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"peacefulness" poems
How radiant.  A lovely sight Glowing in the bold sunlight. Love, peacefulness and mirth— Giving joy upon the earth. Sunflower.  Unique you are. Your beauty radiates afar— Engaging the human race, As always, with a happy face. Lovely is the song you sing, Its heartfelt melody to ring. A song of beauty and of grace Lends expression to the face. How charming is the sunflow'r— Adding zing to flow’r power.
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Sunflower
As the melody sings a tune to your heart Like a drug it Soothes the pain Closing your eyes to vision peacefulness Leaving your troubled day behind you Your mental lays in another world Long Soft Relaxing Music
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
Long Soft Relaxing
Healing leaves are now disrobed branches on the edge of this wilderness. Many tall Douglas Fir stand sentinel over 100 foot tall amazing grace — the fleeting leaves expose the beauty of the moss clad scaffolds adorned with a lime-grey lichen lace Nature is my refuge — solid ground to stand in this harmony and peacefulness. Jesse Stillwater — December 2018
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
lime-grey lichen lace
I stand here; outside my balcony amidst darkness in the company of loneliness My soul impertaburbly trapped between forlornness and peacefulness Yin and Yang perhaps, Forlorn because the soul, wounded and damaged perniciously by loneliness.. And peace; because the herb... well the herb heals to some extent My vessel the arena On a forbidden course Yang battles Yin the odds are in his favor THC to Yin is like aconite to wolves; And so he weakens with every hit The melee ends like it was destined to tranquil and pure bliss prevail At that moment; the wind starts to sing her song Calling, whistling to his lover the king of the night she whistles a beautiful song that sounds of a gentle breeze zephyr like pushing aside clouds that guard his majesty; grandiosely his image is revealed in the nightlife Observe they all gather under the nightsky; selenophiles far away from each other all in different worlds but it's this energy that coheres them here together The wind starts to sing the song of halcyon, ogling at the moon in veneration and exhilaration selenophiles danced away into the night.
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Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC
Dance of peace
The drug The high The confusion The craving The withdrawal The brain feels overwhelmed The noise creates chaos in my mind The silence I seek The alone time I need The anxiety kicks in Struggling to breathe... Overthinking creates an addiction, to the things that cause mind suppression. My mind is noisy, with thoughts of occurrences that have happened, and some not. I try not to depress myself, but mistakenly think too far in the future, then get disappointed because expectations have not been reached. Busy, distracted, chaotic, and unfocused. I reach no end to where my mind goes... A path of little thoughts that creates an explosion and downfall. I crave the drugs to give my mind a rest. To give it a sense of peacefulness... I have failed lifes tests. Tense, tight, my mind implodes. Burn my thoughts and bury them in ashed coal. Cannot sleep Cannot close my eyes Always in a state of overthinking... Like my brain is constantly blinking
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Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
Overthinking
how better to spend the day while she sleeps peacefully but listening to music the Beatles in particularly. Catching a glimpse occasionally of her beautiful peacefulness wondering does she dream of me when I hear Good Day Sunshine I ache to wake her up
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
I ache to wake her up
Room 1648 Opening my eyes to The streaming sun light Stretching my body In the heat of the day To the sound of the sea Seeing How lucky I am From the 16th floor Looking out at Sweeping palm trees Stretch of South Beach Echoes of beach life Resonating all around me Feeling the freedom of happiness Of peacefulness Finally Down at the beach Sand between my toes The rolling waves washing Over me The taste of salt on my lips The wind in my face I lose myself in the expanse of ocean Glistening under intense sunshine Your depth of care eventually saving my life Binding us together as husband and wife Feeling the freedom of happiness Of peacefulness Finally
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:34 AM UTC
Room 1648
