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I haven’t written to you in a while Not sure if this means I’m moving on Since I haven’t written much of anything lately but I haven’t written to you in a while. And I don’t mean to him
Picture That I picture doubters with their jaws dropped because my words they went and copped I picture family not having to want Those that didn’t swallow their pride won’t have to front
I.   Lines that break on the epitome of sound ring forth like the swells                 ~~~~ of a whale dipping into the sea                                           ~~~~~~~~~  
Many times in school I have felt alone, However, spoken word catches me in it's net. It heals my the the wounds from words that may cause a broken bone.
Smile please... Really, to say the truth I don't know what to write.. I'm not a great person like you to impress... I hope there is no gifts for you, other than my few words in this four papers...
I am written. In words not many know. I am known by the font I type my stories with.
I write in you My mother says it’s childish My innermost thoughts My secrets Locked safely in the tear wrinkled pages of your tattered spirit Burdened with my shameful exploits of debauchery and lust
Written in the stars Is the key to make the door ajar Have a little peek At the weak Minded? I don't mind it Written in the sea Is a ghastly decree The ways, paths, and roads of death
People just don't understand what we go through everday. Sitting here, sitting there trying to make straight A's. Looking at other people making thier grades, then we become afraid,
Let me go, Hard past memories. I don't need To be reminded Of how much You still hurt me. I need to be Released. I refuse to accept, That this is Just how it is.
Butterflies In the night Drift away without a fight Lose myself Lost in you Wondering why, But such a pretty view No more sadness No more pain Watch that blood,
I feel the stress of my life flow out of my mind and onto the page. With the pen gripped tightly in my fingers, I know that everything is all right.
Smokey windows, shattered glass Broken souls looking for healing Coughing, woots and hollers A passing waitress, traveling hands and cat calls Dusty tables and creaky floors One spot light
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