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I lay here, Night after night,
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I had a friend who hated potential, Said it made him feel superficial.
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I'm not trying to be Anyone else but Me,
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I feel you walking beside me, But your face I cannot see.
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Who am I that I should live In the glory of all He did?
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Hey man,
whats on your mind?
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Turn yourself around and face the
silent world that dares you,
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I'm unable to bite my tongue
Yet I struggle for words
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There is a certain uncertainty between the lines
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Oh, my love, your use of quatrains
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I swim the sky on the celestial current
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Good mourning, men!
It's another wonderful
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Ripping out my hair in handfuls,
I laugh maniacally as it falls in
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His hands were cold
Upon my body As I
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There I was
Beneath the sky
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In between daydreams
I watch the world pass by,
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I wish I was able to play guitar,
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Oh, what torchure is this, that I cannot reach out
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When I woke up
I wasnt expecting
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They tell me that I'm crazy - I say it
comes naturally,
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I’ll write all of my words down just for you So you can get a glimpse
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I've always had to work really hard to get my words out right, and people have always impatient with me. However, one man came into my life
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Just a thought. Do what you want with it.
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Oh My Gosh, I know, right?!
Like, that time when I....uh....
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You drop your seed
in a monotonous world,
by UnderThePickleTree
51 lines, 6 comments,
on Aug 30 1:51 AM 2008. In Thoughts, Nature, Society, Angst, Death, Sadness, Anger, Abstract, Children, Humanity
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This is, obviously, an old poem.
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Awkward silences at the peak of afternoon, Staring inexcusably as beads of sweat
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Lose yourself in the dream of bohemia As the cool morning air caresses
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Blank pages are inviting Yet I find them somewhat frightening
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I've tried to put my life in rhyme
and simply focus on the music
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I'll tell you what it is-
it's a cup of coffee
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The "creative process"....processed creativity?
Synthetic originality - Industry.
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Liberate me from myself.
I hate the person I've become.
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