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"daunting" poems
All in green went my love riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the merry deer ran before. Fleeter be they than dappled dreams the swift sweet deer the red rare deer. Horn at hip went my love riding riding the echo down into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the level meadows ran before. Softer be they than slippered sleep the lean lithe deer the fleet flown deer. Four fleet does at a gold valley the famished arrows sang before. Bow at belt went my love riding riding the mountain down into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling the sheer peaks ran before. Paler be they than daunting death the sleek slim deer the tall tense deer. Four tall stags at a green mountain the lucky hunter sang before. All in green went my love riding on a great horse of gold into the silver dawn. four lean hounds crouched low and smiling my heart fell dead before.
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All In Green My Love Went Riding
The beach smells of tranquillity and salty sea air The rhythm of the waves gently caresses my skin The horizon seems elusive, a dream always chased Yet night foreshadows traumas waiting to be let in Oh where do I begin? *I love you I don't wanna be scared of you I'm waiting in the shoreline Please don't run away this time* I'm scared of silent reflections, solemn and reclusive I float futher from myself with each passing day I have a note addressed to myself taped to a mirror I'm scared of reading it aloud and being lead astray And I have to accept that it's okay *"I love you I don't wanna be scared of you I'm waiting in the shoreline Please don't run away this time"* Seashells coated in sand tickle the edge of my ear The fog carried on the wind sends chills deep inside The sun will always be there to break the duskiness Daunting across the sky and waking up the tide And the breeze slowly sighed Please don't run away,        don't run away from me Please don't run away,          don't run away from help Please don't run away,              don't run away from the sea Please don't run away,                 don't run away from yourself Angel wings take me further than I've ever gone before
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
Note to Self
I chose ice-cream Over yogurt; Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate. Each equally without prejudice Attracted. The fifteen year old server Was kinda short; The vanilla tub had about three scoops Remaining, Stacked hidden like frozen snow-balls As in war games. His task would have been daunting And embarassing, And I, a humanitarian From higher education, An altruist from St. Joseph's, Could not allow it. The chocolate tub Was yet covered, And the sobbing child's cries Were hardening in my ears As Dad tried to allay His chocolate tears, Applying the five second rule. I am an empath By nature and poetry, So, turning from chocolate, Left me strawberrry. Triple scoop too. I believe You thought through Your choices Like flavors of ice-cream. Being imaginative, I do.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Ice-Cream
It's strange how childhood felt like a train ride that would never stop like reading a book with an infinite number of pages But now you're 19-turning-twenty and the train has finally come to a definite stop the tracks have changed its path and you've reached the end the epilogue It's time to move on move along and grow up step off that train and on to the next adventure close that book and start a new chapter Be brave and brace yourself for there is more to come beginnings can be daunting because it also means saying goodbye to a life you've lived and loved.
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May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
Goodbye Teen Years
Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional. The crossroads of success, Is always constructional. If we could become tress, Solid and stoic, deep rooted In Mother Earth's flesh; We could stand firm Through the tempest, unswayed. But we are only humans. Covered in darkness. Hiding behind our fears, Timidly withdrawing from The ominous tempest. So, embrace the fury, The daunting gales that Once were scary. After all, you can't Stop the waves, But you can learn to surf. And even if you sank, Deeper into the void, At least you'll drown Knowing there was Beauty In The Struggle.
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Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
Beauty In The Struggle
A - the atrocity that my life has become D - the damage, and still,  im not done D - the denial, the doom in the vile,  dangerous, daunting; forever defile I - the image I fake of myself, I- my constant &chronic; bad health. C- the cost of a chemical wealth. T for the tension, paranoia and fear. Yet it’s the letter that symbols it’s here.   I - irrational, insensible, intense. I - irresistible iridescence . O- for the option that I didn’t take, O for the others that still I forsake. And N for nervous. Nauseous. Night. N, the neophyte, turned narcissist knight. Transparent to everyone, how its hold is too true So clear its invisible, Addiction did coo:   “when you wake and feel my crave, and all my charms  different behave; resistance, strength, pain & choice, may mute my spell,  quiet my voice.” “embrace what little light is shed”  suggested addiction, faintly he said: “For I can **** the best man dead, with only shadows in their head.”
