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Pluck the dead bits from me Those parts you do not want
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O horse dung
Vibrant, fibrous, and pungent
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I see you’ve seen me standing
With my hands in the oven
by aysia222
46 lines,
on Feb 11 8:31 AM 2008
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one of my first real poems, from grade 7. just thought i'd post it. why not?
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Remember the winter
Years ago
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I had food poisoning? It was during a band retreat? I couldn't play my sax? I was bitter?
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Snow whispers wetly
Across my cheeks and
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Time / That horrid / Manipulative / Traitor who / Longs / For the / End.
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Too tired to sleep / Too hungry to eat / Too nervous to run / Too fearful to hide / A robot walk / Into a room / Instantly bombarded / With
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The day I knew that / You might die / I did not sleep / But cried and cried / It wasn't like the / Other times / When tears did not / Form
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Like a happy father / On his deathday / You proudly walk the streets. / Pink nails flash / Teeth glitter in grins / You walk past the guys / Hips swinging / Hair flicking / Heels clicking / Down the catwalk
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Spiderweb cracks
Across glass
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I was bored. What else was I supposed to do? The best creativity comes from boredom...
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Curse him.
Him with his lies,
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Black. Everything’s black.
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should we always listen to our parents? do they always know whats best for us?
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Sunshine and flowers
Drift through my mind,
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Periwinkle-blue and swirly
Hazy through the smoke.
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It holds you spellbound, breathless,
Begging for more.
by aysia222
15 lines, 1 comment,
on Jan 8 11:24 PM 2006. In Love
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As I lay here on my bed,
Waiting for the sun to rise,
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I am an island.
Floating, alone,
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