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"carat" poems
We know you, and your little dark colors too. A picture book in your purse penned in mustaches on the full faces of your fare. We call you from bed, 8 o' clock in the morning, dog-light you slow wander the Peruvian darkness making jellyfish tentacles with your hands while you feel your way through Salem. We're colder than night and we wake thrice the bits of your day gig. You collapse in a green field of dandelion where thrushes drown you in Brown. We gorge ourselves on mango slivers, pineapple yolks, a half of grapefruit. We know you are close to your end. On the tops of the cities you call to your lycan friends, the half-sick and muted bray allures them to you, from Bratislava and Mimon, the thoroughfare through the suq. We wait. The foregone untold, the beep beep jug jug swoop sound of the nightingale, in all her dun glory, we wait. Then, as if descending through the moor-lounging silver smoke, the cool stickiness to your fingertips; the fog. We are there when the blue-less and smoky screen surrounds you, when you shank the auburn Scot hair of the sly fox that stalks, say, a cigarette from your lips. When you take the corners swiftly, gadding the streets. The prize king of vulpicide. You rub its matte fur against your bristly gray beard. And while you lay in your lumps of twelve carat flesh you bleat and you nag. One day you will never come home.
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
Johnny 3:16
* The fume A thick dark fumy cloud Dormant it lies, but often loud Precariously overhead, it flowed The sunshine of the life, it swallowed It rained, challenged by the mighty peak In the heart, It pained, to see it weak The cloud was small but heavy However dusty and floaty. The doom and gloom Embracing in its shadow In desert, plains and meadow Eclipsing the days, sunny bright Dreadful, with the darkening night With me, always  hanging around When noticed, nearby it's found Haunting me with a sadness Flaunting its darkness A lot in the cloud explored Then consciously, It was ignored But dancing at the back of the mind Past  hurts and  pains, it  put to rewind The boom and bloom And then, letting it flow across, I got immersed, In fine tiny droplets, the cloud dispersed, Now each droplet addressed separately Was dried in the shiny sun completely All of the cloud, dripped to evaporate Condensed eventually, as distillate My pains, by that elixir, cured, Alchemised me into 24 carat gold *
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Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
The cloud alchemy...24 carat gold
palace of lights caved blooms through the body like reality pitted against a comic book not knowing where life came from not knowing how it will end food tubes or road **** is creation substance-less? 24 carat nonsense, or pure wisdom? perhaps bad therapy for lab animals and store front dummies monkeys shudder at needles unless candied with a heroine syringe chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria pleasure before despair and than a sea of pain and a **** impaling her the lushly contoured female a frictionless exchange of power for ******* ecstatic death as her eyes bob and flutter like cascading echo's my birth tarot card **** of swords her favorite when I push through her like blood bubble gum b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit guttural diphthong like a vipers castanets uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb her **** a zoo c u n t z o o i am peanuts worms and hay her face a mask to hide behind breath play sibilant **** specter or nightmares shadows and villains aphrodiac gagged and drugged hot ***** bound a big eyed **** s l u t l o v e *** cannibals turn me on her ****** a goddess a Russian roulette for shtttty kisses sploosh she shot me cuckoo spit k o cuck  k o  k o o twizzles willie milk in a drowning moss draped moon orifice under a shattered zodiac wrapped in tentacles of night she turns me on
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
She Turns Me On...Cunt Zoo Manga
my dream is to go on a long ride with my bestie before we become bride my dream is to forever cherish her smile even when she is walking alone in the aisle my dream is to never let my bestie forget me for that i can pay any fee my dream is to keep your hand along and walk miles and miles even sometimes rolling and chilling in the aisles my dream is to stay in your heart till we have to again put our life into the mode of restart my dream is to be your best friend even if many others join you in your life my dream is to be the reason behind your 24 carat smile my dream is to get 100% from your side even if we stay far apart my dream is not just a fantasy my bestie would definitely make it a reality
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
My dream...... With my bestie
*I look up to pastel blue skies that fade into pink clouds I look to what becomes a clear black night a full moon in the sky stars alight like a four carat ring a canary diamond so bright catching all the light from the stars that surround this Northern star I picture your face the ring on your left finger your smile my saving grace my only comfort knowing that as much as I miss you we both look to the same sky clinging to your smiles the feel of your embrace as we make love through the night my nails are chipped again bitten through anxiety wrapped in the same cashmere swamped in your scent I smile.* © Sia Jane I am always so so inspired by the beauty of the sun setting outside my bedroom widow & as the sun is hidden, I sit on the ledge & a dark night, that is lit by stars, fills my whole room, & I smile, I remember.