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
A D D I C T I O N
Alone I stand, Forgotten how to trust, A title I am brand, For the knife in my back ****** In envious lust, A pack once thought, Once united as one, A battle together once fought. Till our pack shrivelled down to none, Now alone, In haunting silence, No pacts just on my own, In daunting defiance, Forgotten, With all the loyalties won in wars, My trust wilted and rotten, Torn by deceits hateful claws, A Wounded wolf still raw, A lone wolf forever will I be, A wounded wolf with scars I wore, A lone wolf for everyone to see.
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:24 PM UTC
Lone Wolf
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze, Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard ***** And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls. Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin Gay Paree to London town then way out east again, Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall. Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast. Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies. Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears. A sudden realisation of immensity of loss Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky. Global collapse of all electronic gear No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years. Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that And the day is as dark as the cold night is black. And here all we sit, in the here and the now On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower, With a fools pudgy finger just inches above The nuclear button…and all that we love. ……You fear the insanity, sense the insane Knowing that people like this are holding the reign? Knowing that volatility strikes Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife. I don’t have the answers to hand But someone out there, knows how…and can. The sands of time are running thin URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN! M. Planet Earth 6 March 2019
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
The Tomorrow that Must Not Happen!
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze, Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard ***** And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls. Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin Gay Paree to London town then way out east again, Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall. Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast. Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies. Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears. A sudden realisation of immensity of loss Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky. Global collapse of all electronic gear No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years. Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that And the day is as dark as the cold night is black. And here all we sit, in the here and the now On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower, With a fools pudgy finger just inches above The nuclear button…and all that we love. ……You fear the insanity, sense the insane Knowing that people like this are holding the reign? Knowing that volatility strikes Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife. I don’t have the answers to hand But someone out there, knows how…and can. The sands of time are running thin URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN! M. Planet Earth 6 March 2019
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43
*The Road to redemption Is a daunting path It’s an uphill battle That is slippery and steep It goes against the current In the frigid rough rapids With rays of blistering sun A jagged wall of obsidian And a sea of sand There are no shortcuts Only cuts, scrapes and bruises What you did in the past will never be forgotten But what you are remembered for will have changed.*
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
The Road to Redemption
What if aliens existed? what if Ufo’s flew so fast that if we blinked we’d miss it? what if we do not know of their presence because we was excuse me we were not looking in the right place what if you as well as I were an alien life? together we would travel the galaxies like pieties striving for peace with no reprieve but what if aliens did not exist? (maybe the better question) The notion that we are alone on this abyss that it’s 7 billion strong against unimaginably long miles of what we know as just space where human thoughts such as distance and time hold no place but why think a thought so daunting and instead ask What if aliens existed?
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
What if Aliens Existed?
I was in a darkness of my own Within a night I had not known I chose to stumble in my pace With all hope of light misplaced On my course a twinkle caught my eye A lonely star in the sky above Getting ever brighter as I drew nigh Then did I see the truth thereof It was a myriad in mutiny A constellation that raided the night Luminous in its beauty A radiance which compelled my sight I was in a darkness of my own Overcome by a light unknown That eased my path in grace And all lost hope replaced It reclined in the cosmos Calling out to me Seeming within reach almost Then I blurred back to reality A marvel that pulled my soul By more than figure of speech To be part of a whole My flesh could never reach How daunting a brilliance I longed for though farfetched My heart need travel a distance Fear served only to stretch It held my tarrying gaze For only a moment more Then left me in a daze Stealing that which I adore I again stumble in my pace Having lost my stars in space Returned to a state I now bemoan I am in a darkness of my own.
