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"rised" poems
Such A Lovely Bubble Rise Bulbs And Spark To The Heart I Kept Watching You With My Eyes Hearing Your Voice Awakens Art I Picked The Words In My Poem To Point Them On You Like Apollo's Arc On My Eyes A Desire For The Aim Reaches Jupiter To Leave A Mark So I Can Say It On Each Verse Through The Soft Arrow Of Anteros Till The Endless Part Of The Universe Beyond The Level Of The Erotes With A Sublime Blessed Grace I Described The Beauty Of Your Face Pale White Conquered The Place Such A Stardust Perfected The Space Then You Paused The Time!, It Never Ends! Astonished While Our Spirits Ascends So I Drew You On Every Potential Star With Endless Feelings! Unconquerable Grips! You Rised And Forgot Who The Humans Are! You Teased The Sun To Touch Your Lips Once It Got Very Close, Still Pretty Far! Your Care Launched A Thousand Ships While Your Innocence Nags And Glare What An Existence!, Such A Cosmos She Grips A Galaxy That Craters The Beauty Of Mercury! Drives Venus Jealous To His Very End! Then Uranus Gave Up On Such A Mystery! Pluto Wolf Whistled His Frozen Wind! Mars Was Not Able To Belive His Own Eye! Neptune Was Busy Losing His Own Mind! Saturn And His Ring Felt Like A Fly! Earth Was The Blessed Land! Yet Jupiter Was The One To Tie! Author/ Aladdin Aures H.
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Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 5:15 AM UTC
Beyond The Erotes !
only the moon knew her darkest secrets, the depth of her thought was the deepest, up all night, its something she does frequent, she's an angel from heaven, that fell for a demon, a beautiful image, turned into a broken spirit, constant arguments and disagreements, her smile held pain, but she stuck to concealment, because her friends and the world were incoherent, I got to see her smile one day, ever since then, nothing has been the same, she no longer puts that same smile on her face, she once felt grace, but it turned to disgrace, the beauty she holds is inexplainable, the purity in her soul is gold, yet unattainable, because she no longer holds trust, what she thought was love, turned into lust,,an addicting drug, that having is a must, the magical feeling, turned into dust, she misses the memories, kisses, and hugs, now she confides in her own sorrow, asking god for a better tomorrow, he gives her a light to follow, but her own pride is hard to swallow, A beautiful intelligent female, who felt love through the most intimate detail, at school she was the most diligent female, filled in amazing aspects, and assets, but she continues to feel the absence, and still doesnt comprehend the circumstances, for his actions, of dissatisfaction, still to this day hasnt changed her reaction, the biggest heart break shes ever dealt with, it was minor to him, but her heart really felt it, like a beautiful ice sculpture, she melted, and there I was the person to who she vented, staring deep into her dark brown eyes, i saw what nobody else saw, deep deep inside, she was wise at mind, i searched more within, as the sun rised, a beautiful lonely girl, that told me under the stars and moonlight, "hold me close and never let go." i was there to carefully listen, she opened up like a book. after she looked up to me and said i was different, that i just might be what her heart was missin, her eyes and smile once again glistened, i told her, "look at the stars, look how they shine for you, until the stars in the sky shine no more, i'll always be there, until the end of time for you."
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 2:25 PM UTC
The Beautiful Lonely Girl
only the moon knew her darkest secrets, the depth of her thought was the deepest, up all night, its something she does frequent, she's an angel from heaven, that fell for a demon, a beautiful image, turned into a broken spirit, constant arguments and disagreements, her smile held pain, but she stuck to concealment, because her friends and the world were incoherent, I got to see her smile one day, ever since then, nothing has been the same, she no longer puts that same smile on her face, she once felt grace, but it turned to disgrace, the beauty she holds is inexplainable, the purity in her soul is gold, yet unattainable, because she no longer holds trust, what she thought was love, turned into lust,,an addicting drug, that having is a must, the magical feeling, turned into dust, she misses the memories, kisses, and hugs, now she confides in her own sorrow, asking god for a better tomorrow, he gives her a light to follow, but her own pride is hard to swallow, A beautiful intelligent female, who felt love through the most intimate detail, at school she was the most diligent female, filled in amazing aspects, and assets, but she continues to feel the absence, and still doesnt comprehend the circumstances, for his actions, of dissatisfaction, still to this day hasnt changed her reaction, the biggest heart break shes ever dealt with, it was minor to him, but her heart really felt it, like a beautiful ice sculpture, she melted, and there I was the person to who she vented, staring deep into her dark brown eyes, i saw what nobody else saw, deep deep inside, she was wise at mind, i searched more within, as the sun rised, a beautiful lonely girl, that told me under the stars and moonlight, "hold me close and never let go." i was there to carefully listen, she opened up like a book. after she looked up to me and said i was different, that i just might be what her heart was missin, her eyes and smile once again glistened, i told her, "look at the stars, look how they shine for you, until the stars in the sky shine no more, i'll always be there, until the end of time for you."