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
I still remember the sound of your voice at night
You are bold the inspiring queen of Fs and As and I a crafty lizard this christmas mug from which you drink these scissors with which I shred words our stories all come together on top of a golden rose 24 carat sampled with my teeth secured in my bedroom all of it is yours and the last coin evens my luck
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
Untitled
Taste the sunlight Wrap up in the golden thread The 40 carat golden thread That leaks like honey on your head Feel the sunlight Open up to gamma streams The seeds of life in gamma streams That donate such vivacious dreams Be the sunlight Buoy the dust motes with your smile The guileless, butter-melting smile Illuminating clouds a while And linger amber in the light.
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Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 8:19 AM UTC
Bask
I took this job down at the Corinth Mint after my marriage went on the skids, I was bored at home on the DPB* and I was sick of those two **** kids. Jace shot through with this ***** called Glauce, her name brings to mind an eye disease, and her old man wants us out of Corinth even though I got down on my knees. I feel like the serpent who was Golden Fleeced when Jason slipped the snake oil past it, but, since I've been working at the Mint, I can spot a twenty-four carat *******
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
MEDEA CLOCKS ON AT THE MINT
From glistening streamlet stones the sparkling sun life river ripples with ephemeral gems, priceless, richer than diamonds. Unavailable to the banker's vault. Unmeasurable by the carat. Free to anyone who cares to look. Frames memories of lovers' smiles.
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Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
Ephemera
The castle went into chaos The queen ran amok in the chamber A coronation day parade and she had just lost her tiara All the maids were ordered to search on the bed, under the silky bed sheet, in the closet, everywhere.... but failed to locate the missing tiara.. oh where did it go? this priceless tiara? Running late... for the parade The King barged in with the wizard... This time to locate the status of the tiara A cast of a spell that worked The work of evil was succesful! The magic ball in the wizard's hand a face of a wicked witch who cunningly disguised as a raven who came by at the queen's chamber that morning... and it flew away.. away... with the precious 12 carat diamond coated tiara just when everybody was busy tightening the queen's corset , the raven witch snatched an advantage Poor Queen .... incomplete without her tiara but the parade went on....
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 12:21 AM UTC
The missing tiara
What I like about diamonds are their splinters, the thorns of the rose you picked up in winter.
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 6:38 PM UTC
24 carat
Her Diamond Mind Rests in Pure Carbon Mine Shining Fluorescence Never left her with obsolescence Light refraction Quite the distraction Ice rink on her finger A monetary stinger Gem best friend How much did he spend? Frozen Pond reflection of the hardest affection Ice rock speaks to only her Don't be a gem amateur Clear crystal quartz won't do Sir with its dim blurr Follow the four C's Scintillation gleams Cut determines its prism At first sight brings hypnotism Color - a rainbow brilliance Smiles with each glance More clarity for radiance All eyes may be romanced Be prepared for a trance Carat weight Might be the bait Year after year Continual glimmer With every light flicker
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Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
Diamond Mind
My precious You become a beauty Only when you languorously Hug the waists of damsels as cincture Countless are the times, earlobes or ankles Unadorned by you Inflamed me A plain a yellow thread has ousted you nowadays When you swing from an ear, It is indeed fascinating to watch You have even usurped my sleep As a nose-ring, through its keen glitter Costume jewellery has replaced you too, many times Still, my precious, It is when you are pawned That you become real ‘gold ‘ Like the revolutionary Who become more so By getting hanged Like a soldier Who become more of a soldier By getting shot at the border My precious, my precious My precious pledged gold.
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
A 22 carat poem on gold
tv tucked-in to premature sleep, t'is elementary that I I awaken midnightish, mission most unusual sherlocked~unaccomplished, to disembark from the day's shellacking glancing out the window, many of the yellow lit windows decorating (not littering) my cityscape, precisely the color of the tastefully ostentatious but breath taking canary yellow diamond five carat ring I will never buy you, that shall be the ring, always, She-Lacked not because I can't not because it is impossible tho most extra frivolous ridiculous ice cream scoop upright~downright double silly, buuuuuut because certain things in life off course, and are truly better for just the wanting than the having. but not you, of course. Of course!
