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Poem


Posts: 1346

Roses are red, violets aren't green. Rip a tree on half a piece of bread, in scared of spoons.

Posts: 504
Poem

Very well done.

Posts: 821
Poem

Like Irish twins, you and I


How's that balance?


Is one eye fine?

Posts: 7645
Poem

 

by Cain

Roses are red, violets aren't green. Rip a tree on half a piece of bread, in scared of spoons.

 Was this supposed to have some specific meaning?

Posts: 1842
Poem

:) Pretty.

Posts: 64
Poem

time to presume that which one knows not

assume that with one will come another

and one day possibly this earths sun will explode

taking with it the spirits and souls of infants left unborned

thrones left to be throned and a whole world yet to build

and in this single moment, as the night sky is emblazened in a fiery inferno of death

i know the beginning to the end is just another page blowing in the wind.

 

Posts: 1231
Poem

The garden kept overgrowing with unwanted flowers.

I kept cutting them, but they just laughed at me.

Growing back, they made me smile at my own resignation.

So I kept cutting, until I saw the one flower that was sad.

I asked it "why do you not do as all the others do to me?".

It answered "I see you water the garden every day".

I never cut a flower since. I just water them now.

 

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That was very nice, V o V.

Posts: 1231
Poem

Why, thank you me dear.

Here is one for you then.

 

"My skin is my story.

I try to feel what I tell through it.

I never thought a hide would define me.

Still I bear, what becomes of my images.

They speak of a life I don't know how to forget.

I always remember my skin."

Posts: 504
Poem

I will assume that is a true story.

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