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Broken heart, Broken heart please heal one more time, You probably don't see it but your worth more than a dime. You ask time to let you shine, but I'm pretty sure You'll be fine!,
// To continue in a course of action even in the face of difficulty or with little or no prospect of success// We all have choices in life we push ourselves until we breakdown or persevere until we reach our definition of success.
I could not determine why I continued to let my hopes and dreams die Turns out...
“You must fake it to make it,” this is what you taught me
Call of duty, 1944. Old Uncle Sam knocking at the door 18 years old, a boy soon a man.
Do not show jealousy in the light of a mischievous mirror For that same mirror will glare back at you in madness.
My imagination glows  A pulsing radiance Tempting the average soul Like flies to a light It burns bright in me A candle of creativity So vibrant, so strong
A sea away, Endlessly long days, No sleep at night, A few fights, Plenty of giggles New food that jiggles, Chance of a lifetime, Cost way more than a dime, Want to go back,
When you look at me, tell me what you see. Do you see me, or are you simply focusing on vanity? Shakespeare once said that all the world’s a stage, If only he could see how he prophesized this world of today
The stars are shining bright In the middle of the sky Producing a faint light As I look up and sigh Their beauty is unmatched So bright and real I've grown quite attached To their perfect appeal
  Whenever I place a pen to a blank paper  I pause like a diver on a high diving board  Looking down at the waters below, so far away,  So far removed from the casual air of everyday life 
exhale— watch the tendrils of smoke dance before being whisked away. sitting on the porch railing his book open beside me as he searches for the meaning of life. he could give
I find I am more and more in need of that peace that comes betweenwaking up and speaking the first words for the day, that peace that comes as the rush of hot water from the shower head runs
Writing, it's quite a release,Giving away the emotions of the day.Writing, it brings me peace. Sometimes, I don't want to cease,It lets me say what I want to say.Writing, its quite a release. 
It was so easy at first. Like a moth to the flame. I was an innocent victum. And you a harmless game. Just skip one,  it can't hurt? After all, what's the worst? Nobody can see the damage,
Happiness isn't just an intense emotion. It's a state of mind, a sense of peace. One will simply find  happiness in the moment, not by searching for it.   Remember, there's more to being happy
What does writing mean to me?  It's a way to make my words flow, like wind through trees.  A way to show on paper, the picture in my mind.  Despite the fact that I can't draw and my painting skills are way behind, 
Up e a r l y, sleep l a t e. These thoughts talking all before I fall. Asleep is where I cant go.  Because thoughts converse with e v e r y soul. 
No introduction was necessary For me to understand the healing that these words have had upon me Fate or destiny intervened leading me down this cathartic path
I'm sitting alone with my thoughts and everything I've ever done wrong.   The silence is burning. It screams in my ears.   Life is overwhelming but it's all we have here.  
My mind is racing  My heart is pacing Theres a tingling sensation in my fingertips I Just Want To Be Happy!  NO! It's right there within my reach Please! Let me just grasp it
My shattered remains Are scattered among the skies and I’m just laying here in some... restive peace Just waiting for that spark to ignite. Is this really what the meaning is? The meaning of life?
I write to save my bleak soul from the troubles of today. I write to make the tears of sorrow shy swiftly away. I write so that others may know they are not alone. I write because my heart was once as cold as stone.
(poems go here) Shades of blue casting over stripes of gold; I watch as the colors shift from light to dark, and slowly the blackness conquers, razing any hint of sunlight that may shine through my window.
I crave to see the world. I have a lust rooted deep within myself for adventure, A hunger to pack my bags, pack my life, a camera, and someone I love. The desire to travel has always clung to me.
Searching for real and for truth My heart is genuine In people it looks for hints and clues to who they really are When open hearts meet the connection's surreal
Under Pressure. Listen to Bowie: Fill my ears with the sound of his sweet fears. Under Pressure. I used to be so carefree A beautiful Sun-child Of the Earth. But now I don’t recognize me.
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