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He walked past skyscrapers and city lights
Passing the school every night.
"I'll still be here," He mumbled into the dusk
While asteroids blazed overhead.
Days followed by
In a solar system, running down.
The more he looked up -
The more he felt like gravity was letting loose
"Someday, somehow, we'll collide."
Forever hoping,
It was who they were.
They were on a collision course.
They say we've got twisted minds
But there's only so much a soul can hide.
I've been in a big Halloween mood lately so here's a little poem for the haunting of the season
All the poems
About the love
About the sorrow
About the broke and hollow
Were all about one
An "I love you" over again
I knew one day it would end
But kept trying to convince myself that it would last.
At two weeks old I was blessed to be healthy, happy, and strong.
Which is actually really sweet.

At eight years old I was baptized fully underwater in a giant tub.
It sounds stranger than it was.

At eight years old I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and given the gift of the Holy Ghost.
But why would the counsel of the Holy Ghost be a gift only given to those in this church?
And why is the name so **** long?

At twelve years old I was moved to different classes separated by gender then brought back together an hour later.
The concept and schedule of a three hour church day is quite strange.

At sixteen years old I could have followed the rule my parents and higher-ups had made to not date until sixteen but only in groups.
At fifteen years old I broke the rule and found a boy to call my own.

At eighteen years old I graduated from seminary, even though I lied.
It helps when we graded ourselves.

At eighteen years old I could have followed the rule my parents and higher-ups had made to be allowed to date without being in a group.
But I broke this rule three years prior.

At twenty-one years old I could have chosen to spend two years away from school, family, friends and serve the church through a mission.
A scary thought to me but a great experience to those who are faithful.

At twenty-one years old I told my parents, “I don’t think I believe.”
**And crazily, they still love me.
I was born into the church and have just put a few experiences here. Just like any church, there are people who believe and people who do not. Please don't take this as a strict, "This is what this church is." That would not be fair.
You're not lost, just because you didn't comb today
I see you here, yet your thoughts are drifting away ...
You rake the leaves, with your bare hands,
You try to see, where your future stands.

You're not lost,  just because you need a break,
I see you smile, while trying to hide your heartache
You collect the dirt, under your fingernails,
As you walk barefoot and cover your trails.

I still see you, underneath the falling leaves,
I hear your voice say "thank you"  and "please"
I see your true smile, glowing in your eyes,
You're the only reason, my soul survives.
When was it in the heart of man to love?
Who planted that first orchid in the fire,
Then nurtured it with lifeblood from above,
Only to watch it wither into brier?

When was it that my eyes beheld your form?
A seed was planted in this fruitful soul.
It blossomed into White Delphinium,
A shared desire, a longing to feel whole.

It was my goal to keep you close to me,
As we lapped water from a passion spring.
Rejoice I did—this caged bird you set free!
But then you left before my voice could sing:

When was it in our hearts to suffer grief?
The truest form of love is, truly, brief.
In sonnet form.
with nothing else
to fill their bellies
the mice went back
to eating poison
and the ants in search of crumbs
came back with nothing
but death on their backs
to feed their queens
and under the light of the stars
we crumbled

the murdering of crows
was made legal
as the color of the doves guilt
was decided to be more pure
than the blood of a dead mans heart

no matter the weight of his innocence

and all this could have been stopped
all this could have been avoided

none of this...

none of it...

had to happen

but we heard the screams of kindness
we heard its cry for help
we saw the hands of cruelty around its neck
we saw the hate foaming
we saw the dreams bleeding out

and we did

nothing

and misery breed
and filled the streets
and slept in our beds
and made its home
under our skin

and not even the light of the stars
was enough for us to remember
what it meant to be human
back before we abandoned joy
in the pursuit of the wealth of greed
 Jan 2019 Will of Alexander
Kawa
“Falling in love” is a contradiction in itself, because in love there is only the rising, the ascending, not the falling.
You can not fall in love, but rather, rise.
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