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
Canary Yellow Diamond
~inspired by Lar Lubovitch, gifted to Glenn Currier   who made my eyes water-dance this morning ~ <> raise the arms in preparation for an articulated genteel waving to keyboard, an elegant slow descent, fingers extending, splaying, but in fine coordinated curvature for they are 24 carat gold filled fingertips, word & dance-art~infused i king and expelling sounds of dancing words, all over my body some body part of me, grasps that the cylinder of ink, becomes a baton, single instrument director, an attaché, an additive~lubricant, for all my orifices, firing rocket-in-the-air bomb bursts while body in its entirety motions, shuckin’ and jivin’ in the prayer~poem first position, a rock n’ roll motion, back and forth, to fro, holy mesmerized words run down my arms, letters drop encased in salt drop capsules, from the intuition in my eyes, we see them forming words, pooling, without volition, upon, all my surfaces, but they a mere conveyance, bringing these expulsive explosive verbs in an ordered fashion, to your eyes, intuitively, asking you to dance with me, begging you to envision me, hearing the piano maintaining rhythm, while a violin crys out in a overly long held notes, concertinas  bellowing, all together quavering, oscillating, emoting, and you! you are reading me perfectly so we dance in unity cheek to cheek, to the song of our poem, our words, our tongues, our entire entities, rogue kissing
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Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 8:52 AM UTC
dance to these words
It's beautiful, the sun rising. It's beautiful, the sun setting. For how it coloured the sky, into a combination, of rose quartz and serenity. For every time, the colour changed. It's beautiful, how I thought of them. For every time, I stare at the pantone sky, and paint colour in my eyes, ㅡ I know, they felt the same.
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
Happy Carat Day
To have sweet honey dew, To have soft recollections in quiet vibrations of air, To have an unmistakable fortress of solitude, The precious quality of four carat diamond, Encapsulating the fragile soul of a gentleman, What I must be to encounter such a gem. What a gem I must be... With a grinding stone, my weapons sharpen By letting my lips cut the air to pieces 'till they bleed, I've learned to soften the blow Spring waters bring forth a fountain of youth much sweeter than honey dew. I recognize, It takes a diamond to know one. So I take this journey to become four carat, For the diamond man I'm looking for. To be his diamond lady.
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Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 10:57 AM UTC
Four Carat Diamond
Manifest your destiny Make a wish, I'll take your memory There is no law, I'm just your genie Planting twisted seeds, to your head from my beak I gave you mirrors, you made the ripples I gave you pillows, you shunned the simple And if you rip the feathers out, and shed your skin like I did I'd bet you seven rainbows, I'd still get in your head If you want me, you know where to find me Crowing by the weathervane, or oozing down the chimney Old man tree, here's a cigar for your tragedy If you need me, I'll be in the clear, busy counting Six for a second, *** for a minute Six for a minute, *** for an hour Six for an hour, *** for the weekend Twenty-four carat-gold stars My original idea Became your original sin Became your aboriginal idea I laugh at the mess you're in
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Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 6:00 PM UTC
666 (What Are You)
Though mine eyes do the beholding In probing, scanning and reviewing: Measuring quantity against quality; And though the scales of mine eyes Unsteady are, altering like weather, As my sight's balances beauty rank By the ratio of its carat to dross, Which are counterpoising each other Like Michael and Lucifer--the frank And the false; yet put I the manipulation, The entire enterprise of my intention Upon my heart. For though these eyes Fairness understand but are unwise Still to fathom the depth of love On those twain pans of duplicity. The beckoning ***** to the heart Must thus tilt the weight in reckoning Affection that the lop-sided lips wooing A gold precious of a great rate, That bears the hallmark of a prized proof, May win no bauble nor feigned fancy.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
Balance of Reason
Manifest your destiny Make a wish, I'll take your memory There is no law, I'm just your genie Planting twisted seeds, to your head from my beak I gave you mirrors, you made the ripples I gave you pillows, you shunned the simple And if you rip the feathers out, and shed your skin like I did I'd bet you seven rainbows, I'd still get in your head If you want me, you know where to find me Crowing by the weathervane, or oozing down the chimney Old man tree, here's a cigar for your tragedy If you need me, I'll be in the clear, busy counting Six for a second, *** for a minute Six for a minute, *** for an hour Six for an hour, *** for the weekend Twenty-four carat-gold stars My original idea Became your original sin Became your aboriginal idea I laugh at the mess you're in
