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The autumn rush of leaves in November sends chills down my spine The filtered sunlight drips through leaves, leaving shadows to mask my tears. I am back in school I inhale William Blake
Love is a twisted game  An unsolved case It's a shame Flowers in a vase 
I love the sharp pain And the loud bang Of a laced leather glove Driving through your brain   Many call it " the salvage science" I call it organized violence.
The first time I met you, you were going on and on about potato salad my complexion pallid, nose wrinkled, you didn't notice how much I hate potato salad you shoved it into your mouth claiming you could eat buckets, gallons,
When you see me, Am I invisible?What am I? You conversate to me like you know me.But do you know?
High school? I thought it would be cool. Whatever. That fallacy got severed. Along with expected measures, and weathered effort.
Little things are my happiness and joy. Like the way a pencil dances across a blank piece of parchment, the way a large group of people can harmonize with each other. Even something as little as earning the A-B honor roll.
Rising to the glow of your brightness
Feeling the fall breezes go through my body and swirl in my hair are things that swell my heart on a cold autumn day. Getting together with family and friends are what makes the season worth living through.
One month Four weeks Twenty eight days. A lifetime in a moment, two heartbeats in a second. First week of the semester you were there Skating in and out of my vision. I noticed, but didn't pause
    A new school year is different for few   Almost all kids wakE up at 7:30  
My beautiful little girl, From the moment I knew you were, I couldn’t think straight anymore. To know that my soul had found
The tik-tok of the clock The whistling and hissing of the winter air Roaring and screaming that suddenly stops Long enough for a heart to beat once The resounding gong of the clock that struck twelve
What Keeps me lifted in this oppressed prison? When I stand by my lonely All my friends they just pretend No surprise to me At the end they turn phony Cannot allow that have me feel abhor 
Camera lights flashing,  hundreds of people clapping. I did it; WE did it. The smiles, the laughs. The friendships that will always last. How did I get so lucky? Stepping onto that mat;
While they are perched on their wall, Perfect in symmectrical proportions, From there loft shadows fall, Flakes of dust-born distortions.   Perfect in symmectrical proportions,
Do you hear that? Me either. 
I love it. The endless conversation The pointless laughter The sun shining On my beet red cheeks, I love it. The tears of joy The moments of pure bliss The days I wasn’t able to sleep,
Why live solely by the bible, When it fills you full of hate. You'll only destroy, No ability to create. Endless sleepless nights, Questioning beliefs, But you have to keep your head down,
A new life Potential with no seeming end A new beginning, no sign of strife But to begin, however, is also to end   A military child Moving from state to state
I own my daysWeekdays? I got this. I succeed.But it's on Saturday and Sunday that I feedMy soul.I do what makes me happy.I live my life the right way, but my wayWhen I do chores, it's still play
Makoura is me, I am Makoura I live in an oval  Full of eight lanes With one big heart Many people wish to live here  But not many are willing  To make the sacrifice  and work it takes,
Words tumble faster than I can write.
As I look in the eyes of those passing by me, I can't help but see the sorrow. The helplessness these kids must feel. If only they knew who to turn to. While I'm weeping, I will worship.
The soul rings and shakes in joy everytime, Intitates the keys that plays on the organ, Not noise, but sounds of praise, Great is the grace you have given this life that is not my own,
Flashes, lenses, and screens They make me scream Of happiness of course Cameras, cameras, and more Never make me bored Portrait, landscapes, and nature Are calling my name I'll catch you later
The best feelings in the world are simple.    a bubble bath.   cuddles with a puppy. a hug from a missed sibling.
All the poems I see these days are competitions  For whoever has experienced the worst pain Whoever has the most scars on their wrist wins  It's like all happiness you feel is just in vein   
I am happy to be alive. Happy to be in school and strive.
I was on a train headed back to my college after visiting home for the weekend. I took advantage of the ten-and-a-half hour ride to write an essay for World Literature. English is my intended major
Has anyone ever looked in the mirror and said:             “I feel courageous today” Chances are you haven’t, but that’s totally okay Now is when I challenge you to do just that
What is Happiness?   Happiness is waking up in the morning just to see the sun rise. Happiness is the smell of roasting coffee and warm pancakes.
First day of school, reuniting with old friends. That's what makes me twist and shout.
I sit in my classrooms alone and quiet, I have a lot to say but I just to hide it. Some say I'm shy, quiet, and nice, Others say I'm weird, loud, and I need advice. I say, they all need to think twice.  
All I want is my sleep and nothing moreSleeping takes me to another worldSometimes real life is a bore
It’s about the season, The colorful leaves, like I always dream, It makes me smile for no reason.   The crisp outdoor air, Cut pumpkins everywhere, Cider being warmed,
Poetry makes me happy, it fills me with glee. Some poems are crappie, like one, two, three. Some like to rhyme, Some make me cry. Some take many time, Others are quite dry.
  I missed waking up at a set time,
The Sun on my face My heart's filled with grace
With every half note And measure of rest Comes a short piece Played at its best   Whether its a solo Or ensemble of a kind Playing as one sound Is not always easy to find  
Bright blue eyes Clear skies Light rain Life gains Small hands Green lands Tall trees Livid keys First laugh Fresh path Fallen leaves He sees    
I'll be honest. I'm a terrible dancer.
I awaited in the darkness. The branch above nestled me with its shade, and thereafter swallowed me into its pitch black embrace. The only thing that saved me . . . was her. 
How will I tell you? How will I say, what has turned my world from grey? What words do I use? What play? How will I convey? Portray, display, relay?
When you ask “How was camp this year?” my mind freezes. 
the Stars make me happy. the Way they’ve lived an eternity evolving, but not changing.
How do you describe it?
Magnificant form of Art, not to be Knocked on. Exciting beauty in Unthinkable hues. Paramount in my interestes.
This is my happy place, where no one else can intrude, This is my happy place, where characters are all of my own making Man, woman, child, teen, mermaid, dragon, toaster It doesn't matter here, because they're all mine
Of all the great freedoms I've been vlessed with in my life, I feel the greatest one is my art. To see something and recreate it or to manipulate things to my own. I can change the color, the size, the shape, the meanings!
Bright and early mornings late and studious nights laughing with my family keeping the love and joy admiring each others presence Wishful thinking,beauiful dreams
Happy What Is It? They say Its money They say Its not money What is Happy? They say Its family They say its marriage What is Happy? Is it light? Is it dark?
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