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Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Constellation Beyond Reach
love is so daunting I just might not prevail I'd rather divulge my passion in further prospects Things I am assured of My plans for the future, steady as bored love is so fleeting it hurts why am I falling for you ska girl n o t a g r r r l let's be un-girls together as always, I give in to crushes
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Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Soft Grunge in the Land of Sophia
Just Let It In this language,
 the perplexity 
 of this language, 
 is damaging to me.
 how can there possibly
 exist such an impeccably
 imposing combination of
 words that still manage to destroy 
 a soul as wasted as mine? somehow 
 words discover these fine little cracks in 
 my wall, as thin as the head of a pin. words 
 are like water, rushing into whatever space they 
 can invade, occupying whatever volume they discover. 
 this water trickles through the fragmented spaces, traveling 
all the way to my heart, transforming me in the way they seem to 
alter us all. it is these words that i take with me. words reverberate in my mind, 
disrupt me to my core, degrade me. your  words are the ones i perpetually carry with me...
 any...all of them. yours are the ones that elicit the simultaneous firing of every single neuron in my brain. there is something about the magic of your words flowing together...whispered into my ear. they move through me like a stealthy, lone snake, undulating in a field, stalking its defenseless prey; slowly...at first glance, not appearing to be a perilous threat ...then piercing me all at once with fierce strength and determination, devouring me without appearing to 
 acknowledge that maybe i still...still want to be.
 to be whole. and i do. my body craves 
 the sensation of being complete, not torn apart by the nonsense of your  daunting words disrupting my spirit and making me despise the necessity of language.
 i wish i could void your words 
 from my brain, but my mind is helplessly inconsistent; i can never forget what i long to,   scarcely remember what i must; and my peculiar mind *
certainly* will never forget the sound of your words, 
 just like water,
 flooding me. 
taking me
 over.
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Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:44 AM UTC
Just Let It In
Just Let It In this language,
 the perplexity 
 of this language, 
 is damaging to me.
 how can there possibly
 exist such an impeccably
 imposing combination of
 words that still manage to destroy 
 a soul as wasted as mine? somehow 
 words discover these fine little cracks in 
 my wall, as thin as the head of a pin. words 
 are like water, rushing into whatever space they 
 can invade, occupying whatever volume they discover. 
 this water trickles through the fragmented spaces, traveling 
all the way to my heart, transforming me in the way they seem to 
alter us all. it is these words that i take with me. words reverberate in my mind, 
disrupt me to my core, degrade me. your  words are the ones i perpetually carry with me...
 any...all of them. yours are the ones that elicit the simultaneous firing of every single neuron in my brain. there is something about the magic of your words flowing together...whispered into my ear. they move through me like a stealthy, lone snake, undulating in a field, stalking its defenseless prey; slowly...at first glance, not appearing to be a perilous threat ...then piercing me all at once with fierce strength and determination, devouring me without appearing to 
 acknowledge that maybe i still...still want to be.
 to be whole. and i do. my body craves 
 the sensation of being complete, not torn apart by the nonsense of your  daunting words disrupting my spirit and making me despise the necessity of language.
 i wish i could void your words 
 from my brain, but my mind is helplessly inconsistent; i can never forget what i long to,   scarcely remember what i must; and my peculiar mind *
certainly* will never forget the sound of your words, 
 just like water,
 flooding me. 
taking me
 over.
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52
A daunting challenge. After years Practicing. For that one moment.
