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‘Cross the sea is an island, at least they all say,if you sit still and listen, you can actually hearthe king of said island, calling your name...
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Yesterday’s sands are whipping my face -They scour my eyes and stifle my pace;Filling my lungs as I’m gasping for airForsaken by love, so ..
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The sun flicks a sheen 'cross her long curly hairAnd reflects from the depths of her eyes of despairAnd projects her despair through my skin to my sou..
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I'll be me
and you be you,
but chances are
we can't be two;
For I see
what you're blind to -
and chances are
I'm blind to you.
Few can se..
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Life is a road
and we're all in cars
and we are all driving
not knowing how far
My car is gray
The inside is all black
and I'm towing four oth..
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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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She was a dark-haired girl and beautiful, and he was a dark-haired man and handsome, although neither of them would have described themselves as such...
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It was Friday morning and it had been three days since I’d spoken with my father when he called me, but I was working and I did not answer. He c..
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Inspired by all the callousness in society, where people are more inclined to stand by and watch suffering, rather than stopping and helping, I hope t..
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A sample of time is all that we're givenA blink of an eye in this placeIt slips through our fingers, and as well as we hideThe reaper continues to pac..
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This is a poem I wrote for my son. It's subject to change and it may be posted here temporarily. Enjoy.
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