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Dear Mr GlumHe stared moodily at the stack of letters in front of him and peeled open the front envelope, reading silently.
'Dear Mr Glum, I know what I want in life, and I know where I want to be...but how will I ever get there when I don't know how? Sincerely, Clear.'
Sighing, he tossed the paper aside and ripped open another envelope.
'Mr Glum, my girlfriend left me and I don't know where I stand or what to do, I want to be something, I want to exist...be recognised, but how can I when the best part of me is missing? Please help, Confused.'
He closed his eyes and tipped the chair back, the way that he'd always told his children not to do. He wondered at what age they would start disobeying his fragile advice. And had they already? He didn't know, he couldn't know, because he'd not seen them for five years. But pouring his heart and soul into helping others seemed like a suitable outlet.
He stared at the two open letters in front of him, the start of a long days wor
IfIf I were a painter,
I'd paint your memories,
Your earliest day, and quirky way,
I'd paint you easily.
If I were a poet,
I'd scribble you some lines,
Of flower days, and country ways,
and other loving times.
If I were an author,
Your story I would write,
On every page, a different age,
as you slept alone at night.
If I were a teacher,
I'd give you all I know,
Of Classic lit and Ancient script,
And language as you grow.
If I were your lover,
I'd love you till the end,
Kiss you first, and quench your thirst,
and hold you while you mend.
But I am an observer,
In your heart, always a friend.
And there I see, I'll always be,
Anonymous until the end.
Strangers Who Once KissedSix months ago I didn't think that I would be crossing the street just to avoid asking 'How are you?'
Two years ago, I knew with such innocent clarity that never a day would go by that your name wouldn't cross my lips.
But the unthinkable has come to pass, and I see you hurrying down the sun dappled avenue, towards the tube station where you will be lost forever, and I turn the other way.
You've seen me.
Of course you have seen me.
Our eyes have met across tumbling leaves and autumn chills, we have paused, locked, the wind tugging at our coats trying to make us turn away.
And I do
I can see in your disappointed face that I have turned my eyes away from you, the whites of them sparking with recognition, but the centre, the bit that matters, flickers away in deliberate ignorance. The world has slowed around us whilst we pause, but as I offer you my shoulder reality catches up with us. A shoulder that was never before turned coldly to
MistakesMade a whole lot of errors,
Filled a bucket full of tears,
A rain cloud full of mistakes,
And a river full of fears.
A hurricane of regrets,
With a torpedo of lies,
A weather storm of mistakes,
But perfect in anothers eyes.
What I did was just a lesson,
And a lesson to be learned,
Through all my precious mistakes,
An experience is returned.
Made a whole lot of errors,
Through what I chose to be,
But an error makes a mistake,
And a mistake makes me, me.
The Cynical Woman "I have slept with the poor," he tells me,
as if this would entice me in!
"I've traversed the slopes of a mountain"
But that doesn't mean anything!
"I've photographed the depths of poverty"
But did you put end to the drought?
"I was there when the trade centres fell "
So how many people did you pull out?
"I've sat with the blind," He triumphes,
But did you give them their sight?
"I'm a 40 year old war veteran!"
But you didn't join in the fight.
"Now a few would proclaim me a hero.."
I sincerely doubt that they would.
"Last month I donated blood!"
I'd donate my heart if I could.
"So what can I say to impress you?"
Because that is the way to my heart?
"Well I don't know what you want from me.."
You can tell me the truth...for a start.
Bereft of A ManYou came in with the winds,
On a North Easterly breeze,
With the crisp chill of the winter,
And the bare skeletal trees.
You were solid and dependable
And the others wanted one, it's true,
Someone handsome and reliable.
They crafted their own versions of you.
Our time together was too short,
But you didn't hurt or cheat,
Driven in with soft snow,
And forced out with harsh sleet.
So the consistent male in my life,
And it is sad to admit it, I know,
Lasted no longer than a week,
Just A man made out of snow.
Societal Flaws A dark shape shadowing an even darker doorway...
