WARRIOR

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Chin up soldier For love is war Because our hearts and mind can not align Is this what we need? Love is war  
I am not a virgin, but I am still pure. I am not a warrior, still, I'm fighting a war. Ink against white paper, stained and beautiful. I am an outsider but my heart is still full.   
Dear Blue, The look in her eyes shows the pain The smile she puts up is just a phase She has been living in such a daze. Plays pretend with reality
He holds his head high As he marches on to war Ready to go home
In light of events, I'd just like to say how lucky we are to be here today.   
I am am a warrior who never stops fighting I am a proud Mexican female who is not afraid to show her roots I am courageous and piercing despite my accent
Look, there’s a reason they call us “survivors” and “warriors.” We wake up in the middle of the night, eyes staring into the glow-in-the-dark stars we pasted long ago and weep.
   All there is left is a warrior inside.           
Be a warrior Before you give up, first, reach for the star You're already a survivor You know that you've gone this far   There are mountains to climb There are rivers to cross
I watched her, I watched her fingers untangle from the struggling grip of my hands. I watched her eyes grow in hate and sorrow from the shattering promises
The wind refuses to blow when he breathes and he doesn't make a sound when he moves.
i am a warrior of love. i administer hope and hurt in equal quantities and i receive them tenfold.   with double-headed arrow i charge into the open night,
I say a prayer for the departing warrior, Departing for lands whose soil is littered with landmines, To fight a war he doesn’t understand, To possibly die in a country he couldn’t care less about
Trying to be a voice to the voiceless while I'm still trying to find my own, trying to give words to the speechless yet still trying to set the tone, quiet but still outspoken, cracked but still unbroken,
"The Fated Flower  The Final breath                  Understand,                   A fate called death The gentle lion The loyal horse                     May have seen,
Who is this in the mirror that I see ‘tis I  in the mirror, ‘tis me. Define this person, this person that I see.   Well do you see the warrior, the fearless man that you are?
 However, on land,     meager men  of might remain      (to the most of my mere knowledge) who, after boldly battling     brawling beasts and daring dangerous deeds,     would be doubly daring when
Craeated by love ending in divorce, the warrior starts his uphill battle. Used by someone he trusted and abused by someone he didn't know, yet the warrior carries on.
I am Lucas. Yet people insist that I am someone named "Hannah", Someone that is no longer me. I am male. Yet people insist that I am female
A killer of beasts Thats what I am. A soldier of God. He has chosen me to destroy the Evil.   All of the weak; a suffering man. the devil persists, but I am to protect 
Beauty is courage.
who am I? I dont know exactly, I know who I want to be some will say im selfish, ignorant, mean, and evil some may say im sweet, loving, caring, and thoughtful I would say im a informed warrior , warrior is me.. 
It’s a Monday morning, and I am fed up. My teacher babbles on and on in his nasally, monotone voice, versing the same damn elementary rhetoric I have heard all my life. He presents Grade Point Average
Every scar is a reason, A reason to hold, A reason to love... Let me hold you in my arms tonight, Showing you that I can see the beauty through the beast,
Being a Hero for your family Being a hero for your friends Being a hero to the people who look up to you Never showing people your weaknesses Being a hero is not always comfortable
Who can you tell Who can you trust In a world full of emptiness and lust Will they ever love you Will they ever understand Coming from a world with no helping hand How can they see
they never even noticed the redness in her eyes they never even noticed  the signs that everyday she cried they never even noticed because they never even cared
Money or Starve  by Andrea Victoria
You never know what’s up ahead.
enough of your comfortand poetry about innocence   my scars are not an invitationfor you to kiss my wrists   and how dare you try to make me feellike my wars weren’t realdid not exist
one, moment that changed our lives. as you told me the news  Holding my hand  Two seconds for it to sink in  I let the tears fall three days before you left walking away from us leaving 
The Warrior is Strong & Brave They’re fearless with courage Strengthen by Love Fight till the end Or Fight till their last
  Warrior of prime right             Behold what is             Stand fast             For they lay             A ways away            
A toast that shall never exist
Determined Warrior                 Pelted by deadlines             Mauled by knowledge             Held accountable for so many
Do you hear them? The warriors of this age who don't beat their chests and tattoo their faces who don't fight off the bad guys and save all the good guys. These are the true warriors
    I am an immortal queen 
It was only a time to The fallen tribe But I, I lost so much. The string that first unraveled
it all began a few years ago,  My eyes were opened, now i cant let it go. It's my mom she is the REAL bread winner in the fam its a shame what she has for as a man she works and works and nothing pays off 
Within all of us lies some ounce of darkness A beast, just waiting to be released It seems white and pure and with a gleaming sword With the power and the strength to unleash, On outsiders, its owner, or even itself.
I choose my words because of their freedom the freedom they fought for they fought for me. I, too, am a warrior my weapons are my words. They are sharp and shocking, smooth and soothing.
Let's say you know what you want, let's just pretend for a minute, every desire need and dream you want, would you be willing to win it? Put up a fight, one where most would quit?
He departed his wife with sorrow in his soul for he knew that he had to go the journey that he had to make to see if he could finally wake He traveled long and far from home
Death he is a warrior, charging head-on men of great strength and valor. Death he is a coward, Reaping youth of no accomplishment or stature.
From milk to yogurt it went, Doubling the traps everyday, Like rat trapped in the edge Wishing to be somewhere else; Becoming an ocean of tears Where a little hole in the wall Gets smaller every second
The rain is pouring and my heart is drowning But it struggles and fights to learn to swim; Bending its shape to its wet surroundings It reaches an isolated shore, And once again it morphs to be able to breathe,
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