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I wish I could draw But I pulled the short straw I can explain the woman’s translucent face But others will see her as another race  
There are many people Each holding many things dear However, among them all, There is always one thing, recognized or not, That no one lives without   What does everyone have
I told myself I'd stop caring, but it hurts even more when I pretend that I don't. I'm angry that it got to be her, and not me. She got the first crack, and that crack became the rift that broke your heart, I think.
Life is worth living because of these.     Strum of coastal breeze, sugary and smooth,       lock of hair that flits away from my face.                Rustle of leaves, slight and drifting,
I walked off MeAnd into the Corridor of my houseIt was not the sameHad mirror wallsBoth the walls strangelyRevealed strange imagesOf my familiar self
I only have one shot at this, So I want to do it right. How does one take a selfie, Depicting an authentic sight?  
Poetic words for someone already dead Try to call out warn them of the sorrow
This passion of mine is a craft I refine,  Words Clash and align then get graft into lines.   Disaster and crime get you blast with a nine,  Just for cash or a dime bet you castin' a sign.
Remember that day you felt you could never compare That feeling that life just couldn't be fair Remember the tears that flooded your eyes That feeling that life is a pile of lies
Poetry is images as words
I wish that I didn’t have to tell you how beautiful your body is. I wish that the world would shout about the beauty in the map of your skin. The freckles, stretch marks, bumps and scars
Slanted Like The Leaning Tower Of Pisa I. Am. Slanted. Though I Stand Enchanted By This Hungry Image Of Beauty, That Is About To Crumble, Tumble ,To The Ground, Only To Be Found In One Giant Mess.
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