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 5:04 PM UTC
The Shot
Less than content with the content you're left with corrupted with eroded shoulders worn down by the weight of your potential don't believe in fate if god decides to show its face **** on your words here that bitter regret bruising test the limits of your passion of your trust one is daunting the other claustrophobic to be caged so tightly by anxiety tortured by the thought of imperfection
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Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 5:20 AM UTC
Imperfection
I can hear it The whistle and rustle as air surrounds and fills the sacks of my lungs I can feel it The heavy tightness of my chest with every exhale I reach in my pocket "Shake" "shake" "Puff" "puff" A sudden relief of my lungs smooth muscles loosening Dopamine fills my body Sigh I exhale and walk away happily daunting the next oncoming of an attack by its hazardous side effects A fish out of water
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Asthma
Your shrill, yet oddly pleasant sound, echoes loudly down the long corridor. I try to ignore you as the jaunty sound clashes with my melancholy mood, Yet I find the notes and melodies cling to my mind like tissue stuck to a shoe, Hanging on for it's own amusement, Ignorant of my desire not to be teased nor humoured at this anxious time. I feel I shouldn't like your racket, My naïve ears and young years sense, not only an inappropriate comedy in your sound, But also a daunting undertone, Adding to my sense of having been plunged into deep icy waters. Perhaps your music soothes those who are leaving, Your high happy notes providing optimism and assurance of recovery, Or of a restful sleep enveloping dear ones. For me, however, at the point of no-return in my pilgrimage, I hear only the low notes, Out of time with my quickened pulse, And lending a foreboding soundtrack to my slow deliberate steps. But you play for no pay, Busking in this hospital, Doing good both night and day. Yes, you are well known in this place, Admired for the hours you commit to this space where lives can hang in the balance, And where your instrument by day is a sharp sleek scalpel, Invasive in its desire to alleviate suffering, Your steady, practiced hand rehearsed and well versed in the methodically planned procedure of a surgical concerto. But out of hours your instrument of choice lends you a voice, Allowing flourishes and improvisations. But were you aware that for visitors like me who visited repeatedly, The clarinet would take on a significance beyond other instruments, Taking me instantly back to bittersweet memories of visiting my family, As, in turn, they aged and became unwell and recovered and became unwell again. Now I am older and a little wiser, I reflect and ruminate on this period; My memories of family are more than just hospital visits, And I wonder if I could ask one thing of you? Why no Rhapsody in Blue?!
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
The Medical Clarinettist
Your shrill, yet oddly pleasant sound, echoes loudly down the long corridor. I try to ignore you as the jaunty sound clashes with my melancholy mood, Yet I find the notes and melodies cling to my mind like tissue stuck to a shoe, Hanging on for it's own amusement, Ignorant of my desire not to be teased nor humoured at this anxious time. I feel I shouldn't like your racket, My naïve ears and young years sense, not only an inappropriate comedy in your sound, But also a daunting undertone, Adding to my sense of having been plunged into deep icy waters. Perhaps your music soothes those who are leaving, Your high happy notes providing optimism and assurance of recovery, Or of a restful sleep enveloping dear ones. For me, however, at the point of no-return in my pilgrimage, I hear only the low notes, Out of time with my quickened pulse, And lending a foreboding soundtrack to my slow deliberate steps. But you play for no pay, Busking in this hospital, Doing good both night and day. Yes, you are well known in this place, Admired for the hours you commit to this space where lives can hang in the balance, And where your instrument by day is a sharp sleek scalpel, Invasive in its desire to alleviate suffering, Your steady, practiced hand rehearsed and well versed in the methodically planned procedure of a surgical concerto. But out of hours your instrument of choice lends you a voice, Allowing flourishes and improvisations. But were you aware that for visitors like me who visited repeatedly, The clarinet would take on a significance beyond other instruments, Taking me instantly back to bittersweet memories of visiting my family, As, in turn, they aged and became unwell and recovered and became unwell again. Now I am older and a little wiser, I reflect and ruminate on this period; My memories of family are more than just hospital visits, And I wonder if I could ask one thing of you? Why no Rhapsody in Blue?!
Continue reading...
35
Airports make me anxious. There is too much going on, too many gates and times and delays and people. They are ***** and crowded. They make me feel small and tiny, iridescent. They are good for people-watching and spending too much on rather cheap food. Airports make people obnoxious. People forget their manners as they scramble to the flight that they're already late for, bumping into me along the way with no apology offered. Airports are huge, massive. Their size is daunting to me; I can so easily get lost and deviate from the path that leads me to the correct gate. Airports are lonely. Nobody makes eye contact anymore with strangers, so I'll sit alone and read a book and maybe drink some tea or coffee, occasionally looking up to see if anyones looking at me. Frankly, I do not enjoy airports. But I enjoy you. So I will sit in an airport someday, sitting cross-legged and reading near a window. I will listen to some music and ponder whatever comes to mind until my flight arrives and it's time to board. I will board my plane, leaving behind the bothersome airport to come see you.
