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I am not very good so don't expect
much!
Royal
Purple Curtains
Royal purple curtains
Billow in the wind
As I gaze to where
We used to kiss
Lush
green grass
Spoiled by overcast clouds
And I long for you
But
all is lost
For I have sent you away,
My foolish heart tricked me,
Tricked me by loving an other.
No
turning back
I continue on...
Head held high
Ready for life
And
now...
Royal
purple curtains sag
My love is gone;
I sent him away.
My foolish heart
Loved an other.
Words
Can't Describe
The words seems as though
To come from within
But truly, I am making them up
As I go.
What
can I say to you
That will make it clear,
I love you.
Those
words I long to say
But love itself keeps me from saying
I once
criticized you
And now I see,
That the criticism is for me.
This
thing I feel...
Love.
This thing called love
Can't be put into words
Its intensity, its longing,
Words can't describe.
Falling
in Love Again
Jet black skies over my island heart
again
Sadness, over whelming
He
comes,
And love begins
The beautiful things: his eyes, his smile
Jumping
into silence
Hoping that my love awaits
Arms wide
Embracing...
Love
And
Jet black skies faded
Into scarlet beginnings
A
Night with the Fountain Tribe
Running
The air is damp
And the dew on the grass sticks to my feet
I am
in a rainforest
Exotic birds squawk
In the distance
Men
are behind me
They have weapons.
Yet,
why I run,
I do not know
But an urgency
Ecompasses me.
I
reach their
Place,
Their holy place:
A fountain
Engulfed in
Red banded polypore.
I
climb
And the mushrooms bend
Under my weight
At last,
The top.
The
tribe seems so small
From where I hide,
Among the
Mushrooms.
Without
warning,
Arrows swarm the air
And I am surrounded.
I jump
Falling freely
Covering my face with my arms
To protect myself from
Another swarm of arrows.
A thud
envelops my body
I have hit the ground.
My
eyes open...
I am in a park.
Hurriedly,
I stand up,
Ready for anything
But nothing comes
Looking
down
I see the fountain
Now miniature
And
the tribe,
Diminutive.
A few
steps over
And I see the Sahara Desert
But everything is so small.
I point my finger, yelling
"I WANT TO GO HERE!"
"Hey!
What are you doing here?"
Interrupted by a man and his child,
I flee
Feelings
of Despair
Ironic isn't it?
That poetry comes only when
Tragedy strikes.
Poetry,
Extracted from our very
Being,
Feeds off pain
And suffering.
Born
from the
Passion in us,
Dies within the
Dream of love.
Only
from this
Feeling of despair
Can beauty emerge.
Ironic
isn't it?
That one can not
Stop the bad from
Entering with the good
So I
say to you,
Be passionate,
Feel pain,
Suffer,
And dream of love.
I
Am
I am an artist
As a cheetah loves to run,
I love to paint.
I am a
sushi-eating
Rugby-player.
A fashion designer
Wannabe.
My
hazel eyes turn GREEN
When I cry
Sorta like how
A tree's branches
Sag in the rain
And all you can see
Is
GREEN
Like a
Daisy's stem,
My favorite flower.
Oh yes
and love,
We can't forget about
Love...
You've got your
Family love
And your
Friend love
And your
Looooooooove love.
I am 16!!
Am I supposed to
Have already felt these
"loves?"
TOO LATE
I am
optimistic
And forgiving,
But mostly
I am determined
To never be
Alone.
I
surround myself with people
But never let them in.
You want to know me?
You're going to have to
EARN IT FIRST.
All
by: Jamie Lucia
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