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"amendable" poems
My chin rests on the dent of my palm, I am hopefully staring into space where the blur of the white wall that is before me becomes an empty palette for me to draw on to paint a map of the future, of the roads and paths and routes untidily scribbled on the blank canvas plotting my dreams with sketchy untidy thoughts with blurred out edges of a vision full of innocence and lack of experience but making the raw marks easily amendable leaving room for mature modifications as my dreams ripen I am dreaming of days that will come, Dreaming of ways that will let me become But our dreams are like clouds, They are made in the air They keep floating with time Further from us To distant places where they will be lost And we will be left staring at an empty sky Not knowing in which direction to go. If we sit idle, Lying in the grass, staring away expecting the cloud to descend one day We are mistaken because dreams are meant to live in the skies high up above which is why we strive and achieve for higher ground because if they were as prevalent as the flowers on the verdant grass anyone could pluck it without any stress but like clouds our dreams travel with time mature with wisdom and age the further they blow away They become faint distant memories so don’t just sit and stare and always be aware gather pieces from your life, and create a platform pieces of experience that will stack up to create a stairway bringing you closer to help you attain your cloud shaped dream and when you are near, hold it close, nurture it and help it grow and never let it go
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Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Dreamy Sky
My chin rests on the dent of my palm, I am hopefully staring into space where the blur of the white wall that is before me becomes an empty palette for me to draw on to paint a map of the future, of the roads and paths and routes untidily scribbled on the blank canvas plotting my dreams with sketchy untidy thoughts with blurred out edges of a vision full of innocence and lack of experience but making the raw marks easily amendable leaving room for mature modifications as my dreams ripen I am dreaming of days that will come, Dreaming of ways that will let me become But our dreams are like clouds, They are made in the air They keep floating with time Further from us To distant places where they will be lost And we will be left staring at an empty sky Not knowing in which direction to go. If we sit idle, Lying in the grass, staring away expecting the cloud to descend one day We are mistaken because dreams are meant to live in the skies high up above which is why we strive and achieve for higher ground because if they were as prevalent as the flowers on the verdant grass anyone could pluck it without any stress but like clouds our dreams travel with time mature with wisdom and age the further they blow away They become faint distant memories so don’t just sit and stare and always be aware gather pieces from your life, and create a platform pieces of experience that will stack up to create a stairway bringing you closer to help you attain your cloud shaped dream and when you are near, hold it close, nurture it and help it grow and never let it go
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Exchanging messages every now and then, Though gadgets are prohibited in your domain. A Cheshire Cat smile unconsciously plastered As I could see your exertion pretty mastered. I know that there is something, The way you care feels like I'm your everything Or maybe I am just assuming But not to assume is the hardest thing. Oh~ How I wish I could be your girl, For I know you'll be treating me like a pearl. My feelings everyday would be ineffable, For your patience makes every mistake amendable. Yet to think of you with another girl, Would cause my vision to blur. Part of me wants to spend time with you to make memories for us two, While another part of me says not to expect too much from you. People keep asking our label, All I did was portray an expression in glee In fact, I don't know, Even if you are sending me a clue. So I came up with a conclusion, Neither single nor In a relationship is my definition. I hope everything will unfold, But for now my status is On Hold.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 4:55 AM UTC
Status: On hold
**What is fear? Its panic, terror, scare, horror, dread and phobia and many others. Some have fear of Heights,Some have of Ghost Some are scared of dark and some of death Some are scared of test and some of not being the best. People say to face your fear and make it go away Tackle it down stand your ground don't turn around because your afraid it will scare you to death. Its not the fear of the these things but the fear is the fear itself, fear of being afraid. My biggest fear is to fall in love. But is it really scare of being in love? Is it really terror of letting your walls down and letting someone in your heart? No not really Then what is it? I finally realize its the Fear of getting hurt, trusting someone with all your heart. Fear of giving your heart to someone cause its not amendable. Cause you cant take it back. So yeah my biggest fear is to fall in love with someone.
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
Fear
Hmm August 15, 2012 How does one co-exist? With peers or like-minded individuals? These relationships can be examined and statements regarding be made. However, co-existing with one's own entity is another story. Even in a stable environment, emotions will unavoidably be unstable. So, how do you pull yourself, and your goals, apart from the seemingly trivial? Those limited instances, which many claim comprise you, also may not define you, or perhaps not properly, or entirely... giving off to others, the wrong interpretation of who you are; a second, potentially fake version of you The emotional side, which only appears in limited instances, due to certain events. So, in an all-encompassing scope, which piece of your puzzle are your emotions? Are they interchangeable, do they cause other pieces to be created, or do they stem from an original root? Your true identity deep down inside is amendable, due to this other you - the emotional side. Now tell me, how do you co-exist with yourself?
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
Hmm
My canvas, my art My pottery to mould My statue to sculpt My treasure to hold Inspiration is welcome Appreciation offered in return Glad to make a jewelled vase of this urn No idea is enough The shapes seem all wrong The paint too dull The song too long My craft is no longer mine From whence came this technique? This form, this approach, won't produce what I seek Passionless correction grasps my hand Once again I remove the sheet from the stand Once again I place the brush in my hand Once again I kneel before the furnace to plunge my mess-in-a-pan Into the blaze which will return me near to the beginning But not quite at the start The canvas, now devoid of heart; Of soul All mind but None mine Tattered and torn; But still amendable with time… And still, this is my canvas And yet still, this is my art A reflection of me; of what's in my heart Who I am; Who I want to be I will design what I want to see No. I won't put your favourite colour Of course, I won't include your favourite quote (With all due respect, Shakespeare is an excellent writer but he won't   fit    here!) With all due respect, things must change now and it will be done without a vote. This is now. -A.M.E.N.
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
This is now
in at least 50 words, what is a database? i guess a repository of information that's indexed and accessible easily sortable, amendable and movable supports atomicity, durability and something else that starts with an i and has lots of data lots of data some more data and then a bit more data and even more data loads of it there. why do we make things so complicated?
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
data
When I had a doubt I had a name to shout, Good or bad talks I just wanted to share You might Break my trust but I didn’t care, We supported each other when we were weak We unlock smiles when our eyes tap got leak, My friend whose daily talks got addictive, For you, I became so predictive, One day suddenly you disappear, I cried for days and rolls out my tears It would be better if Memories are amendable, It would be better if I was less dependable, Still My hope makes me to wait you will call me, may be a little late.
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Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
My Missing Friend