That was how I saw you, in cold rain, on Christmas Eve. I'd seen you plenty of times before throughout the past year, but somehow this was different. That you were sat here, in exactly the same spot as always, struck me as poignant and a wave of melancholy engulfed me.
In the past we preferred to believe you were invisible. That way we didn't have to acknowledge in disgust or guilt the fact that you were here. Whether in summer shine, or autumn chill, our faces remained turned away.
I picture the warmth of my home whilst letting my eyes surreptitiously examine your meagre belongings, heaped untidily onto a supermarket trolley. I pause, as the Christmas Eve shoppers push their way past me, and the world slows, just for a second.
It feels like a year.
I wonder at the ignorance, my own included, as I brushed past you so many times before, the hem of my warm winter coat skimming your empty battered polyst
To Bed, For LifeToday we lay a child to rest,
Daddy cries in Sunday best,
Through mamas veil they cannot see,
The tears she cries to set her free.
Granny clutches Grandpas arm,
As through the graveyard eerie calm
Rides the wind into the crowd,
The vicars voice unnaturally loud.
We celebrate a life so short,
And for her heart we spare a thought,
A loving family cruelly bereft,
Of a baby girl who to quickly left.
The mourners raise a voice as one,
Faces turned towards the sun,
They scatter Lilys where she lies,
And sing her to sleep with lullabies.
They crumble soil a loving trace,
And her bed shifts in its resting place,
And once its done they do not stir,
The wholesome earth that covers her.
LoveYou wake one day to find me gone,
And at once you start to search,
Looking through the house for me,
And running down to church.
Call off the dogs, They'll find no trace,
I leave behind mere dust.
Don't fret yourself at where I am,
Just because you think you must.
Don't drive the streets of where we loved,
Or question all our friends,
Don't shed a tear for me my dear,
Where I am, Our life ends.
So don't make a noise, Or shout my name,
You no longer shall despair.
Stay in the warm and search your heart,
For you shall find me there.
PreciousTo you who I dare not voice this aloud to for fear of screwing it up:
I want to say that I'm being a bit of a sap at the moment and I hope that does not somehow effect the outcome of what I'm about to tell you. And to be honest, I don't really know how else to say it nor do I care to beat around the bush, so - quite bluntly - here it is: I love you.
And here's where I pause and look at those words and know that I mean it. You see, I don't think I ever fully appreciated those words until a few moments ago when I realized how true they are - for you, I mean. I mean, of course I like you - but somehow like doesn't explain or complete describe what I feel for you. (I also wonder about the discrepancy between using Je t'aime and Je t'adore, but I digress.)
Let's face it - everybody uses those words on a daily basis and I think that nobody uses them quite the way that I mean it. Clarification: I've used those words with my family and I mean it with them because love for my fami
it's raining in our hearts.four months ago, the weather was warm but the sky was dark except for little glowing drops of light that sliced through the darkness and pounded on your cracked windshield. the wipers were screaming back and forth cutting the comfortable silence we sunk into. your knuckles were white on the steering wheel as if the bones were begging to get out and i swear, i could hear your heart beating from my seat eighteen inches away. your eyes kept straying from the road to my face as i stared decidedly out the window watching the storm build and calm in the reflection of my eyes as the sky poured color infused water droplets on us. i wanted to pretend like this wasnt the most beautiful thing id ever seen since that would never count for anything. i wanted to pretend like this wasnt perfect since that tends to be so short-lived. but it was beautiful and perfect as you parted your lips and let your heart sing. it was raining outside when you said you loved me.
a week a
Sitting here with my head
in my hands
Crying tears that shouldn't
Talking to myself again
Thinking there's someone
here with me
Feeling emptiness within
Trying to replace what should
Imagining a place in time
Happy with this life of mine
Sadness all around me
Seeping into my soul
Aching for attention
It's taking control
Seeking revenge on
the should have been
Psychotic with this pain
Homicidal to myself
I can't win in this life
Forever losing in this fight
Surrendering to the lies
I've lost the strength to cry
FearWithin this place, as you lie awake
You begin to realize your mistake
Darkness surrounds you, you are not alone
Everything you thought is now unknown
Your fears come to life, denying you sleep
Sanity becomes almost too hard to keep
But you hold on, it subsides
You're just happy you're alive
Another night, another day
Hope for tomorrow it will go away
The Fallon days when the rain pours,
i sit under the awning and twiddle my little thumbs,
staring at the sky with my little eye.