Standing on the hillside is a rustic yellow cottage, Rusty yellow staining from the steel dust of the trains. Passing, rushing carriages that crisscross by the hour, The ten o clock from Frankston meets the City train detained. Golden light of sunrise in the calm of early morning Golden light reflected on the rusty cottage roof, Puffing at his briar and sitting at the doorstep Old Grandpa drinks the peacefulness whilst stroking cat aloof. Bacon smells a-beckoning from coal range fires a-glowering Delicious tang of coffee from my Granma’s breakfast fare, The clattering of silver wheels as silver rails reverberate Sings the music of the morning with not a trace of care. Memories from yesteryear I treasure on reflection, Memories, a little boy, recalled from times secure. Memories of cuddles in the ***** of my Grandma And the scent of plum tobacco giving Grandpa’s pipe allure. Perhaps a trick of memory, perhaps my passing fancy But I clearly recall a sign above the kitchen door, A simple sign of welcome with a sense of real belonging In the gentle name of “Sunrise” to warm the heart galore. Marshalg In memory of my dear Nan and Pop Cummings @ Mordialloc by the bay. 23 April 2013
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
"Sunrise"
My leg hurts The jaws of this inhumane trap engulf my lower shin I have the tool to disarm it and free myself But I muttle in my adolescent egocentric pain Caught within monotonous routine and self interest I rot like my peers I've sunk to a level of self loathing, that I enjoy pulling myself down I Am Disgusting. I Need Help. I cry for things I can give myself but alas I withhold it to feel sorry for myself Me and my fellow youth Equally as useful, equally as useless Although I am free of the crowd I am still blinded by my adolescence Purpose Interest Intellect Great-fullness Peacefulness Generosity Love PURPOSE all I've know is I am here to be a vessel for knowledge and indoctrination I am here to have an opinion I voice, but does not matter. I do not matter. This function is welded to me However... The voice of destiny reasons with me again and I hear: Seek what's within Garrot it. Place yourself into the walls of meaning and the murals upon't Serve others in selflessness. Share with others in selflessness. Learn from others in selflessness. Teach others in selflessness. Your a pawn in the samsara. Do your duty within its game. Gain higher consciousness so you can share the path to it. Become a giver, not a taker. Interest Intellect Great-fullness Peacefulness Generosity Love Six lessons left, define yourself within them. Or perish within your self indulgent pitiful hole.
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Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 5:13 AM UTC
Fictional Fixedness
*Moment of sadness Breaches tranquil peacefulness Ends today's beauty*
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
Today's Sadness
Turquoise in the morning light The treetops are alive With the myriad of birdsong As the swirling mists arrive And the shaft of brilliant sunshine Penetrates the greenish gloom To illuminate the craggy ridge In a honeyed, golden bloom. The rabbits head for burrows Retreating from the night, A flock of teal, in unison, Explosively take flight, There’s a freshness in the morning air A tingle to the skin And the twinkle in the blue eyes Lets a secret smile begin. Autumn in the country glade The russets and the gold, The song of early crickets In the leafy knoll takes hold, There’s a brilliance in the crispness In the piles of windblown leaves And the healthy crunch of underfoot Invokes a sense of ease. The peacefulness is calming The solace in the sound Of the distant song of blackbird In the tall oaks that surround And the velvet feel of morning Thrills the mind to warmly hum To the glory of occasion In the warmth of Autumn sun. Marshalg Beneath the reds and golds of Autumn leafage. 14 May 2012 © 2012 Marshal Gebbie
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May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 2:09 AM UTC
Warmth of Autumn Sun
Standing in a room of hundreds, a cacophony of voices rising to form a moving mass of noise and confusion. You look down at me and smile, swing your arm up to its familiar position on my shoulder. I encircle my arms around your waist, their rightful place, and wrap my brain with nothing but thoughts of you. And inside my mind, a quiet peacefulness settles.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
Crowded Calm
