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"gif" poems
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
death is robbed via suicide, i want to rob death of of its stature
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
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90
Don’t think too much About forbidden touch Or legal abuse of such Little creatures like dairy cows and fabric workers. Don’t feel too much. The homeless man with his crutch Can disappear, hush. Turn your head dear, eat McDonald’s chicken fingers. Don’t love too much. Why on real people crush? People slip through your clutch. As flashing lights reanimate Rihanna, both your eyes close the shutters. Our world distracts us from seeing, Persuades us we need a break. Deserving one after a day going nowhere. Turn the TV on to the latest ‘Bachelor’. So loud. So loud. So loud. Too loud! I shut my eyes from the too-bright lights. I need to escape the escape, to find solace. I put pen to paper and hear its whisper. Poetry softly roars while TV screams shrill. You’ll remember the written words for time Degrees of magnitude than you’ll remember (consciously) that singing cat meme. Real love takes more effort Than a heart reaction on Facebook. Writing truth takes longer than re-posting. Yet I want to share myself, not another gif lol. Mute the volume for a second. Can deaf ears hear again the music of the pen? Think too much.
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
Don't Think Too Much
My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come *** To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fellow, In poortith I might mak a fen’: What care I in riches to wallow, If I mauna marry Tam Glen? There’s Lowrie, the laird o’ Dumeller, “Guid-day to you,”—brute! he comes ben: He brags and he blaws o’ his siller, But when will he dance like Tam Glen? My minnie does constantly deave me, And bids me beware o’ young men; They flatter, she says, to deceive me; But wha can think sae o’ Tam Glen? My daddie says, gin I’ll forsake him, He’ll gie me guid hunder marks ten: But, if it’s ordain’d I maun take him, O wha will I get but Tam Glen? Yestreen at the valentines’ dealing, My heart to my mou gied a sten: For thrice I drew ane without failing, And thrice it was written, “Tam Glen”! The last Halloween I was waukin My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken: His likeness cam up the house staukin, And the very gray breeks o’ Tam Glen! Come counsel, dear Tittie, don’t tarry; I’ll gie ye my bonie black hen, Gif ye will advise me to marry The lad I lo’e dearly, Tam Glen.
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2.9k
Tam Glen
Let me gif you Comfort Yasser As you claim me from behind ****** your Frustrations o Into me I hold your head Next to mine Me saying Sweet nothings To cool you off
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Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 3:54 PM UTC
Yasser (comfort)
I promise, to watch you everyday. To like everything you do, even when others don't. I promise to share you to all of my friends, but tell them I found you first. When you need a smile, I will make a gif of yours and watch it loop. If better, means making your view count higher, count me in.....count me in a 1, 000, 000 times. If worse, means staying up past 3am to see your new video, let me be an insomniac. I will care for you, when you catch a virus. I will never cheat on you, with another channel of viewers. I will subscribe to every, heartbeat, breath, and click. I can muster. You are my tube. and I promise to love you, till we crash.
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Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
Vows from a Youtube Fan Girl
The sweet aroma of love-spell scented candles Prior to dinner, overtook me stunningly. As I made the table and set the fine mantle For my love, my life, my one fair lady. Her glare so enticing, as she stepped down the stairs, Seductively wearing a black pearl silk dress. Her beaming smile, her unsurpassed gif to share. Holding her neck, our first sweet caress. Sassy yet classy, I hold her she’s mine. We share this great moment; our souls intertwine Sudden a gasp, there go our lips. So luscious, so tender, our very first kiss. Exuding great passion our kiss follows through Then, I whisper in her ear, “Baby I Love You”
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Nov 10, 2010
Nov 10, 2010 at 7:54 AM UTC
Unforgettable Night
And it's like you expect me not to hurt; I mean I am the perpetrator, but that doesn't make it any Easier Easier would have been everything working All the cogs aligning, workin' properly I almost lost it on a .gif I almost cried from viewing something that reminded me. I made the right choice, because the cogs are aligning on my side, they're workin' properly But that doesn't make this grandfather clock creak any less.