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When the Lord created heaven and earth, he created men. They became our four fathers who had the authority to rule over all that crawled on this earth. They were told to be fruitful and mutlipy, and they bore us. Their dominion passed on to us. While yet his commandments we abused. But the Lord said unto us, no weapon formed against us will prosper. And every tongue that rised against us in judgement he condemned. Our sins redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, he left all this as our heritage, and our righteousness in him we found. His breath bestowed in us, his glory seen in us, he knew in us our mothers' womp, and in every hand he laid a different heritage. A heritage of his grace, his wisdom, and knowledge.
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Our heritage...(in Christ)
I wish you’d let the sky shine bright for you. It’s so blue outside, the good kind. Move the curtains to the side, sneak a glimpse, Sip the air slowly and whistle it out. Step carefully so you can hear the porch steps creak and feel the wood under your bare feet without worrying about the splinters. There aren’t any. Just come outside. The fields will part when the time is right, and the sky will illuminate the guiding side. And when you find that the earth can hold your weight, that the world won’t collapse when you confess your fate, you’ll see how the clouds shield you just the right way from the hard rays of the sun, but you can still see the glow. And it may time some time, your feet may burn and sore, Blister even, maybe, but time heals all wounds, I swear, Even the worst of heartaches. Even my heart is breathing again, slowly. It is pumping. Just consider that if glass shards can be glued back together, mirrors hung back on the wall for Snow White to get ready in, and the veins in my wrist sealed back up with love and rain, there is another day for you to see. I am not porcelain. I am weak, But every time I am broken to the ground, I rise like the willow tree. There’s a reason she’s my favorite— For she haunts her pleasures and cries all day, But seeps her sorrows into the ground till her spirit Rises back up through her veins. The rings of the tree reflect not just her age, but her strife. This woman has been broken. She’s crumbled yet rised. She never dies, only cries. The willow tree will always survive.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Willow
I wish you’d let the sky shine bright for you. It’s so blue outside, the good kind. Move the curtains to the side, sneak a glimpse, Sip the air slowly and whistle it out. Step carefully so you can hear the porch steps creak and feel the wood under your bare feet without worrying about the splinters. There aren’t any. Just come outside. The fields will part when the time is right, and the sky will illuminate the guiding side. And when you find that the earth can hold your weight, that the world won’t collapse when you confess your fate, you’ll see how the clouds shield you just the right way from the hard rays of the sun, but you can still see the glow. And it may time some time, your feet may burn and sore, Blister even, maybe, but time heals all wounds, I swear, Even the worst of heartaches. Even my heart is breathing again, slowly. It is pumping. Just consider that if glass shards can be glued back together, mirrors hung back on the wall for Snow White to get ready in, and the veins in my wrist sealed back up with love and rain, there is another day for you to see. I am not porcelain. I am weak, But every time I am broken to the ground, I rise like the willow tree. There’s a reason she’s my favorite— For she haunts her pleasures and cries all day, But seeps her sorrows into the ground till her spirit Rises back up through her veins. The rings of the tree reflect not just her age, but her strife. This woman has been broken. She’s crumbled yet rised. She never dies, only cries. The willow tree will always survive.
