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jonni inferno Mar 2017
waited
for your calle todaye
when it did not come
i kurst'
this cold and
krewel daye

oft played
are the games
of love and lyfe
skillfullye laide
are the snares
and traps
we playe the hunter
we are the baite
be it known to alle
we are the prey

and i
knowinge the price
of painfulle lessons learned
forsooke that knowledge
which thru livinge
alle mustte earne
and thought
to safely
lure you in
withe
mine open hearte

yes
i kurse
this bryghte and sunnye daye
shoulde not the skye
be fulle of kloudse an' fey ?

'twoulde match my moode...

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Pic Poem
http://oi65.tinypic.com/dq2i48.jpg
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added link to the pic/poem
Daniela gitto Nov 2013
I am just going to lye on my grass and allow the bugs to do what they want
Because as soon as I bask in my freedom, lying on that glistening green grass
Here comes the bugs getting ready for their attack
As soon as I flick one off, another comes
And as hard as I fight, the bugs are the ones who have won
Not because the quantity is too much for me to take
But because I let them get to me and over exaggerate
Realistically the bugs aren't going to eat me alive
It's the way you perceive these bugs, so you let them eat at your mind
And the more you allow it to happen, the more bugs will return
And will soon become a habit to much to overturn
but how am i suppose to free myself of becoming bug baite
Or convince myself that I am not everything I hate
I cant, and ive come to the conclusion I never will
Because as soon as I plan my picnik, I notice the ants making their way up the hill
I enjoy metaphors
Bugs meaning my pessimistic thoughts
I am just going to lye on my grass and allow the bees to do what they want
Because as soon as I bask in my freedom, lying on that glistening green grass
Here comes the bees getting ready for their attack
As soon as I flick one off, another comes
And as hard as I fight, the bees are the ones who have won
Not because the quantity is too much for me to take
But because I let them get to me and over exaggerate
Realistically the bees aren't going to eat me alive
It's the way you perceive these bees, so you let them eat your mind
And the more you allow it to happen, the more bees will return
And will soon become a habit to much to overturn
but how am I suppose to free myself of becoming bee baite
I can't, and I've come to the conclusion I never will
Because as soon as I plan my picnic, I notice the ants making their way up the hill.
It's a metaphor. Bees are a metaphor for pessimistic thoughts.

— The End —