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
Grandfather Clock
I need to write a poem But look, Jake and Amir Just one video, Amir has got braces oh dear I'll get back to work soon after this Wookie Jesus and kittens that explode New info on The Last Of Us the movie And cracked's opinion on sushi And this gif wont load
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
Procrastination
i prolly jus fell out of like w u when u didn't text me back about that awesome GIF i sent of the white Jets snapping their fingers
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
i just fell out of like w u, prolly
Sounds swarming But quite alarming College babes Like___ Slimfast Drink___ fast Loves never last Dorming **** X box Assassin Creed Video gifts Elfering Twitter  featuring The Rattlesnake ********* My sweet surrender Sangria stuttering Big mistake The sangria Clever mastering The place was bugged That Drunk No comedy act Ben Stiller All  Gigs **** her GIF ruff stuff Gold digger bluff Hangover cliff Her bedroom eyes Tonight the Holy water I phone Maria Sangria suits him Just the ring fighter Ratfinks website White being creamed Drink Kahlia I won't My dream drink Sangria Saint My love, you ain't He is singing Maria Strong hangover with mudpack Malaria Drink playmate All geared up Generous Gina Montezuma revenge The Saint lounge Competition How she flaunts her drinks inferior Writing a poem missing some fonts ((His Tatoo)) the bomb drinker Pineapple chunks Bayou water ripe ripples Leftover drunks Mon Cheri ******* Acting like a Saint Terri spiritual Rumi The drink scruples relationship sandstorm Riders of Morrisons Heirs of beer At the dorm The ((Psychic Alarm)) Your drink woke you up ****** humor potential Sangria Someone was singing I just met a girl named Maria ((Harry Potter Hogwarts)) San Antonio Met Maria What a belly wash Drinking up Alcoholic Darts Sanguine Difficulty pregnancy Two lovers liking Maria Optimistic Smoothing in Sangria He has a Margarita____* Mexican Cancun Margaret upbeat down to her last drink Sangria tank Egyptian Army buddy drinking Like a sandbank Computer Clickbank Lions and coins sandblasting Morons multitasking Bermuda sounds Sandpipers And globetrotters My Saint of Sangria Barcelona Goddess On her drenched Sangria mattress She could have done his Bio ((That SanAntonio)) ((Hostess)) Gia Lollobrigida Tony was singing out to Maria Her wings of liquor The Saint moves quicker_______ Cabaret stripper Natalie let me entertain you Surprise the sanitarians Flipping homes Drinking up Their Sangria My Saint Bella Mama Mia You arrived invite your friends No Maria______!! Drinks on me Schools out But Sangria Stays in we party Way out
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May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
My Saint Of Sangria
Sounds swarming But quite alarming College babes Like___ Slimfast Drink___ fast Loves never last Dorming **** X box Assassin Creed Video gifts Elfering Twitter  featuring The Rattlesnake ********* My sweet surrender Sangria stuttering Big mistake The sangria Clever mastering The place was bugged That Drunk No comedy act Ben Stiller All  Gigs **** her GIF ruff stuff Gold digger bluff Hangover cliff Her bedroom eyes Tonight the Holy water I phone Maria Sangria suits him Just the ring fighter Ratfinks website White being creamed Drink Kahlia I won't My dream drink Sangria Saint My love, you ain't He is singing Maria Strong hangover with mudpack Malaria Drink playmate All geared up Generous Gina Montezuma revenge The Saint lounge Competition How she flaunts her drinks inferior Writing a poem missing some fonts ((His Tatoo)) the bomb drinker Pineapple chunks Bayou water ripe ripples Leftover drunks Mon Cheri ******* Acting like a Saint Terri spiritual Rumi The drink scruples relationship sandstorm Riders of Morrisons Heirs of beer At the dorm The ((Psychic Alarm)) Your drink woke you up ****** humor potential Sangria Someone was singing I just met a girl named Maria ((Harry Potter Hogwarts)) San Antonio Met Maria What a belly wash Drinking up Alcoholic Darts Sanguine Difficulty pregnancy Two lovers liking Maria Optimistic Smoothing in Sangria He has a Margarita____* Mexican Cancun Margaret upbeat down to her last drink Sangria tank Egyptian Army buddy drinking Like a sandbank Computer Clickbank Lions and coins sandblasting Morons multitasking Bermuda sounds Sandpipers And globetrotters My Saint of Sangria Barcelona Goddess On her drenched Sangria mattress She could have done his Bio ((That SanAntonio)) ((Hostess)) Gia Lollobrigida Tony was singing out to Maria Her wings of liquor The Saint moves quicker_______ Cabaret stripper Natalie let me entertain you Surprise the sanitarians Flipping homes Drinking up Their Sangria My Saint Bella Mama Mia You arrived invite your friends No Maria______!! Drinks on me Schools out But Sangria Stays in we party Way out
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158
While snapchatting about my newest cat fail video my Instagram bea blew up my twitter feed I was all, *** DM much…” But she was already facebooking selfies. I shot her a gif and invited her to follow me On tumblr…. The whole time lamenting Over my dead myspace account –
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
**** social media
*We met in a very vast space where only zeros and ones could activate a magic portal that leads to our address. A simple 'like' have started it all Like a bomb that's been waiting to explode. Like turns to comment then to chats then it turns to video calls that no one knows when would last. It was too good to be true, all the sweet nothings and emojis, all the GIF and vlogs. I know that one day we'll meet, not just in that vast space or in our dream, but in a place where we could touch our hands together, Without even thinking twice.* (c) ForgottenDiety
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
No more thinking twice
What happens when you become the mediocre you told her to never to settle for. No matter the metamorphosis you undergo it never meets her expectations, she read my manual and saw in the future. She tells me I'm capable of being all that she's looking for. That's when I shut down on the inside because everyday the agenda changes and she'll​ never give home work, work sheets, nor practice test to instill the teachings from the other days, only just exams. You know the big challenges that supposedly made up of everything you learn, and if you having a bad day and malfunction before you can test your might, it just looks like you've done nothing. I perform fine on a daily basis but when I'm given test I don't consent to the collections of 1's and 0's freeze which leads failure like cutting the red wire. I'm confused if she's performing the job of a teacher or hacker with this slow but swift buffer over flow attack. Every passing moment of me living with failure that file contains a MP4 of me in that moment making her mad like when Google chrome is unresponsive , a MP3 file of her telling me what I did that repeats over, and over and, over again. A gif of my heart breaking down to it's last megabytes, and a gig of her love lost due to my corruption. She's not the problem though, she's the spectator, and sometimes the controller. I just want to make her happy, make her buy in to me like how we did when I was glowing with change not keep her down with chains. My next step is to rip out my mother board and tell her program me, cause whatever my programming is, it isn't up to par with her. It's crazy what we as robots do keep what's real.