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I lost myself in the nightsky scaring me with it´s creatures and found a stranger in the sunrise blinding me with it´s shine and the red sky left me stained hiding my true colors it was when the ocean turned purple and the sky began to cry soaking me with it´s odor washing away my fragrance that the reflection in the ocean showed a stranger in me So scared of the night I hid myself becoming the spectator of my life watching without interacting silently in the back of my mind I lost myself in the night fearing it´s monsters but the shine of the moon brought me back and as the sun rised I finally saw I was the monster all along
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Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 7:56 AM UTC
I lost myself
My mother recently took me to another doctor she said, ‘her condition is becoming outrageous , she hasn’t laughed in a year, avoids any talking, never leaves the house until the night draws in. ’ And I think the sun should rather concern her. Burning things don’t make good companions. Bought a ticket for a train, northbound at night, my eyes hurt from the condolences of daylight. Went back south in September, I surrendered, had to promise to be good again and presentable. Indifferent on life, did I suffer from depression? It’s not been an illness but a philosophic decision. One Sunday, it was quiet during breakfast time,   somebody from town recently took their life. Rised brows behind the newspaper’s edges, secretly, I admire the courage and recklessness. But I act eager and am polite with relatives, at holiday occasions I behave and give kisses until one proposes a toast to life being a gift. I say nothing in exchange, I feel guilty to exist. It all changed one day, when I found me a lover. He sins for amusement while I sin to self punish. I love that he’s mortal, of a perishable texture, hope to be buried, rot with him in the graveyard. We agree on senselessness without any pity, he watches me fail life and thinks it’s poetic. We can’t hurt since there’s nothing to heal from. A physical love wich in it’s essence is platonic.
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Feb 9, 2022
Feb 9, 2022 at 5:54 PM UTC
Nihilist daughter
***Maybe it was the call of springtime, but the sweet melody of the flute seemed to bring the secret garden back to life...*** *She wore a dress of white lace. Whiter than the lace were her pearl earrings. Sleeping peacefully on a bed of thorns and roses. Cherry blossoms in her hair. One heavenly morning, a beautiful melody rised above the pine trees. The tune of the mysterious flute player was that, And the rose buds opened,         The nightingale began to tweet, The fountain was filled  with water         And the statue of an angel began to pray. Eyes of sapphire slowly opened. Dew drops on her lashes. The grass whispered her precious secrets to the silver bells that chimed as she sang her lullaby to him, through the gentle wind in the oak leaves. Every morning while the little kitten chased the pretty butterflies. But now, when the melody is gone and autumn faded her garden, she went to dream again, under the shade of the willow. Still their love song can be heard, where drooped roses wilt and swans swim on the shimmering pond, near the little wooden bridge.* ***The secret garden knew she loved him, for her laughter stirred the dried rose petals...***
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Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
The secret garden
I am not a poet. I am the air before a storm. The weak in your knees. The smile on your heart. I am. I am not a poet. I am the aftermath of sin. I am the godlike sworn into pages. Scripture is my tongue, to fold like weak genes That strike to be like matches I am beckoned fire. I am not a poet. I am not a believer. We were raised by the last unfortunately; I do not believe in “leaders” or “followers”, I do not believe in “society” or “democracy” This generation is lost. I do not believe in found. I do not believe in freedom. When we are only “free” to be everything but our souls. The truth is…I do not write poetry. I birth it whenever God needs a favor so When my pen bares fruit know it’s divine nature refined. I define nature. HOLD UP. WE define nature. Eve am I in the garden of Eden, feeding the Adam in my spirit That speaks in tongue, I taste the susurrus sounds swishing like a serpents swearing Bite into this forbidden, swallow sin, make ink stain of this metaphor On the fabric of your perception The truth is, I do not write. I create life that’s been a part of God’s plan Since sonogram; my divine right. I am not a poet. I am a contradiction. I am everything including nothing. I am the song the caged bird sings. Once it’s freed. I am the silence before a bomb. I simply do not believe. This generation was raised by the last, but I would rather raise hell Then praise heaven to be a place where the gates are too white to embrace the black Of the sin I’ve committed I am not a poet. I write because I want God to hear me. This Chose ink is the closest voice from heaven like, blessed cursive Curses curved like Sacred scribble Revised, I’ve rised, correction, raised. I revise like rewritten history; I’ve witness lies, yet mystery Lies within the truth, somehow. I’m no doctor, but if I were, I would prescribe patience. I just want God to hear me, I will listen…but for now I am sincerely seeking the God within self, I believe in Other.
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
I am everything, including nothing.
