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Standing at a crossroads pondering my dilemma -wether to remain with the known, familiar - those old comfort zones or- to veer wildly and risk it all... Yes, I know
Maybe love is not my path, clearly we have seen the aftermath and it makes me feel like a sociopath Should I take a break, or will I feel more heartache
In the absence of a belief book we search for answers inside ourselves Though some not as bright and few truly enlightened we all fall short In what sense of this box do we choose to think around?
My darling vulnerability, The days of October are almost gone yet the leaves haven’t yellowed or fallen from their trees
What is it that we know? Where is it that we go? We see only the narrowness, The tunnel of our vision, That gives birth to strangeness, And fumbling indecision. The shadows greet us warmly
I can’t live without her. She is the one who has carried my compass to the top, and took my air at the floor. She loves sad songs with happy melodies.
Nervous Pensive One way The other way Right Down Middle Your way My way meet. in. the Middle. Left and over, Over, wrong right
You bring me together Then pull me apart Make me fly with broken wings Then curse my heart. I wish I could express I wish I could say Just how much I love you
The pencil’s metallic probing tip
Indecision, at its best, is a game of poker
When I go to sleep
My home rests on two shores, North and South A house with two front doors, My love has two faces. I am two people confronting our rift Letting the waters take us adrift,
Harvard and Yale keep mailing me They must not have gotten my last SAT Some Christian college won't stop trying They must not know I follow Neil Degrasse Tyson Where then, should I be applying?
Wandering amongst the maze of shelves, I hear their whispers of stories yearning to be heard from a multicolored sea,
I said no and then I'd encourage you
at a crossroads, where the roads diverge into a yellow wood
III Wrap me in your poetryI want to understand how these feelings never endMineAndYoursAnd how I don't know how to make thingsOurs Maybe I'm just broken IV
The Ripple Effect Sometimes I cannot help but wonder What really goes out yonder? If all our lives is not a blunder To pass never remembered like thunder Into it we come wailing
No glance or furtive peek needed, I already know. They are me, all respiring to one united beat and breath--and we’ll die together at death.
The sweetest serenades of bliss, head lost in the possibility of ethereality: that destiny maybe was supposed to keep us together.