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Now ONLY Those Who Are DAFT... DON'T WORK At Their Craft... !?!
Nowadays When I Write My Tension Lessens... Which Helps Me Find Some Peace of Mind... Enabling Me To AVOID... Depression... !!!!!! My Writing Style Keeps On Progressing... Thus When I Write I Do LESS Stressing...
Old age showed up one day Smiling, the curves of her lips held softer edges, Her hands were delicately lined, An ancient wire system, Still alive, The woven fabric of steel grey
As the sands of time fall And collect in a mound I stop and reflect On the wisdom I've found For every day is a lesson A subject to learn And by the end of the day Priceless knowledge is earned
Welcome to the old me where days of freedom were abundant where was I free to do as I pleased where I was enveloped in disregard for other’s opinions where I was more of myself than I was of them
I returned home from Atlantis with new armor and a new head — blades still sharp from the last stoning — feeling very nearly a tourist in my own land.
It has been a long time Since the sun smiled, Honored in the corners of my pictures by the yellowest crayon. It has been a long time
Up from the backwoods Of a Black Tea Thicket: There shines a Tiny Ceramic glass,
Finding someone who is caring, careful, conscientious is far more difficult than I’d like it to be.When I found you I felt at peace, I felt like the world finally had meaning, motive, mind.When I met you my anxiety emerged its way back out of the
Over the course of years, Over the course of days, Over the course of writing this sentence The so-called "future" has changed immensely Similar to how seasons occur Changing colors, changing shapes
Since the moment you are created
Do away with material things None of that matters My sole hope for you and your long life is to be more than you were yesterday scream, love, dance, embrace, and run like hell
Oh my goodness this gun weighs a ton Too much weight gave me a strain; I wonder why I have this gun At last, we have the enemy on the run
My heart ached as I put my pen to the paper, dreading what would come next.
I’m like a vine of ivy I need a tree to climb I will grow so long and lithe I’ll make that flora mine The moment I reach the sky feel O2 in my green
a little over a second, a minute over an hour ago, They called us, a little over day, a week over a month ago, They called us, a little over a year, decades over centuries ago, They called us the future