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Literature Text
I love the way you smile at me.
It gives me hope of what could be.
I love the way you speak.
And your most evident evil streak.
I love the way you listen.
While your teeth shine and glisten.
I love the way you play like a child.
Always wonderfully wacky and wild.
I love the way you don't notice my stare,
The way you leave your soul open, bare.
I love the way you walk,
And pffft, I most certainly do not stalk.
It gives me hope of what could be.
I love the way you speak.
And your most evident evil streak.
I love the way you listen.
While your teeth shine and glisten.
I love the way you play like a child.
Always wonderfully wacky and wild.
I love the way you don't notice my stare,
The way you leave your soul open, bare.
I love the way you walk,
And pffft, I most certainly do not stalk.
Literature
I've Changed (Yeah right)
I've Changed (Yeah right):
You know, I tell myself everday,
That I'm going to change - that I'll be different.
'This isn't the same; I'm not the same,' that's what I tell myself...
As I sit in front of the computer, praying time doesn't move.
Coward, you're weak and you'll always be weak! You bloody disgrace...
I pick up some new magazine, get inspired,
'I want to be like that guy,' is what I think to myself.
I give it a try for two or three days - I quit.
Same old shit again...
Making up excuses? It's what you always do, you gutless wonder...
I try to reach out with my hands,
Seeking something, anything that I can find to help myself ho
Literature
R.I.P.
Did anyone notice that she winced if you raised your arm?
Did anyone notice that her eyes were wide with alarm?
Did anyone notice that she never looked you in the eye?
Did anyone notice that her voice was but a sigh?
Did anyone notice that her skin was always bruised?
Did anyone question whether she might be abused?
Did anyone question why she walked in obvious fear?
Did anyone question why one day she did not appear?
Did anyone recognize her face on the six-o’clock news?
Did anyone see her remains pulled from the river refuse?
Did anyone care that this quiet girl no longer exists?
No. No one did. And she will never even be missed.
R.I
Literature
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
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Well, this is most probably a love poem gone wrong. Was trying to write a romantic poem that would not come off as cliche, but one thing led to another... and here we have a poem about a stalker! Might delete it later.
© 2012 - 2024 therealanonymous
Comments11
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Nice one! Ending made me giggle.