What beauty shines in dappled light, In misty morning air? What beauty's cloaked in foggy mist, Waiting to be shone? The light it changes endlessly, No view is ever twice, Sun and rain and mist and fog, The ever changing light. The hills they roll in endless clefts, Valleys and ridges roll, Endless land that ever goes, From dawn way out to dusk. A home it is this peaceful place, If only for a time, The comfort of the love here found, That makes a house a home. Horses graze to their delight, The moisture fine with them. The rabbits hope, the birds all sing, The magpie glides around. Few have seen the morning light, Out shining through the mist, Few there are that know delight, Of ranch's peacefulness. Here I sit in morning light, The peace it fills my soul. Refreshing rain and my delight, Out here far from home. What beauty shines in dappled light, In misty morning air? What beauty's cloaked in foggy mist, Waiting to be shone? The light it changes endlessly, No view is ever twice, Sun and rain and mist and fog, The ever changing light. ~Dappled Light by Bethany Davis, June 7, 2014
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Dappled Light
Life can be painless Provided there is sufficient Peacefulness For a dozen or so rituals To be repeated simply Endlessly Your genius does not fail you It allows you to understand the Truth of the situation; Which makes you--at times-- more tragic than ever And your genius, like all geniuses Suffers periodic fits of monumental naïveté Hi-ho Listen: Where is Grace When milk and blood Are about to be added To the composition of the Stinking ping-pong ***** being manufactured In Grand Rapids? Schizophrenia The sound and appearance Of the word fascinates It sounds and looks to me Like a human being Sneezing in a blizzard of Soapflakes This much we know: You made yourself hideously Uncomfortable by not narrowing Your attention to details Of life that were immediately Important And by refusing to believe what Your neighbors believed Hi-ho Let your imagination continue To be the flywheel on the Ramshackle machinery of the truth. But not the ‘awful’ truth The ‘beauty’ in truth Because we are a part Of a system that is very Restless, With people tearing around All the time Every so often, somebody stops to put up A monument Ours is a country where Everybody is expected to Pay his own bills for Everything, And one of the most Expensive things a person Can do is get sick Grace: Because if we stay here We’ll do one of two things (or both!) Build a Commune Or do like Collin Heise did: Make the main thing that we do be this: Move seventy-eight Thousand pounds of olives To Tulsa, Oklahoma Even if we can’t Improve the quality of our surroundings We’ll do our best to make our Insides beautiful instead Piebald Roadtrip-writing, baby Hi-ho You are the turtle able to live anywhere even under water for short periods With your home on your back A particular comfort in Realizing that it so often feels There is no order in the World around us That we must adapt ourselves to The requirements of Chaos instead Remember: We are healthy Only to the extent that Our ideas are Humane To you To me To ourselves To We
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
86 Kurt Vonnegut
Life can be painless Provided there is sufficient Peacefulness For a dozen or so rituals To be repeated simply Endlessly Your genius does not fail you It allows you to understand the Truth of the situation; Which makes you--at times-- more tragic than ever And your genius, like all geniuses Suffers periodic fits of monumental naïveté Hi-ho Listen: Where is Grace When milk and blood Are about to be added To the composition of the Stinking ping-pong ***** being manufactured In Grand Rapids? Schizophrenia The sound and appearance Of the word fascinates It sounds and looks to me Like a human being Sneezing in a blizzard of Soapflakes This much we know: You made yourself hideously Uncomfortable by not narrowing Your attention to details Of life that were immediately Important And by refusing to believe what Your neighbors believed Hi-ho Let your imagination continue To be the flywheel on the Ramshackle machinery of the truth. But not the ‘awful’ truth The ‘beauty’ in truth Because we are a part Of a system that is very Restless, With people tearing around All the time Every so often, somebody stops to put up A monument Ours is a country where Everybody is expected to Pay his own bills for Everything, And one of the most Expensive things a person Can do is get sick Grace: Because if we stay here We’ll do one of two things (or both!) Build a Commune Or do like Collin Heise did: Make the main thing that we do be this: Move seventy-eight Thousand pounds of olives To Tulsa, Oklahoma Even if we can’t Improve the quality of our surroundings We’ll do our best to make our Insides beautiful instead Piebald Roadtrip-writing, baby Hi-ho You are the turtle able to live anywhere even under water for short periods With your home on your back A particular comfort in Realizing that it so often feels There is no order in the World around us That we must adapt ourselves to The requirements of Chaos instead Remember: We are healthy Only to the extent that Our ideas are Humane To you To me To ourselves To We
