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Waves Crash Down
Feel the weights of the tide, Like the whispering hands, Drag you away; pull you under. Seeking air, you tread harder. Hear the sounds of life carrying on, They draw further, further away. Strain to hear, just whispers now, And you scream to feel alive. Hear your killer sing your name, The hour is almost upon you. Release…
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Pride found this on the net
Pride – “My Name is Pride” poem by Beth Moore My name is Pride. I am a cheater. I cheat you of your God-given destiny… because you demand your own way. I cheat you of contentment… because you “deserve better than this.” I cheat you of knowledge… because you already know it all. I cheat you of healing… because you are too…
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You keep saying I will be ok
As God watches is it ok with him when you taunt a person for your needs of power of fame when you plot to steal not caring whom you defraud the innocent bias friends you drag in for your dirty work bc of your fame do they know they will be accountable... and charming false personality you charm the good hearted ones to…
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You pretend you don't know
You pretend you don’t understand but you’re not a stupid man you must know somewhere in your heart you were unfair to me to lean on me lean on me lean on my heart depend on my good heart for too long with no intention of helping me I realize I was foolish to let it go on so long but love made me tenacious I’ve always…
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born in Detroit 74 I was the minority
Thought I could save my Hometown Realized it was me who needed saving Dreamin of Utopia Any Hope left in you Glimmer of light in the far off distance Not in this Lifetime Expiration date in our existance Someone told me"it ain't worth losing sleep over" Empty tank started walking I used to put out my thumb for a ride Hands…
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awakening
you might wanna wake up & cry feel bad for yourself ?what kinda stupid ass life have you lived with some piss-poor decisions you've made you have made stones are bedding blood's slowly not there anymore the awkward, it sucks the past, it's confusion's broken glass under foot aches all the time bridges of fire cross leading…
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You Didn't Read This Here
You Didn't Read This Here It's only an admission couched in verse So you didn't read this here But the metaphor is of a room rearranged And you hadn't really planned on changing your life that way And there's nothing you can do to stop the shift in who you are And you don't even know what it is exactly you will be adapting…
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Build Up
I miss the open space the blank page waiting for me to fill it like a factory with a backlog of product boxes stacked to the ceiling waiting to be shipped out my warehouse is loaded! but, not pouring it out not spending time on someone other than my own pups has allowed me to confirm that days are not to be thrown away…
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Poems Set to Music
Sorry if this has already been done. Did a search and didn't find a duplicate. Esperanza Spalding~Little Fly by William Blake https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2JRGv91urY
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You were loved
you were once loved you were once cherished you were once adored you were once dear you were once loyal you were once knotted but winds have changed causing the waters to crash into your rocky foundations slowly eroding your very foundations and your core started to weaken and rot and the castle itself stands on dirty sand…
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Raging in the Circles
Turn this way, turn that way; you're going the wrong way.. AGAIN! Start over.... Try it again. Go that way, no this way; you're going the wrong way STILL!' Start over....... Tell me what you actually want!!! Full circles to the right, full.. WTF?!? I can't POSSIBLY still be doing it wrong? I am?? Well what is left to…
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Where have you been.
his hands rested in a state of confusion over his eye's his mind wandering back into the past he begins to shake now the chords of a silent melody begin to play. peel back the sunshine listen to the rain born the son of a mothers pain nothing is quite what seems in the world today can you tell me where you've been. the…
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Blood red roses and a bottle of wine
The old house was in disrepair and sat alone On the edge of the woods where the ocean meets the sand Redwood trees as high as I could see let in small rays of the sun And old rocking chair on the porch rocked back and forth As if the old woman sitting in my dreams was waiting for me. She smiled and waved and stood up proud…
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painting bowling balls full of smaller flowers using a van motor
please stop doing yourself a pirate ship you're not that vicious no stinky ass beard or fire swims from you you can beat sunlight with your two fists but don't do that smile instead bring me a set of laughter have us music because we can do this like that love this late winter day we'll light a crystal room or two plugging…
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chasing them away....
you know its been awhile since I wrote anything. oddly these past few years ive not felt motivated. to be honest, I haven't really liked who I was/am as a person and I think for some reason recently that has added up to monumental writers block. sure I start to write for fear of losing the ability but then I stop cause…
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Am I Ready?
Am I ready to leave this world? Have I accomplished what I've needed too? Do I have my affairs in order? Will there be a void? How do I divvy up my belongings? God knows I can't take them with me. Were they only worth something to me? Will they mean anything to them? Just a thought that crossed my mind, If life was over in…
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Feel the love
Going to work feeling so great listening walking to the bus stop the air is cold feeling so good waiting in my own world smiles at busdriver instead of saying hi finding my seat such a beautiful singing voice I will always love PJ the music touches my heart.. peace ;)
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Fester and Oblivia...
Oblivia, Oblivia Your hair is far from this box Comprehension stacked and wasted on you, Oblivia. Can't claw deep enough to hang... but mother says "Oblivia." Cross limb sits Oblivia Can't sigh loud enough to scatter the roaches... but mother ejaculates "Oblivia!" Flying on the gas of the lights Bottled women sink into…
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this one's about my mailbox.
The cat trigger pull full is nestled next to the abominable snow puppet of Mr. next-door-neighbor's face and that puts me and the world in a particular situation of repeating everything or else the walrus blubber I was sleeping in might get caught stealing fruit like oranges and apples and big long penis-shaped bananas…
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Memory is the fish in a pond
love