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Laying here battered and broken, I realize something...
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It is powerful and loving, like the strongest white magick...
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Don't be afraid... we'll be together!
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This is a perfect reflection of that nasty time I was having with life then.
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A look back, a stroll down memory lane... and changes too numerous to count.
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A thousand eyes upon meIn one black sky,Twinkling, winking,High above my soul.Somewhere out thereI hear a sound,It's the sound of ev
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I see the messages written on the wall,White against the brown brick,Strong against my convictions.These words here, they are dre
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My mind is filled to the girth
With wisping thoughts and day dreams
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Have you ever stood still
And felt the world twirl around you?
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Among the plans of this God's world,
A reason to go on each day.
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Walking through the mist
Hiding feelings unexplained,
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Are you really there?
Have I, all this time,
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Open to all things unreal,Long ago forgotten,Never really loved,I stand here alone,Waiting in the open circle.The forest here is thick<B
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Along the valley floor,
Mingled with the moss,
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Somewhere along the path, the rains stopped.
And somewhere further down the road,
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And what if the sky were to fall,
Blue chunks raining down upon us
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I walk along the riverside
And listen to the wind's
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The sun sets off in the distance
Somewhere behind the whispy rain clouds
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Sometime closer to never
I guess that sound will become
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Strap on that bullet proof vest
And load up your shiny new pistol;
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You can't be a racist,
We're different shades of brown.
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The world would still exist
And function without us here.
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All that is left is here...in this red cup...in ashes.
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Don't ask me how I feel;
I feel loud.
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Poem written a few months after 9/11/01 about the WTC
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My heart, my flesh, my spoken word, My mortal soul that did depart; To write a song so strong That it seeps out it's own vanity.
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Somewhere, sometime, I may locate myself,
Among the circles and webs
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I want you to love me With everything you have, The way I feel for you. But I can't tell you.
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What once was dead is again alive
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The imaginery hands are warm
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Here I sit, staring at me, Words written on a computer screen
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Her love was just too much. A pre-written poem about a poem.
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