my wishes aren't answered on shooting stars,
but on the roars of thunder and the heat of lightning.
a storm is brewing inside my mind
and my rancid tongue of dirty words
is shooting like an automatic
because of something irrational.
my calloused fingers run over flames
and all my prayers are answered with pain.
i'm trapped in that corner again,
and self reliance is all that remains.
i'm going crazy because everything is crumbling.
even when i stand up, i end up stumbling.
all i know is going tumbling, and even though i know
we can get through it. my mind is racing, and all i can think
sealing your pain beneath mineyou read me like an open book;
ink splattered at the tips of your
lips and each sentence was
wrapped with lies but the
pretty words make you happy;
and seeing you happy
made me happy.
just a little
with a heart carved from
stone, I try to be constant;
yet I'm weathered by the
rain as you continued to
kick me into the cracks of
the sidewalk; but I saw
you smile as I landed in
the spot that you wanted
me to be; and seeing you
smile made me
smile. just a little
I'm like a picture you want
to burn; ignited from your
hatred and anger, flames
dancing under the midnight
sun; I saw you cry and
I wanted to cry as well, but
seeing your tears made
because when you
cry, I'll steal your tears
away and seal your pain
I'm The Path Of Destruction.Follow me,
Im the path of destruction,
Ill close all your doors,
Ill lead you to corruption.
Im the bringer of pain,
Ill tear you down,
Ill form acid rain.
Ill lower your self esteem,
Ill mess with your mirrors,
Ill cause you to scream.
Ill break your heart,
Take my hand,
Ill tear you apart.
Im the path of destruction.
Excuse me...Excuse me, Miss, are you aware you're dead?
It seems like you're bleeding a bit at the head.
It's been quite a while since you took your last breath,
'Scuse me, Miss, do you even remember your death?
Do you remember your life? Oh no, what a shame.
Now, wait, you barely even remember your name?
Remember what he called you, oh so long ago?
He called you like fire, then melted like snow.
But where is he now, why'd he let you die?
Where have you been, child? Oh no, please don't cry.
Don't you know that your friend has been waiting for you?
It's been months gone by, maybe years and years too.
But he's still here waiting, for five years, for ten.
Come, child, would you like to live once again?
If I Were a PoetIf I were a poet I'd spin you a line
An embroidery of words etched in silvery twine
A tapestry woven of rhythm and rhyme
And stitch it all up with each tittle and jot
If I were a poet but a poet I'm not.
If I were a poet I'd cook you a stew
A lyrical soup, a most nourishing brew
With couplets for gravy and iamb for my rue
And boil it in a pentameter pot
If I were a poet but a poet I'm not.
If I were a poet we'd take to the seas
With paragraph sails and a literate breeze
And sail on our starship to far galaxies
We'd keep captain's logs of the treasures we sought
If I were a poet but a poet I'm not.
If I were a poet I'd write you a page
Full of musical wisdom so rhyming and sage
A verse to let open the door to your cage
And give you the taste of the freedoms you've sought
If I were a poet but a poet I'm not.
It's OkayThe piano keys are black and white,
Fireworks only work at night,
Stars are dead in pure daylight,
Thoughts and dreams fall out of sight.
But amongst the bland are shades of grey,
Music works in colourful ways,
A run of chords played yesterday,
Their melodies life your fears away.
Fireworks replace the dying sun,
Stars are there and do live on,
Dreams will stay with everyone,
And when today is over, tomorrow will come.
Bursts of colour, an endless sea,
Let it go, what will be will be.
Embrace your life, and naturally,
It will be okay youll see.
Well get there and by and by
Way up there in a sun-dipped sky,
Youll soon realise that its not a lie,
We dont need a pair of wings to fly.
And fireworks light the end of day,
Black and white, when mixed, make grey,
If you fail they love you anyway,
Were all as one...and its okay.
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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