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Thy Fire burns her heart tonight
Heavy burdens own the fight
Sleep is no option now
Her dreams no longer see the light
Darkness around the corner
Now in plain sight

Thy fire burns his heart tonight
Mistakes call from the bend
Memories shattered, now broken glass
Love the infamous mustard gas
His purpose gone, now a lonely knight
Life the beginning and the end

The war of love
Life’s precious game
Creates illusions inside our brains
Till there is no more left to gain
Thy fire burns their hearts tonight.
The time that I was in the tenth grade in high school, I started to write poetry and stories. I never forgotten when someone in my life made me feel like this, like a weak person that is been very hurtful to me.

Even though that we went to our separate ways, it doesn't change the pain away. Like one time me and them always share poetry and them threw me away and she threw the friendship necklace away and I never forget what it looks like.

I like to put an example of of old poem that I could try to remember. It was about true friendship and never will break away.

'When I first met you,
We were enemies and become best friends,
We grew until something bad happened,
And we came back together,
Our friendship will last forever,
True friends tells each other the truth and never lie to each other,
That why we are indescribable.'

I was hurt when I saw this and it made me feel so weak in my life and sometimes that I don't know why I am here anyways?

I had people in my life that I was been bullied and I been thrown away like no one cares or sees my problems.

Well it's life and no one knows why. I don't know why things happens.

More reasons why I am like this is that my personality are strange and weird, and mostly of my AntiSocial life. Well depression,
anxiety, eating disorder, and others that I have that made me what I am.

I don't have many friends physical cause I don't go out much like I stay home all the time. That my life. My isolation that my family made me feel worse and I don't know why this happens to me between them and me?

I don't deserve this for what I get from them, some of my family doesn't talk to me. They would be a work, be busy or doing something that I don't know about. I want to be free and I been hurt too many times and I wish that I get out of here where I live at and moved on. My past still haunts me since I was 4 years old.

I guess I deserve for what I get for granted. :(
This isn't a poem but the next one will. This is something that you all need to know the reason why I make very dark poems, and other things.
Ideally
Forever means
Don't give up
Rarely
It is let go

Let go
With blessings
What is not
Yours

Honestly
Nobody owe nobody
Yet
Love is love
Genre: Observational
Theme: When nothing matters
you're going to
accidentally switch
our socks —
wear my navy blues
instead of your black ones.
across blue, white
and warm wooden tables
at restaurants,
we will make
inside jokes
for a lifetime.
in one of our summers
you will get yourself
many linen shirts
and i am
going to be
pleasantly
surprised.
didn't think
you could look
even more
breathtaking.
there will be succulents,
coffee cups on the floor,
and some jobs
that we will complain about.
writer's blocks,
a few mid-life crises
and arguments about
what we need from life.
there will be a lot of life.
moments of
"i can't believe how happy
i am"
times,
staying home
eating fancy ramen
and listening to
Take On Me
over again,
and loving
every bit.
and across tables,
midst writer's block,
inside jokes
and coffee,
i'm going to
fall in love
with you
a little bit.
someday,
years later
you're going to
accidentally switch
our socks
again —
navy blues to black.
and we'd
never know.
The hands
spin.
Every day.
Day after
day they
spin.
Relentless.
Morning.
Noon.
Night.
Relentless.
Planet spins.
Relentlessly
it spins.
Time
spinning,
fritting it
all away.
Can’t be
stopped.
Can’t hold
the hands.
Impossible to
hold the hands,
stop the clock.
Impossible.
Monotonous,
relentless,
regularity.
Grabbing 
­by the scruff,
dragging 
all along
for the ride.
Spinning faster,
the hands
spin faster.
Furiously
spinning.
The ride will
not stop,
will not
stop
till the
end.
Then
it happens.
The hands
seize,
stop spinning.
Time’s up!
Het stuit me tegen de borst
dat voeden in het openbaar
met luid en regen bloeddorst-
ig wordt onthaald als raar.

Voor mezelf hoeft niets per se,
'k hou gewoon liefst iedereen tevree
al weet ik dat dat eigenlijk niet kan.
Noem me maar naïef of halve man.

Ik probeer te kiezen wat ik mij laat deren,
me slechts inwendig af te weren.
Ik ben hier om bij te leren, als zovelen,
niet om appels of muilperen
uit te delen.
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