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"acquittance" poems
My beautiful Oak stood nobly on its own It embraced my troubled mind and all my deeds condone And when its sickly leaves lay crushed upon the soil They would cushion me in comfort as Id dream there for awhile A chainsaw massacre!!! How can this be? Some dammed blind fool your beauty couldn't see No passion or affection, this man knows His love a plastic piece or chalk repose Things without a life , like this mans heart He looks upon and calls a work of art At his uncultured hands, your acquittance bell did tone To see your life all drained has chilled me to the bone All my innocence and youth has been severed with your mighty root My embittered heart or so it seems has cursed the man that killed my Oak And all my dreams
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Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 4:09 PM UTC
Death of the Oak Tree
~ she paints in well-articulated strokes, in shades that boldly show the seeker, she brushes in the open window the painful colors of the searcher. somewhere in between, she is the doubter and believer; on the edge of learning who and what she is; struggling to chart a course for who and what she will become. she knows at least enough to know her present is not enough, and knows too much to call an ending to her painful search. she is trapped between lament and expectation, between pain and exaltation. she is beautiful but caught on an ugly razor's edge. between the past and the future, present... but so distant on this search to her existence. the if's, the why's behind locked doors, away from all the peering eyes, the adjournment to her journey, her acceptance of acquittance; her debt discharged, the charge expunged; forever free, her best revenge. ~ *post script. for she who came to us with broken wing, who cannot move forward without her own acquittance of her past.*
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
stuck
Again this dusk I shalt abrook, Mind million Thoughts building, None to listen; I'll Hear the echoes Across the ceilings. I'll acknow the t.v Screen, picture Bright pupils dance, Jotting word's of needing cuddling of poetic romance. Giveth me acquittance O' heavenly father, of these late-night ramblings I'd trade for a flower. To Sit next to a fool as I, how tonight is No different from the morrow, affined to the dingy, as a Prisoner confined. ©Brandon nagley © Lonesome poets poetry
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 9:25 PM UTC
Affined to the dingy
You can't see me You've talked to me once But forgot about it My apologies about this order of fashion But I knew my chances were slender I'm not your type You can't see us We are looking forward to this We are the kids with the jackets and blue jeans We try so hard and will never forget You're not our friend but acquittance You are hereby advised to independently leave us alone You hurt us You've hurt me multiple occasions I don't care much anymore You cant see yourself
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
slender
If you are family we have common kin. If you are friend we have common acquittance. Best friend, we have common friends. Stranger, We have nothing in common. So who do I turn to, with troubles in my circles. For none who understand can truly keep my thoughts.
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Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 8:24 AM UTC
Comman kin. 5th of June 2017
Verily, the year would come to a halt, And a voyage of another 365 days shall begin, As it has always been, as nature has always preceeded. With bunch of wishes, I dreamt, With a lot of goals, I strived, With little achieved, I'm not filled with contention but happiness. Several 24 hours filled with mixed reactions, Hours filled with estacy and joy, Days I'm broken with worries. New figures have appeared, Ones, who have enjoined me in friendship, Yet, acquittance that turned sour and never saw the light of companionship. And came Music, whose lyrics and beats blew my mind, Football, whose tension thrilled my soul, Novels, which broadened my comprehension. Whatever 23 has in stock, I'm filled with hope, Hoping my goals shall not be mere dreams, And the dreams shall see the light of success.
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Dec 25, 2022
Dec 25, 2022 at 3:18 PM UTC
2022