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The bitter taste of regret sours my mouth as I wait for you to meet my eyes.
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A tear rolls down the infant's cheek, as everything around him crumbled and burned. The ceiling caved in and the walls turned to ashes. Never had there been such a vicious fire in their suburban town before. In that house, th
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'we have such plans for you honey," they always said,
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sometimes
when i'm through pretending,
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Panic speeds through my veins.
I spin around so violently
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bones protruding skin barely stretching
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the black water is hundreds of feet below
taunting, inviting, menacing.
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paled skin sags off shrunken cheeks feet drag against the dusty floor
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Panic set her heart thudding
As liquid trickled down her legs
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your golden eyes reflect the anguish on my face
i want to search your soul for the answers
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I don’t want to have regrets I want to live each moment
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i once wrote poetry about him
how i pined for him each day
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So I guess you'll never know That I love you.
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Live
your life with arms wide open.
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If we had been struck by an asteroid
And imploded within ourselves
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"Dear Mommy,
I know your secret.
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Thunder strikes the very core of my being
Rippling a shiver through my drenched body
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I took a running jump over a mountain
Because I thought I could fly.
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1,036 poets are online right this second
recording their memories, preserving their days
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the puppy in the basement
is crying out for me
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living on the moon
my life here will bloom
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i'm damaged aren't we all?
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why, JUST why
must these stupid disasters happen to us?
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i lay my head down so you can see my scars
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why am i so frustrated with my writing?
why can't anything good come from my thoughts?
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i have cried too many days for you
i have written countless songs for you
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Feared and harsh, the school headmaster ruled Nobody spoke a word against her, lest they lose their unruly tongue.
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the walls of my box
keep me from the outside
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inside these metal teeth i am bound
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an auditorium filled with fallen angels
looking for the red-ticket item, redemption
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Once upon a time I wished for peace
In a world that shredded dreams for the unsuccessful dreamer
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I wouldn't call it an obsession
More of a dedicated passion, per se
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When I first learned about the unfairness of the world,
I was four years old, running from the boy across the way.
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Are you deaf ? If you've forgotten how to listen
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