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"trew" poems
connected with love there lais the **** and itchi as a dard , a poisonous and **** pain love is a heartbreak, pain is refreshing, as an addicted to feel, don't specting but pain and spittings, then the suffering, after all happens, they love me, back after the hurt, i don't look back, used to , feeling their love, after i'm trew like an insomniac, feeling the love after the hurt like a heartless man, specting some brave femme, that holds mi hand, DURING, not after is over, AFTER THE SPITS AND THE HATE, y never look back. c'est tout c'est tout. but love is all over after i clean my face i can't feel it no more, pride or wise, who knows , who . no regrets, im lucky , for trie to love, maybe is not love , is only passion, and pain, like a ****** or a fool who knows, could i love her yes should i love her NO respect and compassion, are essential, should i no, could i, maybe i can't, not being is a curse, in some way not being was my cruce, and can't use it as a crutch and my curse sting like the bugs for the creeps system, like a cyborg, with a camera, in my eye, and a phone, in my ear and my *** maybe cyborgs, can't be loved , in the right time, or cowardness winns,and is a rule, in the circles of hate, some wankers are. some peace and privacy, would be cool my life is like nutshell the only one of y kind no common points, all alone nothing cost, all is easy, love, even hate, physics, and humanity, more human than humans. in the end, love probes he's there, watching, threw his strings, should i could i who knows, who knows connected, and painful is the road, LOOKING SOMETHING SWEET, AS STRAWBERRY MARMALADE, ON HER **** BODY but is only pain what's left, and the spits on my face. should i maybe, but i can't. after all the pain, and the smile, on the creeps faces, but connected is the pain, with the trie to love, but i can't love the spits on my face. could i, who knows who knows. pride or wise, love o hate, respect is essential, in everything, love or hate. respect is what's left, should y love the one who help that **** pride or wise, who knows respect is all is left. respect is love, pain is not, and know is all what's left. sweet and itchi **** *** hell, like the venom, of the snake , is that old, **** heart pain.
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
PAIN
connected with love there lais the **** and itchi as a dard , a poisonous and **** pain love is a heartbreak, pain is refreshing, as an addicted to feel, don't specting but pain and spittings, then the suffering, after all happens, they love me, back after the hurt, i don't look back, used to , feeling their love, after i'm trew like an insomniac, feeling the love after the hurt like a heartless man, specting some brave femme, that holds mi hand, DURING, not after is over, AFTER THE SPITS AND THE HATE, y never look back. c'est tout c'est tout. but love is all over after i clean my face i can't feel it no more, pride or wise, who knows , who . no regrets, im lucky , for trie to love, maybe is not love , is only passion, and pain, like a ****** or a fool who knows, could i love her yes should i love her NO respect and compassion, are essential, should i no, could i, maybe i can't, not being is a curse, in some way not being was my cruce, and can't use it as a crutch and my curse sting like the bugs for the creeps system, like a cyborg, with a camera, in my eye, and a phone, in my ear and my *** maybe cyborgs, can't be loved , in the right time, or cowardness winns,and is a rule, in the circles of hate, some wankers are. some peace and privacy, would be cool my life is like nutshell the only one of y kind no common points, all alone nothing cost, all is easy, love, even hate, physics, and humanity, more human than humans. in the end, love probes he's there, watching, threw his strings, should i could i who knows, who knows connected, and painful is the road, LOOKING SOMETHING SWEET, AS STRAWBERRY MARMALADE, ON HER **** BODY but is only pain what's left, and the spits on my face. should i maybe, but i can't. after all the pain, and the smile, on the creeps faces, but connected is the pain, with the trie to love, but i can't love the spits on my face. could i, who knows who knows. pride or wise, love o hate, respect is essential, in everything, love or hate. respect is what's left, should y love the one who help that **** pride or wise, who knows respect is all is left. respect is love, pain is not, and know is all what's left. sweet and itchi **** *** hell, like the venom, of the snake , is that old, **** heart pain.
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--- @@ @@ you @@ @@ trew out @@ @@ his heart like @@ @@ a stone clogging your @@ @@ green field of dreams @@ @@ i found it cracked open on @@ @@ my yellow brick road @@ @@ wouldn't you know @@ @@ it was an amethyst @@ @@ GEODE @@ @@
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
finders keepers
Written by Bad Baby When I look up above the sky I see you paint it as you fly With lines of poison that you trew You take away my skies of blue And when it rains it falls on me The leaves, the trees, we die you see Why do you **** us from up above? Down here on earth there's so much LOVE They're not your skies to take the blue I told The Father, He always knew So now, you know, you cannot hide For what you sprayed up in my sky Bad Baby (C) 8/6/2015 Posted by SoulSurvivor
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Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
Skies of Blue
I burned my fingers On you But more than that On how much I trusted you Hell it wasn't just the fingers It was fingers all the way To my elbows And my bare feet All the way to my knees Such was my trust in you And in my own estimation Of who you are. There's never just one to blame It's always the two I guess I trew myself at you And that's fine But it would take forever For me to do it again With full confindence That you'd catch me.
