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This is a rough draft, im still very much working on this. Also I'm still working on the ending.
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I've changed and I've grown. The one thing that stayed consistent was my love for poetry. I feel that my growth shows itself in it's writing, hopefull..
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an ember, proof flame burned brightand a testament, proof it tried to fightsmothered, the flame was lost with its lightand darkness, refills the night..
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i spend most nightsalone at the barat the end of the streetnext to gas stationsand weed dispensarieslonely men, come and gothrough those beaten doorso..
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This is not mine, Alan Moore wrote this. I am adding it here for context to my last poem. Definitely read "Batman: The killing joke." I absolutely lov..
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a man with a flashlightto beam my path acrosson a path of one insanity, to anotherensure no missteps, it would be a deadly dropa man behind mewith no ..
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your favorite order,from the chinese place on the corner.and wooden chopsticks,because plastic wasnt worth the call.i remember each beautiful moment, ..
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there comes a point in time,where you're faced with Frost's familiar roads.it seems i blazed through though, with my eyes closed.unaware of which way ..
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i would not say i am neighborlybut always sit around for cigarettes and teaand i might say what seems accordingthose patterned conversations, i breath..
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bay doors rip and clash into an open positionwith blaring alarms flashing their concernsred strobes, personifying, my otherwise pale facelooking down ..
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