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  Whiny Hermione liked to groan and complain. She whined when it was sunny.  She whined when it rained, and Monday through Sunday,  it didn’t matter what day, Hermione would groan 
Was it given to me at birth The perspective of my parent Their collective history Or the passing of time   What do the trees call me When I pass by their brothers Run my hands through the leaves
I wish there was a collection of words I could say to you. A phrase to stop the clock from ticking in the dark. To bring back the lights if just for a moment. Cast away the darkness so that I may see your face, one more time.
When my name died I did not mourn itI did not bury my name in the back yard with Fluffy and Fido Covering my name with flowersInstead I just just stood thereWatching it parish as the truth of my words cut through it
I will not fear my name, cowering in the shadow of traits and opinions,
weird kidscool kidscrazy kidsgang kids of all of thatwe are all still kids
My mother wanted to name me Nina. The dreamer. Talented, highly flavored and strong. A woman whose voice spanned generations.
I love everything about myself I don’t care if my confidence offends you lack thereof I don’t care if a billion dollar industry is hurt
My name By Hannah Beasley   A name is but a label that has branded us for life Hannah A name such as my own, Biblical in nature
Sick of the way my mind is because society told me how to be before I could find anything out for myself.   Sick of being called names and tired of all of the labels that "don't mean shit"...
Names are so much more than words. They have emotions and feelings. They carry memories, the precious and the painful. They are the titles of our soul. They have power, if we let them.
When you’re young, people always ask you,“What do you want to be when you grow up?”And now that I’m growing, my answer has changed,I don’t want to be a chef or a singer or an actor.
On a black granite wall. None above another. In rank or awards. All equal. In death. As it should be. In Honor Glory. We pray. Eternal Rest. May they lay.
Are just words to tell who you are.Now some are calling today's generationSnowflakesBecause they think.This generation is too delicateThey also used that termFor folks they hate.This is not the wayTO MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN
I know my names, I know each and every one. I wear them each without shame, I clothe myself in the light of their sun.   I am stressed,
If I see you and you don't see me I will go DARLING And you will know I am calling to you
two o’clock in the morning. your tired voice is reaching for mine through the telephone wire. and this is all i know you needing me and me being given, but something about my name
7 weeks since6 letters2 spellings1 deadI'm alive Her name meant“pure beauty”but nothing beautiful comes from the soundof my,hers,our name. The two syllables of a seemingly innocent name turns myheart into a tornado,my mind into a volcano. Her name
My name is Nayely as you can see it seems hard to pronounce I used to never write a poem about me  because nothing rhymes with Nayely  but as you can see not a single  word has to rhyme in a poem
I remember, Age four or five, Hiding behind a pillar with a grin, An adult playfully asking my name. My face splitting with a grin, “Anna Uitvlucht.” Uitvlucht. Rolling of Oma’s tongue,
I go in the coffee shop around 11:26, I stop before moving forward again, I have seen him for the past 3 month, oh god his smile always met me at the door, he always get the same thing small hot green tea amd a doughnut,
On the first day of kindergarten music class, i cried because the teacher asked me to sing ‘my name is rachel’ and i thought it sounded dumb.
My name means City of Trent, I think that is pretty stupid. My name can’t be defined by history because I am the present. I am now. Its meaning is constantly changing, It will never be just a few words.
I see a 'Wall' Were images are reflected. From the names. Of those that went. And met their fate. They had no choice. Or deferment. From their fate.
On The Vietnam Memorial Strung across slabs  Of black granite, I wonder what stories.  They might tell? Of their Dreams. And their Fears. ~ Ricardo
In a world where people are periodically posting pics and sending selfies to fellow citizens, there is a surprising amount of self hate surrounding the subject.
When you look at the world What do you see? Do you view your food and friends in Mayfair and Valencia? Your wasting your time deciding which accent makes your skin look tan
Maybe I'm crazy and insane. Maybe we are not the same. But now I know what I see. Every time you look at me. It's innocence, That light. A light that shines through any dark night. And tho you are far away. These words I still have to say.
When I take a picture   I smile and stare at my relfection.   My mind wonders if they will like it   if they will see me the way  I see me.  
I am a woman who can do it all Even though I am so small I have so much potential  because I know most of the essentials
In and from this world what do we really want?
Blood as red as a rose They said death was something that you just chose Truthfully it chose you
Perfect this.
My mother named me strong, but never minded weakness. My relative, but not ‘family’, name sound like a sewer, a reflection of my life, overflowing with excrement and unpleasantness, full of rats.
Silver ribbon Assiniboinea sash for a city--a ceinture fléchéetied into the Red just off Highway 1          You leak into the topsoil           in the place you call home          and come back up a street map
I have a name I smile as I write it down That means something
This is just a list of some positive and negative names I have been called..I'll start with the negatives Goody-two shoes Teacher's pet Whore Selfish Thoughtless Irresponsible Crazy
When i was born My mom wanted to name me Roxann, MY dad would not allow her to due to the once popular song by the police
  does your name define you or do you describe your name say you were named Paula would you not act like a Lauren what is the meaning of naming everything is it to categorize
We are all born with a name.
Far away a lone flower blooms. Alive only by the soft light of the moon. In a dream she catches the whisper of a tune. The song of the lost and lonesome loon. Hear the melody it is destined to croon.  
You kill me with your labels, Your brands, your terms, your names. But I will rise above it, I am finished with your games.   Don't write me down in history, By calling me this or that.
They didn't give me a stone (I didn't want one) They didn't mark my grave No name remembered But that's okay I wanted this To be forgotten Ashes scattered to the wind. No name left
In English, my name denotes culture; In Spanish, it represents a beautiful bird with a sonorous melody. It means devotion, it means standing out. It is like the number seven. An ardent yellow.
I hold my pool stick funny The way my dad showed me the little V my thumb and finger knuckles make I sometimes hold your name there because my fingers can't seem to find a note to sing
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