I am not a poet. I am the air before a storm. The weak in your knees. The smile on your heart. I am. I am not a poet. I am the aftermath of sin. I am the godlike sworn into pages. Scripture is my tongue, to fold like weak genes That strike to be like matches I am beckoned fire. I am not a poet. I am not a believer. We were raised by the last unfortunately; I do not believe in “leaders” or “followers”, I do not believe in “society” or “democracy” This generation is lost. I do not believe in found. I do not believe in freedom. When we are only “free” to be everything but our souls. The truth is…I do not write poetry. I birth it whenever God needs a favor so When my pen bares fruit know it’s divine nature refined. I define nature. HOLD UP. WE define nature. Eve am I in the garden of Eden, feeding the Adam in my spirit That speaks in tongue, I taste the susurrus sounds swishing like a serpents swearing Bite into this forbidden, swallow sin, make ink stain of this metaphor On the fabric of your perception The truth is, I do not write. I create life that’s been a part of God’s plan Since sonogram; my divine right. I am not a poet. I am a contradiction. I am everything including nothing. I am the song the caged bird sings. Once it’s freed. I am the silence before a bomb. I simply do not believe. This generation was raised by the last, but I would rather raise hell Then praise heaven to be a place where the gates are too white to embrace the black Of the sin I’ve committed I am not a poet. I write because I want God to hear me. This Chose ink is the closest voice from heaven like, blessed cursive Curses curved like Sacred scribble Revised, I’ve rised, correction, raised. I revise like rewritten history; I’ve witness lies, yet mystery Lies within the truth, somehow. I’m no doctor, but if I were, I would prescribe patience. I just want God to hear me, I will listen…but for now I am sincerely seeking the God within self, I believe in Other.
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49
Floating heads Means floating thoughts But to many floating thoughts Are to heavy to be floating And heavy thoughts Means a heavy head It hits the ground from where it rised so many times before maybe it can do it once more
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Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 8:51 AM UTC
Floating heads pt.2
You talk about corruption, and you spit words of destruction. But you won't offer redemption or even protection, for the youth of this nation, the people of this generation. Kids who know they could be better fathers or mothers than they have. Who know they should be better sisters or brothers, they want it so bad. They who know they need more than a job a McDonald's or WalMart, or some department store because they're so smart. High schoolers who dream of college but know they'll never get there with any of their knowledge. Who want to offer more to the world than just a ******** remark, but can't because they didn't get better marks on their report card, though they tried so hard. But their GPAs never rised, and they lied. And that Grade Point Average? It says "less than average." But a college professor, a "truth" confessor, wouldn't accept "less than average" unless it was written in binary code. Well that's a load, they're full of it. For every kid who's ever taken a hit, took a chance, but lost all of it. Because "the nation's best" never learn, they only care about what they earn day after day. It's sad, because some of us can't afford to live that way.
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
Less Than Average
Yes, everything here changes. Again the wheel is turning wresting with iron fingers out of my heart steaming blood. But You, I will not sell You for thirty silver coins. The dead ones do not change neither do the not born, the newly risen don’t – do not change! May the changing ones eat the dust of days, in order to survive. After Fridays Good, I know, The Sundays rise!
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Apr 22, 2011
Apr 22, 2011 at 8:04 AM UTC
The Newly Rised
T'was long ago way before Christ Sometime before Adam and Eve had rised He looked upon his creation feeling quite proud But something was missing; he could point it out in the crowd 'He' was Almighty, The Creator....God His creation in front of him was anything but flawed But it was too plain, like food without salt Suddenly God realised what was his fault It is said that the human body has the universe in them From iron to water, from gold to magnesium God had spent centuries designing this new creature He had given it His all, designed every feature Now as he stood admiring his work he felt a pang of guilt Would the liquids leak out? Nah, the skin was smoother than a quilt He'd forgotten something crucial which would make his creature unique The body was a tad bit common; Apes had the same physique All creatures had a brain, that's how they worked The brain helped them survive, as they stealthily lurked But what was that one thing that could build more than strength Which could build emotions up to any length It would build love, it would give pain It would create demons that just wanted to gain' It would latch onto the body like a parasitic insect But most important of all it would never be perfect He placed the beating red thing inside which would later be called a heart He stood there admiring his last piece of Art His work done, stood the Master of the Universe...God His creation in front oh him was now perfectly flawed...
