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Zach Smith Jan 2011
The bluest Monday
Of the month
Could not teach
Me to
Understand,

The ways my
Words could
Bend and twist,
And simply
Slip away
January 17th, 2011.
Zach Smith Jul 2010
Blinded by your
complete insanity,
you wonder to
yourself:

Why do they
hate me?
In High School,
Democracy is dead.
Zach Smith Aug 2010
Gather all of
our stupid dreams
together in
a bag

And leave me
be, for
sanity is a
cruel mistress
Zach Smith Jul 2010
What is inspiration?
Answer me this
Is it a creature,
long since dead?

Is it something
that comes and
goes with time
and age?

Or are we
ourselves inspiration?
Or are we cruelty?

An evil thing,
filled with hopeless
dread.

I know not
what inspiration is,
but I seek it,
and all it's
wonderful dreams.
Zach Smith Sep 2010
These melancholy
days pass by
like broken dreams
in a stream

I stare out
at the window
and wonder,

When will
this all be
over?
(8-30-10)
I was originally going to title this poem "Who are we?", but ended up changing when the poem started sounding different than I had planned it to.
Zach Smith Sep 2010
Things never
start out
normally

Or ever
end well
with me

But I
never
expected a
demise like
this
(9-3-10)
Zach Smith Mar 2010
That smile
Oh, that cruel, cruel smile
You will never forget it
Nobody ever does

He was the melancholy writer
A quiet young man,
sitting alone in a cafe
on the corner

You loved him,
and he loved you
And for a short while,
He became the confident writer

But you ended it
And now,
He writes of you
Day and night

Cruel, cruel things
Just like that
terribly
cruel Smile
Zach Smith Aug 2010
Today I thought
About the
old days and
how much I missed
that smile spread
across her
lovely lips

Oh to go
back to
those days,
where our love
was free and
the birds did
sing of a
world that
has now fallen
dead
(8-9-10)
Zach Smith Aug 2010
She stole away
my heart,
like many a thing

And oh, how I
wished to steal
her's away too
(8-5-10)

— The End —