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So many times I thought about yesterday
A day that I was innocent in every way
When I was just a little girl who was playing all day
And just cried when someone ruined my day.
Ma. Cristina Colima
Last night I fell asleep watching the moon from my bedroom window
I imagined that you were watching it too
And for that moment
I know we've come a long way,
I know I'm no longer a part of you.
Yet I remember like it was yesterday,
Precious words that were few.
Red is the color of love
But; 4 me red
Is a color of stop
My red signal;my periods
I looked upon the life
There were lows and highs
In between I found trapped in ties
It is dream to fly in the sky
A Servant To Servants
I didn't make you know how glad I was
To have you come and camp here on our land.
I promised myself to get down some day
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!
You pretty soul in the back seat
Your diamond voice is super neat
It wows me like a magical trick
It does make me want to flirt
Walking miles and miles,
In search of lost smiles.
I wonder where it's gone,
Or someone has stolen it leaving me alone.
Her baby was so full of glee,
And through the day
It laughed and babbled on her knee
In happy play.
Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah, heave her short again!
Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards aback and full-
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all!
Am going to write my story in words
Been that girl who fell in love a little bit late
After walking away from the one I loved
Then did my best to try and correct my mistakes
Song Of Myself
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I Am A Killer
My name is depression and I am a killer,
I am everywhere, I am the darkness, the grief, the sadness.
Once I enter your head, it would be hard for you to get me off of your system.
The Girl She Once Was
she doesn't feel herself anymore
shes now like a frozen version
thin and pale
she slips and fell through the cracks unaware,
Ode To Walt Whitman
By the East River and the Bronx
boys were singing, exposing their waists
with the wheel, with oil, leather, and the hammer.
Ninety thousand miners taking silver from the rocks
Federico Garcàa Lorca
The Little Hurts
Every night she runs to me
With a bandaged arm or a bandaged knee,
A stone-bruised heel or a swollen brow,
And in sorrowful tones she tells me how
Edgar Albert Guest
News From Babylon
“Archaeologists have discovered a love-letter among the ruins
of Babylon.”-Newspaper report.
The world hath just one tale to tell, and it is very old,
“Jessie, Jessie Cameron,
Hear me but this once,” quoth he.
“Good luck go with you, neighbor's son,
But I'm no mate for you,” quoth she.
In The Garden
Aylmer's Garden, near the Lake. LAURENCE RABY and ESTELLE.
Come to the bank where the boat is moor'd to the willow-tree low;
Adam Lindsay Gordon
Walking through the rain,
I try to forget the pain.
I try to ignore the sting in my eyes,
because I know a strong girl never cries.
The forest ended. Glad I was
To feel the light, and hear the hum
Of bees, and smell the drying grass
And the sweet mint, because I had come
The Tree's early leaf buds were bursting their brown;
“Shall I take them away?” said the Frost, sweeping down.
“No, leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown,”
I Thought You Were Mine
On the first day we met
I knew that you were my soulmate
Everytime you look into my eyes,
I couldn't speak I'd feel butterflies in my tummy....
Under the death of winter's leaves he lies
who cried to Nothing and the terrible night
to be his home and bread. 'O take from me
the weight and waterfall ceaseless Time
A Song Of Suicide
Deeming that I were better dead,
“How shall I kill myself?” I said.
Thus mooning by the river Seine
I sought extinction without pain,
Oh my forever,
When the world was a empty shell
You walked into my life to make it all well
I saw that glimpse of you as my girl
When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;
The Waste Land
‘Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis
vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent:
Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo.'
T. S. Eliot
You will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,