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
Airports
That time of night, that lovely orange glow. A Streetlight can warm the soul, don't you know? Who reckoned that cold wires, metal, glass Could comfort one with a sight like hot brass? The ***** yearn of the flame mimicked there, This soft, sweet, and supple light comes to bear. The sun does not compare, it only blinds. As for headlights, to me similar finds. The daunting nature of the traffic lights, Wishes only to control the good nights. On top of my cliff these radiant stars, Do uplift and burn these sullen hearts ours. For white and blue lights do nothing but be, These orange Streetlights do so elate me.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Ode to a Streetlight
Crocodiles catnapping cuddling in cordial cliques,  Loafing, lollygagging, lurking low like lounging leeches,  Protective postures pouncing prey with piercing pinned precision, Brilliant belligerent beasts basking boldly by swamp beaches,  Agressively angry attitudes among alluring adverse animals,  Deep daunting jaws of death damage drastically when dropping down,  Scales shaped like stabbing shards scrape while swimming strongly,  Opposing opposition order obedience of outrageous odious opponents,  Raged ravenous rapacious reptiles rank repulsive ratings and resourses...   ©Michael P. Smith
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Crocodilian Analysis (Tongue Twister)
Red or Dark eyes?  Vampire, is it time to say goodbye He stopped kissing her Her heart broken, with love.    Gold or pale leaves? Vampire, where is their destiny? He turned off the light and left them with darkness and she escaped from twin towers last night.   Are they **** or ethology creatures? Vampire, who could interpret the sound of his voice? Early last summer, they met at a mask party.   Vampire found his true love after a Brahms themed concert,  Vampire never intended to make a crime. Vampire didn’t know what he had until he lost it. The dusk arises to heal his wounds, with the blood of another. Vampire, opened his eyes, light came through heaven Thank you for the fragile and painful love that you give. Muttered the vampire under his breath. Vampire, took her to all the places that she never knew.   Farewell,Vampire He came and she found what she wanted 
Will she remember that she was there in his debt? those days were a little bit daunting the days she’d rather forget...   Farewell, Vampire He changed her life for the better 
And now he knows it’s better to be brave than be scared Farewell,Vampire, to a little painful but fragile love. Farewell, Vampire He knew he had no choice. But will he ever have one?
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Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 8:50 PM UTC
Farewell, Vampire
The porch waits behind the glass It empathizes as needed I step on it once again And smoke in its graces A compress over the cliff We aspire at Deveraux once again to hear the ocean's rhythmic advice And I do wince, such a daunting way upon the enraged sky A tormented face looking at impassioned ways And now a visitor appears another tormented face under a gossamer spun brazen reds opulent yellows pale blues push through as it unravels with a photograph Her porch vacant once again Mine thankful of its owner to give a futile roll of discontent And once again we listen and gaze And once again we inhale the salt air And once I saw because I stayed Four dolphins shoulder the sand
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Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
Four Dolphins Shoulder the Sand
Confined to the skyscrapers Elevated mechanically To the secluded corners Flights of stairs are daunting The bustling crowd is distant Parks and kids nonchalant About the lonely resident Prisoner between cozy walls Blocked in the secluded world Heart yearns to join the bustle From the rooms of skyscrapers
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Skyscrapers
Harbinger of light, I curled away From chaste, un-daunting rays. And cursed the sphere high in the sky For showcasing my pain You brought me terms and phrases That withered on deaf ears I longed to wrench them from my head When ballads provoked tears Your touch? It singed like acid I yearned to shed this skin Discard this haggard carapace; Exhume the girl within. Your gaze took me to pieces And plucked a shattered shard To hold before my wretched face; Remind me what we are. I’m stained with shadows where you’re light And loud where you are soft. I’m rough, disheveled and clumsy My company’s high in cost. I twist and draw away from you I flee and weep and hide Everything that makes you up, Is who I am inside.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
Inside