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"scrached" poems
On a hilltop underneath stars I am; A thought that keps us all restless I have. This little thing may I tell? I scrached my knees, on them I fell… Down I just sat, trying to figure all passed, present and yet to be bred. Everytime I blink my eyes, the century just passes by. Voiceless in my throat I feel a shout, time just gets dried out. Here in my time and place, I’m now, only now with this face. Can we really grasp that? They all say, seize that moment, do it when you can, so you don’t feel like you fell. But chasing it, I think it’s a pointless thing; You are not with your current face if you are moving in a non-existing pace. Wear it once, just let it be, wear the rhythm and you’ll see. There is only right now. Now is a needle, your hands that hold. What was and is to come is just the wool; It will be gone one day, it will fade, but atleast you will be glad of what you made. One day your skin gets thick; And the other, flesheaters are dining on your hip. On the moment you hold, you will never get bored and old. Embrace it, let it flow in, in, up until your chin. Get your head up for a while; In the night there is really something wild. Dream along a falling star; Live that dream with every pump of your heart. You can not seize the moment. The moment seizes you.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
The Moment Seizes Us
The poet doodeling doodel Dee doodel dumb ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Inspired by a dead mans words I scrached my mind to find a tear I serched my heart for creativity & my soul for anger past shallow I fall to mediocre phressed nonesece. a reddle that makes me feel at home an ink stain on a blank page like the person I'm not it's nolonger me DoOdel Dee DOodel doo Doodel DumB
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Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 2:06 PM UTC
The poet doodeling
The poet doodeling doodel Dee doodel dumb ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~              Inspired by a dead mans words           I scrached my mind to find a tear             I serched my heart for creativity                      & my soul for anger past shallow I fall to mediocre phressed nonesece.                        a reddle that makes me feel at home                an ink stain on a blank page                    like the person I'm not                             it's nolonger me    DoOdel Dee DOodel doo Doodel DumB
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Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 9:43 PM UTC
The poet doodeling