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It was after we passed Moby’s Dock that Ebony met her first thresher shark He was five feet long or so two feet shark, three feet tail, and had just been pulled from the surf to be proudly displayed by the fisherman who had caught him Ebony stood transfixed her every muscle poised her feathered tail twitched as she leaned closer to inspect and then recoiled from this cold-blooded beauty still dressed in fleetingly iridescent blues and greens and purples - As the sun’s fading beams highlighted the magnificence of this dying shark I mourned his loss that night. The noise and tourists in the Pier’s arcades and bumper cars did not detract from the peacefulness of the Pacific in her chaos for this was August and they would soon go home I watched a distant storm at sea flashing fire against the deepening twilight I stood, and Ebony, gazing at the flashes of lightning My hand felt her softness and warmth as I stroked the waves of her black fur relishing the cool wind on my face listening to the rigging of the boats resting at anchor off the Pier Thinking about thresher sharks Willing them away from this place with its fishermen and cold, baited hooks Cori MacNaughton 13 Sept 2000
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
The Santa Monica Pier
*Hydrangeas and tall boxwood bushes grow on each side of the walkway. Picket fence, greying from need of paint, and Foxglove and Bleeding Hearts thrive in shade. The little breeze shakes the leaves and cause the nodding Roses to sway. In evening when sun begins to set, serene peacefulness comforts my soul like God.* Тадеус
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Serenity
No worries on her mind No battles to fight Just peace Her head on my chest Her hand in mine I couldn’t think of a better place to be I can’t believe she’s all mine To watch her as she sleeps To brush her hair back behind her ear I can’t wait to be here for many more years I look into her lidded eyes and see nothing but sweet peacefulness This is what I crave This is what I live for Your happiness Your peacefulness in my arms
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
She’s peaceful when she’s sleeping
apple plus chai tea hot liquid relaxes nerves the stress disappears the smell of coffee peacefulness and happiness reminders of home stick around for hours keep calm and drink some coffee thinking satisfied
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Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 9:23 PM UTC
Ode to Starbucks
There's a sharp frosty switchback that never sees the sun in winter skies of blue. The frost heave cut-bank rocks tumble down to the side of the road,  in the ice shard mottled ditch lay frozen stiff Tall Sitka spruce marbled gray shadows mat the sparsely traveled   corridor, paved with potholes, where the roads have no names Sometimes listening quietly to the bare stillness, there are   rhetorical questions heard in the silent reverie's say:                         "Have you ever been afraid?" The tree-line gaps above the jagged gray stone ravine, disappearing   down the rugged mountain shade, falling into the pillow-top fog bank blanketing the canyon's murmurs below — headed towards the ocean Crystalline spring waters gurgle up roadside — out of nowhere,   where tired boots stand in reverent contemplation as it all sings out  harmoniously to the trees in the key of silence;   it was there   in a gust of restless forbearance heard the frozen peacefulness  say:                          "Have you ever felt alone?" Gathering a deep breath of marbled gray shadows, silence bears   a loud holler's scorn — echoing back and forth down canyon walls, with the spirit of a voice a multitude strong,  evanescent                              as winter's outgoing tide.                       January 2019 — Jesse Stillwater
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Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:19 PM UTC
winter silence echoes
Apathetically Beautifully Callous Distant Elegy Frees Gradual Hesitation Insecurity Justifiably Killing Love Momentum Nullifying Optimistic Peacefulness Quietly Relinquishing Shared Togetherness Unhappiness Virtually Wills Xeroxing Yourself Zymotically © Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
"Alphabetic Assessment of Separation"
