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Blues about clues about moos with nothing but a scene of touch and the sixth sense of the sensation.
Leave a message of a whispered dream, an afterthought In the drawer we use to exchange hellos and forget-me-nots.
Newer times found me just as disdained as I found them Mood indigo farewell blues, I'm in love with my sadness Just as much as I'm in love with you
When you’re stuck at the bottom of the sea No one can hear you shout No one can hear you Plea It’s too deep to pull you out Many people try
Young teen in the streets, looking for love on empty. Mother's love wasn't enough so she had to leave. Then she met you, bright eyed beauty. Never knew she was special Late night convos, a late night session
Can I be? Could you stay? Do I deserve? Should you help? I could try. You could too. Morning sky, Less blue than you.
I was driving round yesterday just after four Drove past an old blind man feeding the poor I followed that blind man all around town
Roses are red. Grasses are green. Doves are white. Sunflowers are yellow. Oranges are orange. Eggplants are violet. Jeans are indigo. The world is blue.
Sonia E Rodriguez Creative adaptation Sonny’s blues story to poem Nobody The blues began to play
Middle of Winter,A flower sings the blues.Painted red then brown.
This morning I caught the blues.I stood on the edge of the spoon with nowhere to go.I tied my shoes and searched for my muse.There she sat, distance postponing an ooze of stew.With the end of the ladle short.
Not a cloud in the sky Thunderstorms in my mind I was thinking how they say love is blind 'Cause she was a dime. Wanted her to be mine. But I'm just to average So she took advantage
Whenever I feel depressed, you may have guessed, I listen to music. The beat lifts my spirit whenever my ears are near it, and the lyrics I connect with, though that could be a myth.
I've got blues Them ole crazy blues Them ole crazy blues won't leave me alone I've sat here and I've cried I've sat here and I've moaned If it wasn't for my man I wouldn't have these blues
& the time begins when I start missing you. It really can't be a crime. We're just friends anyway. I applaud you for obtaining a love interest other than me.
The man walked across the street and picked up a can out of a recycling bin. He placed the can in a plastic bag in his shopping cart. It was dark out. He had a long white beard.
To a Lavender named Lucy Oh my pretty, fresh, young yet lovely and precious Lavender I have no creativity as thee To write in papers of colour
Depression is a stigma
Some days I feel like My mouth is a harmonica Playing the blues Playing the blues Some days I feel like I'm sitting in detention Or a Jail cell playing the blues
Too short a time to get to know you Falling falling I kept on Falling So different yet so the same We could have sailed the world together You'd be the captain and I your first mate
The world has left me to be lonely As if I am the one and only I need to find a way back into reality I flunked out of that strict school Now I am on the road like a fool
I started just like any other clean and pure and a heart that was whole Innocence started to fleet learned to walk on my own two feet
Ripples of sonic waves, stimulates creative water Flowing from the crevices of social interaction, the wind russtles uncertain thoughts
We were not born fake Our cries were real So real like that pain we feel the purity of our souls were turned inside out dried right up like a bad droubt who are we trying to impress?
With a Godly breathe he inhales the heavy, yet hollow whispers of the night siphoning the miniscule remnants of assurance loosely woven, each with its own cynical thread
Sleeping in can have its Pro's or like friends, it can be a foe. Having nothing to do can be gruesome. No friends to hang out with, no boyfriend to call, no side-kick to hang out with at the mall.