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Perfectly Flawed
The world above her shined, And wonder filled her eyes. Nothing could mess with her mind. The clouds were reassigned, New creations rised, The brighter the world shined. She laid there as the clouds combined. She stayed calm and the moon cried, Nothing can mess with a simple mind. Just the peace of mind, That flies. The brighter the world shined. The sun fell from the behind The wonder appeared in her eyes. Nothing can mess with her mind. The night soon ended, Closing the girl's clock that controled her eyes, The world above her shined, Not even sleep can mess with her mind. ~Kaylie
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
The Sky
Nelson Mandela Was a man with a vision Even though it was a struggle He carried on with his mission He fought for justice He fought for equality He never gave up hope His presence was a pleasure for all to see He has now sadly passed away at the age of ninety-five But, his legacy will live on Many ideas roamed through his mind From dusk until dawn With inner strength and vitality He was able to overcome many obstacles He took a fall but, then he rised He kept his eyes on the prize He was a great leader He fought for the people He had a strong will Many hearts are now at a standstill
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
Nelson Mandela
Gonna tell you the story of dark That scary her dark shadow in the park Al birds move out after twilight Still someone whisper in night Encounter at front of the mirror Her crimson face make it horror I got dare, do ****** Mary thing Candle flickered, evil shadow wings I turned back with my shaky steps Candle blew off, darkness come ahead I shout and ran on the dark coridor A heavy breath behind, still no one's there No else taking breath in air Still someone walking on stairs Suddenly a burned face come across me Whispering my name and grinned on me I ran and hide in the room Scared so much wanna get rid from doom She cut my heart n trapped me in mirror That scary shadow killed me with scissor My girlfriend suddenly came with gloom Mournlly cried to see me dead in the room Sudden she heard a voice of crying She turned her face, a dark shadow flying The dark face killed the love of mine devil shadow grinning front of our sight At the end sun rised with its shine Evil shade vanished in the light She could killed her with her own actions she couldn't able to killed our connection
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Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 4:38 AM UTC
The dark room
Strange pieces Gather from all around. Put piece near piece, Then something takes Shape from the gritty ground. Pour sadness And nightly haunting thoughts in those remains, Then sprinkle tragedy in those dim needled veins. Suddenly, shadows came and took their same old place - Eyes as lucent phantasms and gloomy lips are carving a face. This messy view throws sounds, shaping a requiem; You see... This living corpse is me, It's just who I am. I've been laying there, for a while... Wished to revive, but didn't knew how. Whatever was called life, now it's called "denial". Memories are flowing back and I remember now ... I fainted. I know... I've failed. Time has forgotten me on its way and I painted Fears all over me, overwhelming me... Tears don't listen anymore - they're playing dead, They've lived forever in a sable For my soul lies in the dust. Hopes traded my breathing, for a second in redemption's gust 'Cause believing in pure forgiveness, I'm not able. My life's blink has been crucified... and I'd cry - But they haunted and trapped my wishes in gobbles. So here i dive In this place my "strange pieces" used to lie. My sight is empty and thoughts are dry - Dreams I cherished rised into cloudy bubbles So anxious to fly...
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Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 6:04 PM UTC
Strange pieces
Hey mum, Hey dad What happened Those sparks that were send Ends up dead tantrums and fights Aren't you tired curses and shouts Pain have rised Eyes filled with tears I'm watching with fear Falling apart like my home Without realizing I'm far too gone ~a.v.
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Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
Home.
What happened to us? we were so close, talking every night ´till the sun rised gone. I remember looking to you looking at me back with those green eyes and the kindness in your smile. But what happened my dear? why are we strangers now? what happened to that kiss so late at night? Now when I saw you walking by, you didn´t even notice me like it was all made up we were so close we were in love, how can a memory feel so lost? and there you are with her, they tell me you are in love. But I know better, I know you better or at least I thought so.
