 Arlen
Jane Smith
Absurd
 Apr 2021 Arlen
Jane Smith
There is beauty in my pain.
Yes, if you mean,
Those effervescent tears,
Streaking down your flawless cheeks.
If you mean that romanticized,
Clear blood you lie in.

Darling, you were already bewitching.
You were born from the sky,
A divine demonstration of mortal virtue.
There is no beauty in your pain,
There is merely pain amongst your beauty.
 Apr 2021 Arlen
My Dear Poet
a girl kissed a boy
and told him not to tell
he grew up to be a poet
with a promise kept so well
till he wrote one day a poem
that she’s found reading, but forgot
and wondered if it’s really him
and thinking that it’s not
but buried within these pages
and hidden within the rhyme
were words dripping from his lips
caressing every line
so she came in a little closer
and read it to the end
and found him in the poem
and kissed his lips again
Now it’s your turn not to tell
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