Hope

Buru · February 2005

Some make it…some don’t. This one goes out to a beautiful survivor….

And to survivors in general.

If there is one I thing I ask for,
And I have no one really to ask to,
Is for fate to spare those pure of heart,
Those lovely souls
That bring colour to grey existence,
Those precious few
Who have the exact word
For every situation,
Those whose smile reminds us
That dreams should not be lost,
Those who live their life
With utmost joy.

So this dreamer thanks this survivor
And the ones who’ll follow suit,
For breathing hope through her
And correcting her mistaken view,
That misconceived perception
Engraved in her since a child,
The commonly believed lie
That beauty cannot last.

rarghrargh-brownstar · February 2005

*BuMp*
............

DopeBeastie · February 2005

heyhey

sabbath · February 2005

very unique Buru, i can see you becoming a great storyteller lol

coleen · February 2005

this is beautiful buru

Buru · February 2005

thanks everyone... I wrote this with a friend in mind.

And thanks for the bump, Rargh!!

who's_pearljam? · February 2005

You are beautiful, Buru.
The person that this is for is a lucky man, and blessed to know you.

Buru · February 2005

who's_pearljam? wrote:

You are beautiful, Buru.
The person that this is for is a lucky man, and blessed to know you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

rarghrargh-brownstar · February 2005

Buru wrote:

thanks everyone... I wrote this with a friend in mind.

And thanks for the bump, Rargh!!

I m just glad i saw it

it was Wayyy too much backers

I am a thread- saver :S

Buru · June 2006

A reminder... a note to self
Censored emotions will lead nowhere
Allow yourself to be... always
And survive (yourself)

(Ramblings)

Expresión coartada
que terminará por aniquilar
la poca sanidad que queda,
moribunda de puñaladas
de pensamientos certeros...
limita la vida el propio ser,
es como un suicidio constante
donde no hay culpables
y no hay tiempo,
sólo el inexorable dolor
de saber que algo muere
y que nada lo reemplaza,
que nada nuevo viene,
es el saberse vérdugo
de la propia condena,
Y luego llorar la muerte
como si fuera ajena.