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
BURN!
His fingertips, stroking my face. My hands, trew his hair. His arms, around my waist. My body, pushed against his. His breath, loudly in my neck. My eyes, looking into his soul. His lips, tasting my love. Thats what I imagine how real love will feel like anyways.
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
what love will feel like
Scrolling through all the pictures We took of ourselves All up to no good What kind other shenanigans Could we still have gotten Ourselves in? For each insult We had a laugh For each injustice We had a sarcastic remark The memories flow through me The pain inflicted upon us And all the tears that flowed As a result of chaos. We broke rules and vows The vows friends make We broke each other's hearts And we broke mindsets Only to glue them back together In the right order this time. *But beneath this all There was something deeply personal and unrelated...* I trew a rock and an insult Through the glass That protected your ivory tower I hated you for all the wrong reasons And barricated myself in For all the right reasons But then when I lost The will and the strength To go through all the details again The continuous rambling that goes through my brain I found myself disarmed In the fact that when it comes down to it I just got my heart broken And threw in my own windows In the process of it all Because I couldn't break any more of yours The screams of pain And the tears of sorrow Have emerged from beneath the anger And I have nothing left To arm myself with against you.
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Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Beneath it all
I once heard there is a city Where everyone has a different color And you could see a light green boy Or a deep purple lady Walking down the street. So I bought myself a ticket To color city, just one way Today I bought myself a ticket And trew off all my shame. I want to show my colors freely In the city where they're okay.
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Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 5:51 PM UTC
The color city
GOLDEN DAYS GONE BY JONALYN CAJEFE It was good to hear you laugh again When i called you on the phone For it took me back to days gone by When the bushland was our home.  The bush became our homestead It mothered us as well And we would laugh each day away Till the years began to tell.  Remember the station truck we bogged In the middle of the night?  When you stepped in a muddy hole And sank right out of sight.  The time that my bike's trew me And i landed on my head?  You stood around without a sound Quite sure that i was dead. But i slowly raised a dusty eyelid And gave you a silly grin Then you cracked a joke and caught the moke And legged me on again.  The time when a young bull chased me And i stumbled and fell Then it kicked me and it horned me And stomped on me as well.  Or the day when we took that bucker  To the soft sand in the creek Then ******** the two of us climbed on We laugh for a ****** week.  Remember when we met those Sheila's  In a pub whilst on a spree?  We said we owned a station  In the Northern territory.  That i was a young lord so and so And you some Arab princess  But i dont think they believed us For we haven't seen em since.  Or when we loaded our bike's up our pack Getting ready for a trip And a great red hornet came along  And stung her on the hip.! Our swags and bags all went flying Straight up towards the sky And ive never seen a bucker since That could buck so ****** high.  Yes they were good old days alright!  Those golden days gone by When we were mates together Yeahh ****** good mates  You and I... ~J. C~
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Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
GOLDEN DAYS GONE BY
GOLDEN DAYS GONE BY JONALYN CAJEFE It was good to hear you laugh again When i called you on the phone For it took me back to days gone by When the bushland was our home.  The bush became our homestead It mothered us as well And we would laugh each day away Till the years began to tell.  Remember the station truck we bogged In the middle of the night?  When you stepped in a muddy hole And sank right out of sight.  The time that my bike's trew me And i landed on my head?  You stood around without a sound Quite sure that i was dead. But i slowly raised a dusty eyelid And gave you a silly grin Then you cracked a joke and caught the moke And legged me on again.  The time when a young bull chased me And i stumbled and fell Then it kicked me and it horned me And stomped on me as well.  Or the day when we took that bucker  To the soft sand in the creek Then ******** the two of us climbed on We laugh for a ****** week.  Remember when we met those Sheila's  In a pub whilst on a spree?  We said we owned a station  In the Northern territory.  That i was a young lord so and so And you some Arab princess  But i dont think they believed us For we haven't seen em since.  Or when we loaded our bike's up our pack Getting ready for a trip And a great red hornet came along  And stung her on the hip.! Our swags and bags all went flying Straight up towards the sky And ive never seen a bucker since That could buck so ****** high.  Yes they were good old days alright!  Those golden days gone by When we were mates together Yeahh ****** good mates  You and I... ~J. C~
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