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
Forgotten
A portal appeared Thin line sheared Ripping the world As the end neared For cataclysm came Ragnarok Regained The gods they fell The mortals to blame Thus darkness came Descent into hell Lightnings they strike With storms that hail Some devils do call While others may fail Yet heroes do rise In light they shine Rising at the moment What fate defines Ready to battle To war they ride A shout TO ARMS! Their enemies do cry Some may flee And others do die The devil had felled A hero had rised The day was won Terra his bride
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 9:49 AM UTC
Ragnarok Regained
i thought maybe if I looked at you the way the stars see the moon then maybe you would look at me the way the earth follows the sun but the only reaction I received was how the moon saw the sun when it first rised fleeting and without a second glance
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Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
moon and stars
I kiss your lips. I bid you farewell. Knowing in my heart. I'll never see you any more. I remember all the time we shared. And the things together we went through. While knowing in my heart. I'm bidding you farewell. All the friends we knew was there. And tears rosed to some of their eyes. And strong as I tried to pretend. They even rised higher in mine. I never bought into , a man isn't suppose to cry. Cause here I am standing at the casket. Bidding someone I love goodbye. Sure, I'll see you again. Someone in the future. That's the way life seems to go. It's just this feeling. I won't be seeing you come through the door anymore. This is my last kiss. Upon your lovely face. But one thing I know. Your memory will never fade. As I bid you farewell.
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
I Bid You Farewell
At dawn I found a hollow girl, fair, with metal in her veins. She spoke of narrow hallways, with dew upon the doors. She warned of fading quickly, her soul poured upon the floor. She tugged and knotted at her hair, as she spoke of horrorful woes. She huffed, and sighed; it wasn't fair. Then she felt cold water on her toes. The shocking sting stunned her at first, yet the needles slowly rised. She hoped it wouldn't be the worst, but still the needles rised. They figured they couldn't mend her, leave her broken on the floor. There was nothing they could do before she'd pass through that door. "What else?" they'd ask the actors, "What speech could we write next?" They'd give her a special one and for this she'll be blessed. As they molded plaster and preened her oh so nice. They painted her a smile, and emerged her into ice.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
Falling Into Ice
Sing me song tell me all your love whisper me the sweetes thing and make my heart melt i love you since the moon rised upon us i love you but youll never know
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Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC
..
Once there was a man His heart was three sizes too small He tried to do anything he can To succeed and not fall His home was big It smelled like rotten food It was littered with cigs And a melancholy mood When he slept on his mattress his back was in pain He was always rushing, yet somehow always late The conversations between his friends were more like a game He always said he'd have a big house, more degrees and a family, that was his fate One morning, he watched the news without thought When he got to work him and half of his friends were let go He had a life planned out, and this was not in the plot He lost his house, his phone, no one stopped him from being caught out in the snow Now he was by himself for the first time in forever No t.v., no facebook, no office sounds Buy in this silence found his city looked better He never noticed the birds in the trees, the men and women on the train or how life abounds One day, a man asked him to take his sweater He said no one should be left cold He said I'll take you home but you've seen better The bank took my house and now it's sold So he spent the night at the shelter, no one looked at their phones And it didn't matter because the air was filled with laughter, songs and love He had never had less, he had never felt less alone And from this wholesomeness he rised above With the help of strangers he stopped having to beg But he never stopped giving, not for a day He knew so much, he could keep all his little earnings for himself instead He said I can't keep what I have without giving it away
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Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Beg
Once there was a man His heart was three sizes too small He tried to do anything he can To succeed and not fall His home was big It smelled like rotten food It was littered with cigs And a melancholy mood When he slept on his mattress his back was in pain He was always rushing, yet somehow always late The conversations between his friends were more like a game He always said he'd have a big house, more degrees and a family, that was his fate One morning, he watched the news without thought When he got to work him and half of his friends were let go He had a life planned out, and this was not in the plot He lost his house, his phone, no one stopped him from being caught out in the snow Now he was by himself for the first time in forever No t.v., no facebook, no office sounds Buy in this silence found his city looked better He never noticed the birds in the trees, the men and women on the train or how life abounds One day, a man asked him to take his sweater He said no one should be left cold He said I'll take you home but you've seen better The bank took my house and now it's sold So he spent the night at the shelter, no one looked at their phones And it didn't matter because the air was filled with laughter, songs and love He had never had less, he had never felt less alone And from this wholesomeness he rised above With the help of strangers he stopped having to beg But he never stopped giving, not for a day He knew so much, he could keep all his little earnings for himself instead He said I can't keep what I have without giving it away
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