0
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:52 AM UTC
What happens when you become the mediocre
What happens when you become the mediocre you told her to never to settle for. No matter the metamorphosis you undergo it never meets her expectations, she read my manual and saw in the future. She tells me I'm capable of being all that she's looking for. That's when I shut down on the inside because everyday the agenda changes and she'll​ never give home work, work sheets, nor practice test to instill the teachings from the other days, only just exams. You know the big challenges that supposedly made up of everything you learn, and if you having a bad day and malfunction before you can test your might, it just looks like you've done nothing. I perform fine on a daily basis but when I'm given test I don't consent to the collections of 1's and 0's freeze which leads failure like cutting the red wire. I'm confused if she's performing the job of a teacher or hacker with this slow but swift buffer over flow attack. Every passing moment of me living with failure that file contains a MP4 of me in that moment making her mad like when Google chrome is unresponsive , a MP3 file of her telling me what I did that repeats over, and over and, over again. A gif of my heart breaking down to it's last megabytes, and a gig of her love lost due to my corruption. She's not the problem though, she's the spectator, and sometimes the controller. I just want to make her happy, make her buy in to me like how we did when I was glowing with change not keep her down with chains. My next step is to rip out my mother board and tell her program me, cause whatever my programming is, it isn't up to par with her. It's crazy what we as robots do keep what's real.
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Song of ****  Things got wrong  Black dark sky  Landed on D2371.  This void soul  Dark matter shatter Who are you? A question perhaps  Trapped in screenshot  Living in simulation  Talk of town Who's this sarcasticbong?  Dumb dumb  Looking for show It's hidden flow Blinded earthlings go.  Multiple parallel riff  Colours popping gif Can't you niff  Awake your clairvoyance.  Narrate your story Mock theosist lore So called influencer  Hide your favorites  Blame to others  Boycott with hastags Real is bluff  Everything good, me  Everything bad, you  Rhyming with tagline  Someone tagged you.  fyoo-cher  haz-bin kom-pruh-mahyzd.  ©sarcasticbong
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Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 2:25 PM UTC
CLAIRVOYANCE
I'm afraid I'm beginning to frame you in forever. But we are young And that is stupid. But what if I want to be stupid? Hey as long as it's with you. I'm listening to that song you gave me, *"born to multiply born to gaze into night skies all you want's one more Saturday"* All these ideas of youth, fun, carefree, reckless. *"I feel like I could just fly but nothing happens every time I try"* We are young and I can't stop thinking about you. And pictures of you make me smile And I replay your laugh again and again, unending like that gif of you in my phone on my palm, you in a cosmic, comical, dance loop. Whoever thought that that boy that boy who sat at the back of the class the boy I'd never talked to and only shyly added up on facebook would end up being you? Maybe maybe this won't last forever or even that long (at least not by adult standards; who rate everything by time and not the intensity and quality of our shared moments) Maybe this won't last forever But at least now it feels like it could. The song has ended ...but I shall play it again because there is such a thing as a replay button And you are still here you can still dance on my palm you can still smile at me across a concert crowd and we can still walk the pavements at night. We may be young But I've already imagined telling you "Hey, no matter what happens between us let's agree that what we have right now, it's real"
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Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
you.