A white horse body armor a fire-breathing dragon a sword a Knight a Warrior a Prince a Lover….He is… **A lady in waiting her love my destiny her desire my need** That connection of the heart, of the soul… of each breath…. just breathe, deep feelings, trust of the heart, the essence of each soul touching, blending, combining, linking, joining, connecting, entwining, merging together, deep feelings….Love… a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is…. **she is the faith I have lived each day hoping she is the horizon come closer be real and it is her which essence takes as truth and honesty** Dreams, serenity, peacefulness, that calm feeling of tranquility, that connection of the heart, of the soul… hope and faith, trust and love, those deep feelings, stardust sparkles and moonbeam glimmers, fireflies, soft kisses, gentle embrace’s, finger traces….Love… a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is…. **depths of hearts are lethal and mine has been broken died now in her eyes words of future peace arise take wing on Angels make beauty real and on that glimpse I breathe** That connection of the heart, of the soul… a quaint riverbed, big oak trees, leaves singing a gentle breeze, the moon, stars the sun, hearts embrace, souls collide touching deep inside, mornin giggles, toast and jam, moon pies, warmth and hot coffee…. forehead kisses, lips brushing the shoulder and…Love… **That word she knew that promise that thought the knowing the sublime connection I saw her there giggling sweet coffee and normal things my dream** A white horse body armor a fire breathing dragon a sword a Knight a Warrior a Prince a Lover…My Heart…He is… ~ **A lady in waiting her love my destiny her desire my need**
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Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
That Connection written by Brianna Love and wordvango
A white horse body armor a fire-breathing dragon a sword a Knight a Warrior a Prince a Lover….He is… **A lady in waiting her love my destiny her desire my need** That connection of the heart, of the soul… of each breath…. just breathe, deep feelings, trust of the heart, the essence of each soul touching, blending, combining, linking, joining, connecting, entwining, merging together, deep feelings….Love… a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is…. **she is the faith I have lived each day hoping she is the horizon come closer be real and it is her which essence takes as truth and honesty** Dreams, serenity, peacefulness, that calm feeling of tranquility, that connection of the heart, of the soul… hope and faith, trust and love, those deep feelings, stardust sparkles and moonbeam glimmers, fireflies, soft kisses, gentle embrace’s, finger traces….Love… a Knight, a Warrior, a Prince, a Lover…. He is…. **depths of hearts are lethal and mine has been broken died now in her eyes words of future peace arise take wing on Angels make beauty real and on that glimpse I breathe** That connection of the heart, of the soul… a quaint riverbed, big oak trees, leaves singing a gentle breeze, the moon, stars the sun, hearts embrace, souls collide touching deep inside, mornin giggles, toast and jam, moon pies, warmth and hot coffee…. forehead kisses, lips brushing the shoulder and…Love… **That word she knew that promise that thought the knowing the sublime connection I saw her there giggling sweet coffee and normal things my dream** A white horse body armor a fire breathing dragon a sword a Knight a Warrior a Prince a Lover…My Heart…He is… ~ **A lady in waiting her love my destiny her desire my need**
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Through halls of cloud his spirit soared Through countless skies of gold In windless corridors of air Through vistas vast and bold. Across the checkered fields of green Above those mountains high My friend would wing his aeroplane Into an endless sky. The windswept beauty reaching out The world so far below This freedom to spread out his wings Would make my friend’s heart glow. His spirit soaring like a bird Into a sky of rain The sunlight setting in the West In shades of sweet refrain. Alone, aloft in peacefulness Is where he means to be, To fly as one with eagles High above a distant sea. To reach up through the heaven’s gate To be at one with God To spiral round like feather down And touch down on the sod. With a heavy heart and weary hands He shut his motor down Forever more to be with us Imprisoned on the ground. A sunbeam I see yonder there At play amongst the shrouds And I fancy seeing Leon’s ghost Flying up into those clouds. Marshalg Mangere Bridge 11th June 2008 Dedicated to my flying mate, the late Leon Denize.