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Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
666 (What Are You)
*Drive a Porsche Nine- Eleven, Wear the Gucci Horse-bit gold ? Take you back to Seventh Heaven ? Style locked in Gimlet mould. Oyster Bay’s crisp apple bite Quaffed in slender crystal flute, Cartier peeps from the cuff Of silken shirt in peerless suit. Bircher bowls of oaten crepes At Harbour-side in golden dusk, A prelude to a moonlit cruise With chiffoned girl in **** musk. Pink mansion perched at high cliff edge Standing over Half Moon Bay Where poker’s stratospheric stakes Depicts that only Players play. Cash cascades with no restraint For gleaming ninety carat stone, Adorning ladies on your arm Who just, will not leave you alone. You wear your Porsche Nine- Eleven, Drive your Gucci Horse-bit gold, Wrap yourself in Seventh Heaven.... Consumated Gimlet hold.* M. Sky Tower Casino Auckland 1 November 2014
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Style
summer incisions on a crystalline day (it sorrows me to end a poem this way) every leaf, every tree, edged silhouetted sharp against the pale blue cadet uniform color of a portrait background framing sky, this museum piece painting, unsigned, unguarded, uninsured, yet, surely the worlds most valuable the sun's early morn golden glint reflection, somehow pools in the palm of the each chlorophyll green flat goblet, this necklace of carat gold cavatine melodies gets me happy drunk on an aurora of the green n' blue seasonal summer's glories, upon the skin-stamped a caramel hallmark, what we wait for all year long, all the earth's colors crystalline pure, my senses say it's as it was on the first day of creation this is not the first day of summer 2014, yet, it should be so remarked, for summer visions so perfect crystalline are summer incisions, allowing entry of interferon hopes of we irregular, imperfected assorted human shapes, the marvel of a free-for-all serenity, nature's sweet permanent kindness to wayfaring temporal humans corporeal that I am, my being flooded by all of this and a grateful satisfaction, but my mind knows that as real as all this, is as well, the not well, the ashen pallor inside, the burnt tongue words that circulate in my bloodstream, the status of my reality, where my job, survival, is a Monday day to one day thing, and where the luxury of being summer incised is a sometime thing *and it sorrows me to end this poem this way but I come from another place this day* and the computer asks save this poem? and I answer, no, save me, save my family, even if it must rain every day for the rest of my sunsetting life *and it sorrows me to end this poem this way but I come from another place this day*
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
summer incisions on a crystalline day (it sorrows me to end a poem this way)
summer incisions on a crystalline day (it sorrows me to end a poem this way) every leaf, every tree, edged silhouetted sharp against the pale blue cadet uniform color of a portrait background framing sky, this museum piece painting, unsigned, unguarded, uninsured, yet, surely the worlds most valuable the sun's early morn golden glint reflection, somehow pools in the palm of the each chlorophyll green flat goblet, this necklace of carat gold cavatine melodies gets me happy drunk on an aurora of the green n' blue seasonal summer's glories, upon the skin-stamped a caramel hallmark, what we wait for all year long, all the earth's colors crystalline pure, my senses say it's as it was on the first day of creation this is not the first day of summer 2014, yet, it should be so remarked, for summer visions so perfect crystalline are summer incisions, allowing entry of interferon hopes of we irregular, imperfected assorted human shapes, the marvel of a free-for-all serenity, nature's sweet permanent kindness to wayfaring temporal humans corporeal that I am, my being flooded by all of this and a grateful satisfaction, but my mind knows that as real as all this, is as well, the not well, the ashen pallor inside, the burnt tongue words that circulate in my bloodstream, the status of my reality, where my job, survival, is a Monday day to one day thing, and where the luxury of being summer incised is a sometime thing *and it sorrows me to end this poem this way but I come from another place this day* and the computer asks save this poem? and I answer, no, save me, save my family, even if it must rain every day for the rest of my sunsetting life *and it sorrows me to end this poem this way but I come from another place this day*
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48
our love was dipped in luxury and you were made of gold i always liked pretty shiny things until they got old golden eyes, 2am nights made loving you seem worth it but secrets, lies, and unresolved fights made loving you a burden they could have hung us in the louvre had we stayed in gold forever but we were only carat plated and nickel at our center
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Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 3:20 AM UTC
lux
