Two

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Eight: Extremities armed for the call of the wild; the hunter marches. Seven: Strings fanning into the damp corners of cardboard castles.
I want to be the muse for each part of who you are & who you will becomeI want your thoughts of me to play gently through your mind as my fingers do on each key that I brush over I need for my laugh to be the charming staccato you hear in your
I wait Wait for the final accolades Instead life hands me a hundred promenades Promenades of infinite choices Appearing in my head as infinite voices
It is two in the morning when I feel your warm hands begin to massage my feet. Two of us slumped over each other, tired-eyed, forgetting other life subsists
Midnight passed by two minutes, Got beats in my head ticking, And words are lip syncing to the beat. Create a melody. One, two three rhymes. Bittersweet symphony, makes your heart ache like ecstasy.
To smile well depressed is such a strange feelinglook to for help yet your external emotions are concealingalone once again
what a dismaywe were trying to find the pieces to the puzzle lets sit cris cross apple sauce and find a new game to playthis one was kind of annoying so we found a new sedative it sorta messed with our heads and we began to feed on selfishness ins
"And for the poet even disasters are on the agenda." - Alexander Pushkin         Impact (12/27/15)   Is it wrong to break A promise when
How does the day match the night ?
I neither love nor care what they say about me I am my own  and my own is me   I am the one who will  decide where I go    I am the one who is  traveling this road  
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,
He said this She said that You come to me asking for help because you know  you know that I will even if I'm ill don't question it but when you leave and talk behind my back
Days, Weeks, Months, They pass. And I wait. I wait on you. I wait on a FaceTime,  A call, Some word. But you don't call. You don't FaceTime, You send no word.
Alas! What a troublesome sight this night is, Your silhouette on the wall I idolize, As you dance to and fro, mocking me so,
Please Read carefully, thank you.      Two lights in his eyes, so beautiful, i praise him for it is he i can never despise. The beauty of his green iris, spread through my soul, like the most potent virus.
Justin Bieber with his pants sagging so low touring round the world with pot to blow. While little girls are following screaming his name, giving our society a face of shame.   Justin Bieber such a shame
I reflect. I dream. I speak. I desire.  How does it even compare? A broken heart? A summer's day? They are all the same. We wander. We drift. We run. We crave.
One side is where your on the inside looking out  And the other is when your on the outside looking in  There is nothing in between except that clear glass that allows you to see through that wall in front of you
They loved on a deathbed. Rather,their love was that of a deathbed love.
They are the only two who don’t know. I am the only one who knows their hearts’ desire. Two shy hands with sparks in their eyes and secret hopes.
We, guided inward and outward, expand accordingly. I, that is Body One, being plagued in Real, do seek guidance from Two. Two, being plagued by the retained sorrows of I, doth see things
We, guided inward and outward, expand accordingly. I, that is Body One, being plagued in Real, do seek guidance from Two. Two, being plagued by the retained sorrows of I, doth see things
The lack of concentration the pain, we fight the struggle of staying educated. The tears in my eyes drop from lack confidence but A lot of faith to keep going. Yet I fight the disabilty and the pain of people words.
This poem is a comparison of my biological father, and My “Step-Dad”. The contrast of the two “fathers” has shaped me into the person that I am. Daddy’s Little Girl?
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