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The man behind the photo is unknown his true nature are within the pixles of a picture his facial expression like the cover of a book
Fantasies are swirling In my head I must get out I must live them instead Traveling is what I want to do- Traveling of the heart and feet To the mountains of the world And oceans blue
Laughter, joy, happiness all uplifts me but what uplifts me the most is
The cover of a book Is full of beauty to the eye.
We hustle through life trying to find meaning, but don't put worth into what we're dreaming. Where does the most value lie? In graveyards where we have died.
When life brought me down I only knew one I could turn to
I'm a very easy person to please give me the bare necetties and some privicy I'll love you for ever it does't take a lot to make me smile Give me sunflower or a sloppy kiss on the cheek
Dogwood blossoms drift to the ground Temperatures finally rising all around It's Spring again Things are green as far as eye can see Little birds sing in every tree It's Spring again
As the first period bell rings
People say music is life I believe that Blast some Iggy Azeala and Sam Hunt Talk dirty to me Leave the night on Walk the line All #1s in my eyes Take a cruise in your car
A pool of sorrow. I am in. I long for the days of the simpler times. As an older being,
Hapiness is, the wind in your hair while riding your bike too fast through town Hapiness is staying up too late watching your favorite TV show on Netflix Or how about running to the end of your street and jumping into the ocean
How lovely it is the world after midnight, The silence of the wind, the tallights of a stray car, Mindfulness in this somber time brings about peace, A joy so rarely seen in the midst of daily chaos,
My lover is very mysterious. His moods change like the wind. He is calm, collected, and tranquil one minute, And furious, stormy, and vicious the next. But I love him anyways. He leaves me gifts,
Away from the summer breeze, it is claustrophic in the narrow hallways. Instead of the peace of the ocean, the sound of slamming lockers is harsh and brutal.
Briana Alexis Williams
The Solemn Sparrow On the eve of twilight's yearning,
Little things Just the smallest things Waking up to a promised sunrise To breathe air that is granted freely Though without these things we would fall to demise
Texas summers are a witch's boiling pot Heat chews up, spits out, and leaves to rot Fun they are not Texas land is ugly and poor cursed soils grow plants to make you sore The place is a bore