Long

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They say that Distance Makes the heart grow fonder But I was fond enough When we walked Alongside one another
In the world's second most incestious hostel there lives a family, Due to the misconception that home is sweet home They have all come here To run away to find - to rebuild - to destroy
The first time I saw you, you meant nothing to meThe second time I saw you I forgot your nameIt's been eight months since I first met youYou have been very good for me
She confesses her love                And covers her mouth Just to make sure                             The snake won't slip out        She embraces the change                    And tugs on her sleeves
The clock shall always be the enemy, With his hands of weaponry, Time stamped in history, With actions of misery.   Tick tock goes the clock,
The clock shall always be the enemy, With his hands of weaponry, Time stamped in history, With actions of misery.   Tick tock goes the clock,
Once upon a time there was a girl. She inspected herself with a small, dainty twirl. Leaving her home with a basket in hand, She was off on her way to travel the land.
A long journey coming back from the outside world into my home, Around 40-60 minutes, I lay down and I breath heavily, So exhausted from this jog, the forests I went in gave my mind something to be distracted by, 
  Light swallowed by shadows Hearing voices nobody owns Disembodied, and paralyzed Good god, I’m PETRIFIED Falling and falling
It is done I have lived my life I have had my children I have built my house But it is done   As I lay in this rose Sweet and soft Silky yet sorrowful All the while knowing
Fifty years in this place,
There are many ways that I can define me My major, my gender, or my history. Lets start simple, something easy. My major is definitive, it's Biology. I am a scientist at heart, a studier of the sea,
How does one define perfection? By looking in my eyes, They don't show a reflection of the viewer but a glimps into my soul. In the curve of my iris there is a story, A little girl who moved from house to house,
The knowing of time not being long enough- We waste it with our assumptions of its endlessness.  We assume theres enough,  That there will always be tomorrow. For those with a tomorrow, That never comes,
Rain It drips down my back In quick succession. Rivulets form a path, An irrelevant digression. Gravel It retaliates the rain. Each drop Absorbing the pain. Walking still, 
Knots Some for infinity Tied together tight Never taken away Until it is not needed Until its job is done
ReflectionWritten by Adam M. SnowI am alone this night of flutter;confusion reigns, so I utter, 
As my eyes close my mind is blown..
  He was born in a rodent-infested hut, amid the broken screams of an abused woman and the furious shouts of a drunken man; those sounds never faded. He had been there all his life.
A one night
I miss you,  because without you, my life feels like, a punch in the gut,  a curse word yelled in the middle of a public prayer, falling,  falling hard, 
The sickled sling which cast doubts beckons from the blackened light.  An inevitable dream that awakens me abruptly, haunts my ever waking moment.
My Mother is Wonderwomen Except she doesn’t wear cape dangerously tied around her neck. Or a funny looking onesey made of a mix between rubber and spandex.
Mocking mirrors here and therealways relishing my despair.Never ceasing in their testimonyuntil I miraculously become bony.
The fuck do I look like? Listening to your voice rambling on and on Your stupid syllabus and grading scale  is all wrong I get graded for saying things in class? How about this: Kiss my natural black ass.
The fuck do I look like? Listening to your voice rambling on and on Your stupid syllabus and grading scale  is all wrong I get graded for saying things in class? How about this: Kiss my natural black ass.
                                                  Did you ever wish you can turn back time To that one scene in your life.   When listening to your head just didn’t seem right?  
Do you think you’re smart? Because I was told to write a poem, But I don’t know what to write.
Somewhere in the land of Gray There was a girl, whose name was Kay Kay was smart, Kay was beautiful Most of all, Kay was truthful A dreamer in the best of ways In her head spent most her days
To begin something, with a blank mind to begin somthing, where only time can tell you if it's what you thought only time spent, to figure what you've bought.   Most people never begin, 
Poeticinsecuritieshauntingunbrokendreams in placesdeep beneaththe wavesof electrolytespulsingthrougheach brandnew idea.
To get far away Till I can't even see home Alone on my own This place is to small Suffocating me slowly My dreams are bigger Something is out there Endless opportunities Why can't I just go
If you were here It would all be different The way the leaves fall off the trees They could glide the way lips graze over teeth in smiles
Dear Anthony, I'd like to set aside order for a moment And what's inadvertently thought of as important To spill my heart on a palette With words left uncalloused Waiting to engrave
I just want to know, how far this poem will go. Will it reach you at sea? Will you be thinking of me? Will you hear it in your sleep? Will you think about about it when you weep?
I knew a girl that never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts, she never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts. I mean it’s something that no one really thinks twice about or even once about her.
To whom it may concern: What is it about me that frightens you? Is it the way I talk? The way I walk? The way I’m shy? If you really get to know me I am a nice and sweet guy.
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