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Nov 2019 · 46
What I Wish I Told Him
Emily Nov 2019
I thought it would work.
But the darkness inside,
Took control of my hands,
And built a wall,
That kept you out.

I can take the blame.
I was far away from,
The girl that you deserve.
My voice never worked,
When I was with you.

Honestly I thought,
That you could break those walls,
And save me from myself.
But that’s my fault too,
Because you’re no hero.
A poem that says what I couldn’t
Mar 2019 · 177
Emily Mar 2019
Words are my power.
They give me a tower,
to stand tall on.
Until they were gone.
and I was being choked
with a cord of my cries.
My power did return,
with my joy,
that I earned.
Feb 2019 · 140
Emily Feb 2019
They ignored my cries.
They fell for my disguise.
They think I'm weak,
but they couldn't have been more wrong.
I'm out of mercy.
Their future is bleak,
and it's been too long,
to even compromise.
I will rise.
Feb 2019 · 239
Emily Feb 2019
I want to go to Paris,
but I shouldn’t be so careless.
I think I’ll go to New York City,
But I’ll look like such a pity.
What about Chicago?
I’ll go to wherever the wind will blow.
Or maybe I’ll just stay home.
But then again, I do love Rome.
This is a little fun poem I wrote with my friend.
Feb 2019 · 86
Emily Feb 2019
I've gone numb
The waves might crash,
but they fall 20 miles from shore.
I might hear gun shots,
but they're just echos in my mind.
I want to change
but the sad truth is
I'm numb.
But after all
isn't it just a drop of water in a flood?
Just something I wrote awhile ago.
Feb 2019 · 618
Emily Feb 2019
They danced.
Till pinks and blues joined the moon
and marigolds painted the ground gold.
The night ending far too soon.

The years advanced.
Their bones too old,
to dance the night away.
But the marigolds
in the bouquet
remind them of the good old days.
Feb 2019 · 699
I'm Sorry
Emily Feb 2019
We bring it all to the table,
but I'm unstable.
a ticking time bomb,
till the next meltdown.
A poem to my closest friend.
Jan 2019 · 234
Emily Jan 2019
Maybe I'm happy,
deep down below.
Covered by miles and miles of snow.
But down here it's cold,
and dark,
like night, sixfold.

So, I'm stuck down here
with my fear,
of winter never ending.

But when I'm with you,
and I am mending,
I smile,
a real one for awhile.
And the snow is melting,
my joy, overwhelming.

So, maybe I'll sit in the trees
underneath the summer sun, feeling free
with you. Maybe.

— The End —