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First comes anger and blame Screaming out your name Then comes the sympathy Of how things could or should've been Soon, thereafter, comes pity Which can be somewhat amusing.
To write about love may be the biggest cliche in the book, but I have in pleasure of being in love. Love is not a term you can throw around. There are different kinds of love.
Learning is crucial to our existence. We all know how it is; learning is not always easy. Learning how to act, how to think, how to live, how to love. When I think of learning, I think about pain.
Frustration takes me over, as the great silence rolls over. My weary heart, it sinks. Negative people around. it stinks. I try to ignore the smell, my best, but inside I'm screaming in protest.
So I our family knows this guy who runs a little shop which sells sweets and savoury foods. He was a nice man with deep blue eyes and a big brown moustache which had turned grey with old age.
3rd Janurary 2000 4:12pm The bitterness of the snow embraced my ankles giving me the feeling of numbness. I pulled tighter on my burgundy scarf, tucking my hair in.
Today I took a very hard test. Seems typical. But it was harder then the rest. They stood and watched me with clip boards in hand. I was so nervous I could barely stand. I started to move the ball.
Sometimes like tonight, I get this curious feeling...like I am meant to be alone. And that alone is me...not these 'lies' of having people. But I've always been wrong...
When I was just a young one, A tiny, wobbling thing. You were always there for me, You taught me everything. I'm crying as I write this, You're beautiful, but you disagree.
I'm scared I'm frightened I am not prepared I was so enlightened Then it came It has burnt my heart As it penetrated like a flame I have lost a part Not of you but of me too.
I am falling down. I am falling and I don't know when to stop. I don't know how I got here. Or how high this is. But I am falling from the top. I am getting sleepy. But I can't sleep.
Poetry to me Is a gift we all possess Poetry to me Is not which ones the best Poetry to me Is about making me feel Poetry to me Is living scenes as...
The blueness of the sky. Rains down from above. Filling my whole self. With sweet memories of love. Your spirit is here with me. Forever remaining close. And even when the sun goes in.
Let's take a walk Down memory lane, Lined with berries, Bursting with colour. But be warned, They're bittersweet. Pleasant at first, They leave a taste, Of moments out of reach, Like fat salty tears.
All my articles have something hidden in them. All you have to do, is read between the lines. The purpose of this article, is to understand how it feels when a person finds that nothing is as it...
There was a storm, and a terrible flood. Flood of tears, such a terrible flood. We danced in the rain, and wailed in pain, when raindrops hit our brain, such immense pain.
Today I found out why you have not been in touch. You are seriously ill and I didn't even know, this sucks. On top of fighting the cancer, the chemo and radiotherapy.
The friends who always ditch you The millions who out-rich you Can't reach. It'll itch you.
At last. I admire her honesty. I knew it. Now she's free. Mind racing. Heart thumping. She's crying. Inside a little piece of me's dying. Gotta be strong. No time to shatter. Listen to Metallica.
'I'm in' I replied. Lucy shot me a worried look. 'pack anything you need and meet me in the morning at the helipad, oh and don't forget your mask this time' she said with a hint of a smile.
Hurt and anger two sides of a coin Hard to be rational when your ire is drawn When to want answers and when to forgive. There's not always a place for live and let live.
Every move we make Moves us from the place were trying to get to,. Trapped by the Current of life,. Every breath we take to stay above water trying to survive,.
Learning.
Lived the dream girls by my side Took the life and enjoyed the ride Together we stood embracing life Whatever happened always wanting a slice.