On a night like this My heart swells enormous Much to give, so little Left of it On a night like this Foggy with dead wishes Wished, gone unfulfilled Sent kisses In midair hang heavy, Corporeal, On a night like this Park bench misery, my Mystery love, would you Meet me in the dark time? May your cold hand find mine Hold tight, brace for impact In the ensuing wave of chaos
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May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
Fashion Me|.GIF
I worked on poetry for three hours. It felt great. Art is me breathing, not rationalizing me breathing. I created a melody, then cried. It was beautiful. I practiced it and felt hollow. I moved on. I created a GIF for work and then wrote this. I am still in sweats.
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
sentences.
As the beat breaks, the floor trembles, the records spin, and we all dance on the hardwood floor covered in spilt beer cocktail napkins, at a house show in DC, where I'll always remember rushing on the stage and waving my cellphone, as though I brightened the light in a beacon tucked away in a lighthouse on a grotesque rock formation, in the corner of the James River. I studied her movements: tiny and minute, enough to bring exposure to the deejay scratching records on a set of turntables, cut from a maple tree. The lights cut off, like a road raged driver who maneuvers frantically around my vehicle, this vessel containing my space, personal and untouched, a lonely cabin in a dense forest. Now I'm considering whether I should break the beer bottle over the bar booth, or send her an emoji, a meme, or a gif, to let her know my heart possesses multitudes, beyond the scope of your timeline. Found life in the bottom of a Murakami Well deeper and larger than the cavern behind the hidden waterfall, in a tourist attraction in Chattanooga. This is for when I'm sorry; make me forget about drawings you’ve sketched on the back of your pair of converses. So do me a solid, give me the first home video of your newborn crawling around the carpet, or the dance floor. And then tell me why can't I be great too.
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
Your turn_Table
Eina! Die prikkel van n naald Gif vloei soos water in my lewens-strome Val my liggaam aan met geweld Die skeur en afbreek van my drome Elkeen voel ek Dis vir my gesondheid, maar sal my menslikheid nog geld Dis die knop wat als begin het, nee Die trek van n kanker stokkie Die waarskuwing op die boksie gee mee My lus kon ek nie meer hou nie 'Dis twak, hoekom sal dit op entjies verskyn' **** ek soos die rook diep in my longe verdwyn ***** is my voorland Ek kan lankal nie meer op my bene staan My liggaam het ingesak toe my spiere vergaan Ek is skaam, so so skaam Die nurse, nog n kind, moet my doeke ruil Ek voel verneder, maar dit pyn as ek huil O dood, ou vriend Vir my kan jy maar kom haal Ek wag al maande vir jou, Maar jyt iewers by die ou langs my verdwaal Hy was erger, soveel erger as ek Sy are het al begin kraak Na Elke inspuiting, of behandeling Het hy op alles gebraak Ek is amper daar, ek voel dit aan my Een van die dae is ek ook aan die dood se sy
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Dec 14, 2019
Dec 14, 2019 at 4:00 PM UTC
Aan die dood se sy
It was pouring cats and dogs, I saw her drenched to the skin, She ran to the canopy where I stood, Her wet look,see through blouse, and hunched shoulders, Made A Sound in my heart, Thud, thud, thud................... I offered her my coat. The next sunny day I saw her at the bus stop, "Hi, remember me from yesterday." " Sorry pal it was dark, I don't recall you. Your FILE NOT FOUND!" I insisted,"Don't let my heart's 'Server Down." Your smile, your style,your grace I have clicked SAVE in one FILE. Please be my life's Animated GIF. She:"I am involved with someone, I have no more 'Disk Space' in my heart's storage for you. Please 'Ctrl+alt+delete' me from your life."
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
Ctrl+alt+delete
dans jy jou duiwels uit? bid jy hulle reg? sing jy hulle aan die slaap? sus jy hulle gille weg? of voer jy hulle gif tot jy hulle as wapens kan rig?
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Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:48 PM UTC
duiwels
There was a chance Blown away the first time you reached out to me after all of these years.25 years later you asked me if I remembered what I gave you at prom.You graciously gave me a hint becuase I forgot it was 25 years ago.You gave me a hint a gif of a perfume bottle.Well yes!!! It was "Beautiful" I exclaimed the memory came back Beautiful I texted back .You said yes!! You also said "I still have it". My world stopped I felt my heart it ached like never before. Everything stopped I forgot to breath .You brought me to my knees I've fallen for you all over again .The flood gates of emotion filled my soul like nothing I've felt before 25 years later.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
Chance
Where have all the poets gone the wordsmiths of this generation, the fearless men and women once held in admiration Lost to all eternity their anguish and their pain no love lorn tales or primal whails​ ,will be heard again The romantics and the realist,all die a silent death Lost to all eternity,amid the modern quest Replaced by keyboard shorthand, emojis and the gif Perhaps the emotions too are lost that inspired these greats, the teenage angst , the broken heart, that life cut short by fate. The hour is late ,and sleep but a dream the pen I hold my only means ,to cleanse my soul and find my inner peace
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 6:12 AM UTC
Poetry lost