You may record me in your over-edited, excerpts. What men claim as their story. Salty, bitter history, versus jaystory. Throw my revolution in the sand. But still, like the dust on your mantle, I am lifted. Even deceased I can stand. Does my challenge anger you? Are you overwhelmed with a match? My words can open cans of worms Your little politician promising can't patch Up, or be swept under that with a broom I will haunt you with my revolutions Like I'm zeus in his own living room. Like the endless universe to our moon. To the fall of capitalism soon To the 24 frames a second on networks of cartoons Or those stuck in the trip of two caps of a shroom Stay in tune Like your high school's marching band However I have to I'll find ways to stand I know someone would rather see me broken, crippled, legless, without feet. A head hung low and eyes even lower so Shoulders challenging one one another to how much closer to the ground one can go. Does my attitude offend you? Don't take my strength too too hard I'll laugh like I've got El Dorado Underneath my back yard. You may shoot me with your thoughts Your words, throwing heat from steamed pots But me with your eyes, thinking it may do a lot You may **** me with your hateful energy, maybe you can But whatever state the world leaves me in I will continue to stand. Does my appeal make you angry? It frequently comes as a surprise I dance as if 50 carat diamonds lie between my two thighs My history might have shame, lost in brutal command But that's then, this is now, so regardless I stand I'm an endless waterfall, unmeasurable in feet The fact I can't hear myself is also funny to me. Since water is a sound that my ears cannot reach. But at least by my wonder to some I can teach. That there is nothing you cannot withstand. So with my my revolutionaries Together. We stand. I stand. To dawn and then back. I stand. Regardless of your wrath. I stand. I am the dream, and in hopes, the hope of the change. I stand and I'll stand. Till a new story's engraved. I stand. To when history is just a story. Not belonging to a man. vi.xx.xii
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 6:45 AM UTC
Ode to Maya
You may record me in your over-edited, excerpts. What men claim as their story. Salty, bitter history, versus jaystory. Throw my revolution in the sand. But still, like the dust on your mantle, I am lifted. Even deceased I can stand. Does my challenge anger you? Are you overwhelmed with a match? My words can open cans of worms Your little politician promising can't patch Up, or be swept under that with a broom I will haunt you with my revolutions Like I'm zeus in his own living room. Like the endless universe to our moon. To the fall of capitalism soon To the 24 frames a second on networks of cartoons Or those stuck in the trip of two caps of a shroom Stay in tune Like your high school's marching band However I have to I'll find ways to stand I know someone would rather see me broken, crippled, legless, without feet. A head hung low and eyes even lower so Shoulders challenging one one another to how much closer to the ground one can go. Does my attitude offend you? Don't take my strength too too hard I'll laugh like I've got El Dorado Underneath my back yard. You may shoot me with your thoughts Your words, throwing heat from steamed pots But me with your eyes, thinking it may do a lot You may **** me with your hateful energy, maybe you can But whatever state the world leaves me in I will continue to stand. Does my appeal make you angry? It frequently comes as a surprise I dance as if 50 carat diamonds lie between my two thighs My history might have shame, lost in brutal command But that's then, this is now, so regardless I stand I'm an endless waterfall, unmeasurable in feet The fact I can't hear myself is also funny to me. Since water is a sound that my ears cannot reach. But at least by my wonder to some I can teach. That there is nothing you cannot withstand. So with my my revolutionaries Together. We stand. I stand. To dawn and then back. I stand. Regardless of your wrath. I stand. I am the dream, and in hopes, the hope of the change. I stand and I'll stand. Till a new story's engraved. I stand. To when history is just a story. Not belonging to a man. vi.xx.xii
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56
Once upon a time You found joy in simple things It was a jar of baby carrots Now it's two carat diamond rings Once upon a time Every ounce of you was hope You always prepared for the best Now you prepare yourself to cope Once upon a time That smile didn't leave your face Now when you feel it on your lips You press it down until it's straight Childhood you Was a bit naive But now that you're grown up You've lost the courage to believe It's easy to be cynical Bad things are all over, after all We're all business, things hardly impress us But maybe that's our downfall So think like you did once upon a time And don't worry about being understood Look around, lift your eyes off the ground And find joy in anything good Go ahead and stay hopeful Being let down sometimes Is better than being hopeless And staying down at all times Childhood you Was a bit naive Or perhaps more in-tune With what happiness means
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 5:29 PM UTC
Childhood You