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The last cigarette, glowing to the end smoke rises, killing to fill your hunger
This Christmas, Is love, happiness and forgiveness forget the wealth it’s good spirits
The pencil my blood And paper lined the same Like each and every vein They carry the graphite I used to write through the night
your cigarette glows over the TV… grey clouds emanate in this grotes…
Add new poem for what, this world is fucked for every word the pencil should b… to paper not through a blogging lifeless ha…
I hear all the wind, whispers and… For only the wise listen to the ea… With no intent to reply, Only to understand. Why can’t I be like that wise old…
To be a poet. Is it knowing self-worth? If that is truly something, It wasn’t given at birth. Words are sharp, they cut like kni…
expressions endless as the horizon from high to low washing away as the tides do some so afraid to smile for risk o…
There was a time, a story, and a t… A eager girl clung to a trunk and… Motors rumbled the mind of a man b… Bells struck, as did hammers, the… His cries unheard, climbing anothe…
Where does one start his journey t… If a picture is worth a thousand, nowadays in public housing, it would only say, “In God We Tr… But it is never enough,
Haven’t you heard! There is srength by numbers My family has been torn for years… What reasons, I wondered. Now we are like strangers.
love is like a rollercoaster you build up all these emotions like fear of falling and suspense of reaching the top, anticipation and its purest, once you get up the hill you have to mak...
The more things change The more I feel strange The times on my mind Are hard to find real But somehow still remains
Waves come and go while the tides forever roll clocks turn, and the sun will set Always under the weather But I’m not ready yet
another caffeinated week and I’m stuck wandering in my dreams a… feeling so damn beat yet all I can do is smile whats going out of style