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I wrap your love about me like a cloak of warmest down,
your words of kindness fill my aching soul.
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In the "soup kitchen" there is no greater cost than the gift of humility.
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The anger rushes through her veins. The love that once flowed, none remains.
by xPsychoticxRealityx
32 lines, 1 comment,
on Oct 17 10:32 AM. In Other, Pain, Sad, Personal, Life, More, Suicidal, Enemy, Reflections
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First memory is dark salted hair around shining, mischievous eyes,
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So many are the hours that I find
the thoughts of what can be and what has gone
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Soft silent echoes render forth a colored canvas’ warning.
Upon my soul, I’d like to know what new day will be dawning?
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Many times life has pulled the rug or slapped me down.
I falter, then rise up to face the tasks presenting.
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Sand. Remnants of mountains
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Ripples outward spread from such a casual loving touch
to souls once dominated by a broken-hearted trust.
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Nothing gives solace and sorrow exactly as pines do:
the soft swish in the cold wind
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My soul delights in quiet reflection
Upon all the promise of God's unforgetfulness
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Is it possible
For a path to be both wise and wrong?
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The poems appear like pictures
neatly organized
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and the silence was so complete unbearable...
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reflective irises blinding this, that, into the edge of every snowflake I see; delve and breathe. Because we are winding, into one spasm. One jerk of the shoulder, a single shattered tear.
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My days cycle onward; recrudescence recurs.
Again, the ineffectual questioning:
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Ah. Small nuances of ancient angst:
be it concerto, rodeo, museum ...
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I hear you, incessantly reminding me
by The Rainbows Mind
23 lines, 5 comments,
on Nov 14 2:34 PM 2008. In senses, soul, body, mind, metaphor, self, thoughts, reflections, fear, love
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Some have shared with me that there'd be days like this.
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The demons they haunt me, Stalking me by night.
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Turns away from the sunrise
Holds her hands out to the fireflies…
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This moment
to stop and think
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A traitor is present in the mist
and I have clenched only a gist
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The pale brown paint still took
Proud, glistening as-good-as-new
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Thrown, abandoned
A lit cigarette in the grass
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Spring day in winter.
Where have all the seasons gone?
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I cannot say when the change came
that the agony of loss turned to gain
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Love and despair--
how quickly one can shade
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Whether it is changing
jobs or schools or a
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Stepping outside the box
of all that was mundane
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The lamplight weakens and the eyes are dimming/Mocking the ceaseless vigil the faithful keep/In vain is their toil, like clutching at wind/
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The rewound clock, the dead reborn; our muscles withered in the trying,
These atoms of our skin are dry enough to cast among the dying.
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Inhale the toxic air,
Drop the pill,
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Seeing it through a window.
by dueprocess88
53 lines, 2 comments,
on Dec 2 4:16 PM 2007. In Angst, Dark, Life, Other, Pain, Personal, Sad, Thoughts, Weird, Reflections
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Fresh are the thoughts churning new life
with reasons not to be still ...
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I fly across an empty landscape, in this dream of mine
I fly and I fly, taking no notice of the passage of time
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You look at broken mirrors
and think aloud, "I'm worthless"
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life in the lane, / is never the game / hard at the plane / is always the same. / yearning for food / placed on the mat / a need to be rude / is never like that. / so pick up the pace / and get out of here
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I thought I was this person, / Could handle it all. / Not knowing that my only protection / Came from an invisible wall. / My life would co
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I give much consideration / To what I cannot see / Each day brings pure elation / For one more chance to be. / Death and Desolation / True terror and tragedy / Strike every congregation / No
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They thought he was a Scarecrow, / that cold Wyoming night. / A tiny, tortured shadow, / beneath the gray moon-light, / impaled against the
by Rainfish
47 lines,
on May 21 1:27 AM 2007. In society, homophobia, youth, violence, life, sad, reflections, bigotry, religion, hate
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Middle-age men use angry words, / Young men fire weapons, / Grandparents lower grandchildren / into hungry graves meant only for their reti
by Rainfish
18 lines,
on May 21 12:45 AM 2007. In war, reflections, life, death, dark, other, society, pain, spiritual, sad, thoughts
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The Universe doesn’t think you’re special / no gods are there to mirror your ego; / A stalk of celery; a clump of pond scum; / a field mou
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reflections on a past life...
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bleak morning shiver / splashes trailing tears / on my windowpane / / who cries with me ... a cloud, a tree? / who sends such empathy? /
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soft sunlight / warms my heart / as i attempt to stare / into its depths / / cerulean ocean / laps against the shore / as i smile down at it / and marvel / / black beetles / scuttling along the ground
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