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he thinks i was that man,
because of my faith,
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i dont remember the ghosts of that day
i remember the man he was
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Darkness hemorrhages,
hiding shadows shift in terror
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Poetry is composed
in bed
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my life as told in a prose
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I did not cut deep welts or lines
I'm more creative than those fiends.
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End of day has come End of day has come
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A three line stanza style poem, with loose rhyming. I hope you enjoy!
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sucking in the sands of sanity’s sorrow
from the deserts of decaying dung
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Whisper in the wind, and tell me what you feel? who you think you thought were and what we believe is real.....
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I wrote this about the recent passing of my mother, Annette. She was a rock, kind and
loving, my confidant and best friend - a Godly woma
by BrownEyedGirl575
96 lines,
on Jul 19 1:59 PM. In Sadness, Death, Illness, Disease, Dying, Thoughts, Deep, Angst, Depression, Personal
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What is life to you? A long oddesey of lessons waiting to be ventured upon, or a place where anything that's possible is plausible? I see things as one, understand that one thing can be the exact same inner entity as somethin
by LossRoss
0 lines, 2 comments,
on Jul 14 12:48 PM. In Deep
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Silvered sands
shimmer through sockets
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1. What do others find Attractive about you? -- I don't know why people find me attractive, as I really don't see it myself. However, I get complimented on my hair, my eyes (even though I'm partially sighted and they wobble a
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You crawl, you’re fucking sickening I don’t want you
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I'm writing you this poem instead of writing you a letter,
to let you know: I still think of you even though we're not together.
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This pain that i feel will never go away I'm crying out for help but people never lisen becouse
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Separated by an invisible wall.
Divided. Alone in a sea of souls.
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You all know that nice feelign you get when someone says something good about you.
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Where is my wish that fell off the edge of a shooting star I've wasted years building the woman I am
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Searching for my center, desperately trying to find it.
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o1.
Against my legs, I felt his head move and I smiled. There was something about the way he slept that almost reminded me of rainstorms i
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She just sits in the corner, keeping her head down.
She couldn’t care less about what happens.
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