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For Stacy-Ann .
many of my poems are pearls wrapped around a tiny grain of metaphor
No one fights my demons cuz angels don't exist A scream without an echo is an arm without a fist Must we lose the ones we love to see inside our hearts? Aren't we all just souls with tear-away faces
It's hard to feel alone in the world A piece of you missing but no one knows No one sees inside you to that terrible hole The hole in a space by your heart The one that screams out for a hand
Souls stride with unbridled passion, Beings coalescing into a society as A heterogeneous fluid of Raw, fearlessly flawed humanity. Yet why is it
SAD IT Will BE For A Father TO Feel For the Death OF HIS Daughter Who was HIS “Precious Pearl” IT would have Been A very
I follow none, and, Like the sun, I rise to the challenge of each new day. No reason to say
When I was born, my mother gave me a pearl It was flawless and shiny and beautiful and mine
She looks up at the clouded sun For the thousandth time today Feels the worlds ambience around her
I think about you all day longAnd how you smile and sang that beautiful songYou saw it all didn't youYou knew they would fall apart like an old shoe
I'll push my heart into hiding. Let it be smothered and suffocated, until it becomes a pearl. The only thing that's shining in the hollow remains of a girl. Being numb felt much better than I could've imagined.
I suppose I’ll take better care of my nails from now on. Your’s were always the perfect length coated in pastel pinks neatly curved like the edges of your smile.
The fifth element is a pearl, like the ones you find in clams. The ones that are like the world. Or so the man at the bus stop said. A few quarters will buy you wings, so you don't have to take the bus