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CA Smith Mar 2018
The woodcarver
Chips away at his creation
The old, steady hands
Crafting something of perfection
Each wood shaving falling away,
piece by piece,
gives way to a more and more beautiful masterpiece.
But halfway through,
he sits, and he rests.
The creation still stands on the workbench, incomplete.
Time goes on,
and on, and on…. yet the unhatched egg of a figurine still remains.
And one day, the carver again takes it into his hands.
“Finally, your time has come”
He sits back, and he widdles, and widdles….and widdles.
The wooden sculpture at last takes its final form.
And although it was finished last,
and he had made hundreds of items in the past,
the piece that took the longest,
was much more precious than any other piece he had ever made before.
Natalie Perez Jul 2013
Are you ever  so unsure about your feelings for someone? Like you might love them so much that it drives you to hate them with all your being?  The desire to crash your lips against theirs repulsing you to the point that it slowly widdles your brain into a mixingpot of emotions of both love and loath  
n.p.
Infamous one Nov 2018
If I could make it right I would
Really want to call and check up
My pride won't allow me to do so
Miss those moments the good times
Sad we all grew apart we use to be close
Seen great in others and saw nothing in me
Fighting to stay but they don't want me
Went away got all the blame forgotten
Choices were made not the scapegoat moved on
Sobered up not the same person
How you remember me
Not sure how to feel or think anymore
Changed my behavior my way to apologise
You might hold a grudge against someone
I'm not anymore let go of the past
Those gut feeling is relieved
The guilt widdles away feeling saved
Trying to live be free for me find closure
Didn't want to lose it all never ready to let go
Just want to get it all back make it right
Be better feel whole glow from within
Not like I'm trapped in a deep dark hole
Jordan Mar 2020
Death is a carpenter that slowly widdles you down to nothing
We sing the songs of prophets never questioning their validity until it’s too late
Plunge me into darkness and if I return mark me as a king

— The End —