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It doesn’t matter what I name this poem Or perhaps it won’t deserve a name We never name the things we plan to kill you see Since names make it that much harder to watch it die
This poem doesn't have a title What do you think I should call it? Does anybody have a suggestion? Perhaps it doesn't require a title This is a poem about morality It’s a subject that will embarrass you
To tell a story of the famed Knight Hawk Listen whilst I remember, recall Ready not yourself for a tale of sweet For he was never such a declious trait Knight Hawk began as a boy of late
being fearless does nOt mean i
Somtimes in life it seem's you take two steps forward and get knock back three
I believe in the innocence of a child The freedom of a kid The choices of a teenager The maturity of an adult
Me, myself, and I. That's just all I am. Living a nice life, than all of a sudden BAM! I question if this is me, if this is all I really do. For what I've become, I think I'm overdue.
While we walked up the gravel path through the hills. I looked upon these stone memorials. Simply thinking to myself about the days that are flying by, so fast. The days that mean so little, yet so much at the same time.
Jesus loves me this i know... Actually i don't i was just told so blinded by my past i cannot see
The apostle Paul, in the first book of Corinthians and the thirteenth chapter said: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a
Words give life, They create magic, They create new worlds, Colors and shapes form before your very eyes, You are no longer you but someone new, You live in a distant land far away.
I need an escape, I need to leave, But how can I? I can't run from it, It ever leave. The demon inside is too strong, I can't run, I can't hide. You tell me to fight,
Silence! What ray of light beams through that square of glass?
The time was...where the sun and its light don't shine. Darkness...for the moment and the victim were right. I laid to sleep but was awaken from my dreams. Laying on my sheets, was a demon next to me.
i Wasn't Ready! Everything you put me throught i never knew it would hurt so much
Look at me! Can't you see the roundness of my belly? The widening of my hips? The puffiness of my face and the swelling of my feet? But yet, I know that you can't see
The word s
I'm looking at the waves, entranced by their strength. They throw me under and thrust me aside, as if my presence isn't a bother at all.
A tragic simile to compare
If love is a fire burning brighter by the hour Does it require fuel or burn by its own power? It always begins in each of us the same A spark from the eyes,a smile, a flame
Is it really fair to put the title last? It is the begining is it not?
You pretend that you know