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Isolation of my soul brought out the worst in me The original justification for this was Ive been hurt before so why try again but once I got the taste of love on my toungue again
You think you are out there all alone, you are not meant to be alone. Your heart is not made of stone, but your will is that of stone. The voices inside on and on they drone, but you are alive and not a drone.
Swimming through water so black,My heart beats dully in its cage.Not a soul should see the crack,Splitting in pieces with conquering rage.
Water fell from my eyes Thoughts of hope actons of needy Crown on my head is the prize Eating every word of God, not reedy Consume my life with your works Baptized in spirit an righteousnss
People are temporary and when they go away it's scary it's like a part of you dying but half of you is still trying to get back with them, get back to them you're alone in the dark crying
Roses are Red Violets are Blue I need Scholarship Money Or else I'll end up in the streets with a 6 million dollar debt that not even the President can save me from. gg wp no re
I want to create BE Become the current Ethereal reality No authentic fakery Forget time spent Live in dreams Read in books So in reach I want to act DO
The succulent siver Still clings, To the ethereal bird With her broken wings. At it's dying delicacy I stare, With me She begins to share. She showered me
My hope is powered by the greatness of your heart. My smile is fueled by the sweetness of your words. My mind is functioning with the help of your rambunctious emotions.
“Muse, where are you?”, I wonder. “Muse, what are you?”, I ponder. I think about you all the time. I contemplate your existence. Are you here or are you there?
I find myself insecure when I look at myself without any editing. I'll feel as if I am discrediting... ..as I compare myself to other girls, I believe that I am not beautiful to the whole-wide world.
i hate my scars. they are not lovely, they are not bravery. they dictate my life. they tell me what i can wear, where to go who i can trust, who i can love...
I need a hero- With every fold of my lips and flick of my tongue, I need a hero-
I want to be happy, but happiness is fickle, Because we're only promised pursuit Not joy on a platter:
As the population grows, Every human being becomes less important, Of less concern to the person next to them. One day we will have found a solution to running out of resources and created more,
to speak but cannot form the words that would fulfill my thoughts desire. to gain freedom but scared to face the breakout of war against another. yes, yes this is how you and i must feel, this is how you and i try to explain,
The feeling of depression bogs you down, all the negatives are collapsing over and over again. No one is there, and no one can help, No one knows you, and you are all alone.
The table stays the wood is grey a light sull yellowed tingy yellow brown when on the bench the hobo sleeps the homo weeps the political correctness steeps and for weeks and weeks
I feel like you look for messages engraved in the cliche i don't like it but it seems to work. this is straight forward. i miss my metaphors tired and hungry I can't help but wonder
You are divinely created uniquley de
The biggest question that will remain a mystery, is who are we really supposed to be or become.? yes we all have dreams of becoming something one day, but that doesnt mean that is who we are called to be....
It was late at night
what are friends are they lovable or are they like a sneaky vampire in the night and gonna bite you when you are not lookin? well i say it depends on the person you become friends with
God save us: everyone We're a band of sinners living life on the run Responsibility and morality ride hot on our tail For freedom and happiness, we set sail
Self Acceptance A Julius C. Lightfoot III Poem
Welcome, to the world in which we live. Every one of us is looked down upon, Antagonized, Rendered as a menace to society.
Innocence captured by the hands of evil, A life stolen, that can never be returned.
We are undefined by words alone, the ones who stand, the rolling stones. They will say stand out in a crowd and try something newBut heaven forbid that you actually do.
A reflection I am fat. I am ugly. All of these imperfections. I need to be perfect. I don't eat. Fat equals ugly. The mirror tells me so. My reflection stares back at me. Disgusting.
When you shake my hand can you tell who I really am? Or is it in my voice that makes you understand? For all you could know I am the girl next door, Or maybe even the girl that you have labeled the school whore.
who is we where does this we reside is it the same place as where we’ve come from have we progressed at all or is here to comfortable are the chains to comfortable what if harriet tubman was afraid of the dark
Black, White, Asian Indian, Native, Mexican all given titles by who, not our creator but by his creations In a Nation obsessed with political correctness His creations; Are Not Very