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"thiny" poems
he is sitting still a pen in his hand a paper on the desk he wants to write he can't think of anything he searches trough his pockets he takes a cigaret he lights it he watches smoke make circles: seeing the new universe of unsaid and untold the drop of ink falls on the paper now,the story can unfold. the ink spreads on a sheet starts to form a spider with thiny legs with six white eyes made of smeared blue ink it inlarges it dances it does what ever he wants it to do.. then it dies, with a movement of his pen it reincarnates with the other one it's so fun when you can play with life and death. he disperse the smoke circle, with no trouble or regret. all the time i stood watching the way the story was made of a spider from disperse he puts a dot to end the thought what a strange mind he has
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
watching trough the keyhole
i am sorry : for all the fairy tales i won't read to you for all the years we won't be spending together for all of your cries i won't listen to for all of the laughter i won't capture in photos for all of your fears i won't chase away for all of your tears i won't wipe away for all the good times we won't be having for all the false tales you wont be scolded for for all the hearts you'd break and get in trouble for all of your wrongs that i won't fix for your first words that you'd say and i won't be able to hear for your sticky fingers and figures of clay i am going to miss * this would be the day you should have been born **i am sorry i haven't find a way i would have been happiest if i could hold your thiny hand and wish you all of the happiness that is today**
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:21 AM UTC
From a girl : my child
Millions of thiny,shiny lights illuminate this town. the air smells of snow. Preparations for christmas are seen in windows. My heart feels very cold. I am walking in this windy town far away from home. with hands in my pockets in a place where i am alone.
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
New town