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Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 8:31 PM UTC
Ode to an Aviator
There was an eerie quiet peacefulness in the small sparsely furnished room. The only sound that may have been heard was of a solitary man wearing a brown robe with the hood pushed carefully back in order that his head would bared before God. He was breathing in and out in a steady and relaxed way as he occasionally and deliberately turned a page. The man, perhaps in his sixties, one couldn’t tell but for the age-worn hands that rested gently on a tome before him. He was deep in thought and concentration as he studied his Bible, something he did daily. These were his moments of quiet contemplation, but ones that he never shared, but with his God, and upon finishing, he quickly rose and rejoined his Brothers. He felt at Peace. ©Joe Wilson – In quiet contemplation 2014
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
In quiet contemplation
and as being alone is not the same as lonliness...then perhaps "peacefulness" does not mean the silly liberal search for the end of hostilities and as being a lover does not mean having *** with someone but merely implies a true commitment to humanity....then of course all things are seen in natural harmony but then! what would lady gaga say! and as being a real soul does actually seem to necessitate the abandonment of cultural stupidity.......then perhaps our attempts to write down and express our feelings might possibly be the act of saving the world! but then! what would sarah palin say we really mean! --- come be free it is better that way i
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Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
freedom and responsibility
When it was late, and quiet, And we'd lie in bed in silence Staring up at the ceiling or at the shadows on the wall, Just when I'd think we'd run out of things to say, Just when I'd let myself start to drift toward the peacefulness of unconsciousness, You'd sigh deeply and plunge head-first into an existential rant worthy more of Kafka or Camus than a half-asleep me. Me, worried about the absurdity of gas prices, not the absurdity of life. And I'd roll my eyes when you'd ask me questions I'd never even entertained, let alone have the answers to. And you'd wonder if you'd ever find a meaning, or a purpose. And I'd tell you not to worry; to live more in the moment If there is meaning, you'll find it If not, you'll define it. And you'd kiss me gently on the forehead, And I'd roll over and fall asleep, But I suspect you'd lay awake for hours after, Never truly satisfied with the answers I, or anyone else could ever seem to give you. And I wonder now sometimes, If you lie in bed next to someone new, And ask her the same questions you used to ask me. Maybe she has better answers. Maybe she makes you forget about your questions. Maybe you still lie awake at night, wondering if you'll ever find what it is you're looking for. And I still don't have the answers, And I still don't understand all the questions, But sometimes I lie awake at night, Staring up at the ceiling or at the shadows on the wall, And I wonder if I'll ever find a meaning or a purpose. And I find I'm never truly satisfied with the answers anyone can ever seem to give me.
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
"I think my life is of great importance, but I also think it is meaningless"
When it was late, and quiet, And we'd lie in bed in silence Staring up at the ceiling or at the shadows on the wall, Just when I'd think we'd run out of things to say, Just when I'd let myself start to drift toward the peacefulness of unconsciousness, You'd sigh deeply and plunge head-first into an existential rant worthy more of Kafka or Camus than a half-asleep me. Me, worried about the absurdity of gas prices, not the absurdity of life. And I'd roll my eyes when you'd ask me questions I'd never even entertained, let alone have the answers to. And you'd wonder if you'd ever find a meaning, or a purpose. And I'd tell you not to worry; to live more in the moment If there is meaning, you'll find it If not, you'll define it. And you'd kiss me gently on the forehead, And I'd roll over and fall asleep, But I suspect you'd lay awake for hours after, Never truly satisfied with the answers I, or anyone else could ever seem to give you. And I wonder now sometimes, If you lie in bed next to someone new, And ask her the same questions you used to ask me. Maybe she has better answers. Maybe she makes you forget about your questions. Maybe you still lie awake at night, wondering if you'll ever find what it is you're looking for. And I still don't have the answers, And I still don't understand all the questions, But sometimes I lie awake at night, Staring up at the ceiling or at the shadows on the wall, And I wonder if I'll ever find a meaning or a purpose. And I find I'm never truly satisfied with the answers anyone can ever seem to give me.
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