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"posibility" poems
The abstract of your young mind Has painted you into false conclusions Tilting on highs and lows Of denial and delusion Having taken a bet to far You know not what you say or do Misguidedly triggering a..."forest of a tale" Brought you under a misconstrue spell It has you on a floating scale In high def echo, in a state of confusion I want the one I know best Before he takes one more wrong mistep Into the wilderness journey That will fall dark into a hole Locks them in Make sure it's the choice you want to travel down Cause it's a long lost lonely road Where the traveling will limit your lens Into a forest you'll go And never come out again Come Back Out Of The Forest Into the posibility of...Hope (upwc) by: Zenobia Lee/LadyZ710
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Dec 21, 2009
Dec 21, 2009 at 12:27 AM UTC
Forest Of A Tale
Took you for a walk Stroll through the park with thoughts of romantic talk i thought of all the posibility how you might start to really see me i could picture your happy face looking into my eyes a loving gaze the ultimate prize that's how it was suppose to be but it happened quite differently you see it was just a fantacy cause you didnt smile once you kept your distance had a straight face even walked at seperate pace there were fire works what a suprise but you didnt even look and as you walked away i caught another case of that heartbreaking cold it was probalby my fault my hopes were too bold you had a good hand so i look at mine and fold your hand i will never hold
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 2:43 PM UTC
I fold
Old folks keep saying "take responsibility" but do they know dying is a posibility theres no time in life to take a hike or even obssessing over the boy like i'll be a rebel forever but a doctor,NEVER. I dont like school its just not cool but hey,education is my only way to salvation all these problems and troubles are in my brain if i were a cop i'd totally go insane!
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
ITS MY LIFE
I listened to my stubby heels echoing light clicks and clacks on the ***** pavement, a sound far better than the the laughter and chatter of the previously escaped classroom. I mozied along the empty campus, feeling warmed by the bits of fog that clung to the air and moss trees towering from pine needles in a very still way that if not for the fog's gentle swaying I would have assumed the world to have stopped. I liked it that way best. When things are still and quiet and full of posibility but you choose not to reign in that possibility because you love the freshly chilled air, air so fresh it makes you want to fill your lungs with it and take a To-Go bag as well. Sometimes I sit and look out, silently hoping that if I sit there long enough I too, will become quite still and fresh fog might cling to me and someone else might admire me as part of a still world, like a picture in a golden frame.
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 2:25 PM UTC
Skipping Class
eyelids, as thin fold of skin against the rain, the consequence the posibility I shove this progress, making space and making time. I just want to lose all this will energy just so they admit me to a hospital break and I want to fake everything. . . God why can't you make all this easy for me? and to my Mom who seemed to forgot what living is supposed to be, you're dragging me in the same ending, I hope she knows. and to my real Father who never figured things out, I'm happy that I got your ideals and that you get me in my current situation. how many remaining days are there before I lose all this and become a shadow of what I used to be? I wasn't great, never better but around these days I don't feel much and as I am writing this pitiful poem I can feel the urge in my hands to break something in order to let everyone know that something is wrong but no, people never know I have been fooled of this fantasy so many times that it made me burn bridges, including long ones. losing sleep, restless I come at it again, I'll force my way all throughout the day, earn the money while I slowly turn into stone, losing myself and drifting away, **** I am drifting away. . tomorrow another blank slate, thin fold of skin against what tomorrow brings no rhymes problems in the daylight and mostly at night only living without being truly alive, I come as a poet with problems at night.
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
problems at night
Ive traced the stars with my fingers a thousand times like i connected the line of freckles on your shoulders. Ive studied the constellations and memorized the alignment of the planets like the scars on your thighs. Ive dreamed of fading into the vastness of space in the same way i used to melt into your lips. Ive cursed the dust and gas that fills the milkyway in the same way i drowned in the galaxies of your eyes. Ive watched meteors shower down from above like angels fall from grace and ive tried to understand why in the same way the sound of your voice made me quiver. Ive questioned the posibility of other life existing beyond our own and i wonder if they have known love the way i have known you. Ive defined love to be when two stars collide but instead of them absorbing into eachother it explodes and goes supernova like we did when we kissed. Ive pondered if hearts transform into black holes that **** everything in just in the same exact way you did to me. I long for an astronomical explination to why antares and rigel orbit the sun like how my world revolved around you. Dont you dare tell me it was just gravity and dont you dare tell me you dont feel it anymore bc thats not how love works.
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Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
You are Astronomy