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"mourningful" poems
These sunny, summer days remind me of you. They remind me of the wonderful days you spent                  in my arms and in my heart. Oh, I would give anything to make this explosive                  nostalgia reality once again. I need only one more day with you; But, hell? who am I kidding? One day is not enough. A lifetime isn't enough with someone who amounts                 to such an incredulous beauty as                 yourself. I can't help but miss you dearly. I can't help but to cry. I can't help but ponder on your permanent departure                  from the physical realm that we know                  as LIFE. I should be proud of you -- well, I am -- but my arrogance                 tells me to mourn; so what do I do? I mourn, and I mourn, and I mourn some more. I am struck by the mourningful remembrance of your eccentric                  existence and of my experience with it. But I know that one day all of these memories will bring upon                 the polar opposite of the feelings they                 trigger today. That is Happiness. I will be happy. As a matter of fact, I am happy. I am happy that your everlasting fight was began, was                  endured, and was ended with a smile. I am happy for the cease of your suffering. I am happy that you are no longer a victim for the trauma                  that comes with living. I am happy for the infinite hearts and souls that you touched                 with your aspiring inspiration. I am happy to have, at a point in time, been one of the few and                  only who you encased in your affectionate                  passion, and ,with a bit of luck, changed my                  life forever. But to speak the least, I am happy for YOU Breathe Easy Alexandria
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May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
Breathe Easy Alexandria
These sunny, summer days remind me of you. They remind me of the wonderful days you spent                  in my arms and in my heart. Oh, I would give anything to make this explosive                  nostalgia reality once again. I need only one more day with you; But, hell? who am I kidding? One day is not enough. A lifetime isn't enough with someone who amounts                 to such an incredulous beauty as                 yourself. I can't help but miss you dearly. I can't help but to cry. I can't help but ponder on your permanent departure                  from the physical realm that we know                  as LIFE. I should be proud of you -- well, I am -- but my arrogance                 tells me to mourn; so what do I do? I mourn, and I mourn, and I mourn some more. I am struck by the mourningful remembrance of your eccentric                  existence and of my experience with it. But I know that one day all of these memories will bring upon                 the polar opposite of the feelings they                 trigger today. That is Happiness. I will be happy. As a matter of fact, I am happy. I am happy that your everlasting fight was began, was                  endured, and was ended with a smile. I am happy for the cease of your suffering. I am happy that you are no longer a victim for the trauma                  that comes with living. I am happy for the infinite hearts and souls that you touched                 with your aspiring inspiration. I am happy to have, at a point in time, been one of the few and                  only who you encased in your affectionate                  passion, and ,with a bit of luck, changed my                  life forever. But to speak the least, I am happy for YOU Breathe Easy Alexandria
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Tainted youth, mourningful bliss... why does life have to be like this... fighting to fight ... fighting just to fall ... down ... down down ; I go ... meaningful meanings... wonderful delightful beings .. not knowing what I know now and feeling so down ... why must I feel played like a fool ... don't sit and clown.... don't toy with my emotions all it did was make such a commotion ... why speak if all my words are being muffled like I'm not being heard or given the chance to be seen... like I'm the blind eye in everyone else's mind ... like I'm being left behind ... all to just remind me of why ... and why everything happens for a reason, why things happen without treason.... why stumble ... when you fall, you get back up and all you have is a scraped knee but you over see what can't be seen... to hear or not be heard ... to feel or to not feel at all... but when I fall , I fall hard to the point of not wanting to get back up... just lay there and signal help... when you feel as if you don't need it , but your silent screams and your faceless emotions say otherwise.... fragile to struggle saddened by youth ... why are we all tainted by our decisions if all we do is lose ...
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 5:06 PM UTC
.:. Tainted Youth .:.