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Literature Text
I don't often cry,
Because when you ask,
Is when I finally do.
I do it for you.
To show you that you scared me.
To show you that I care.
To show you when you went away,
I was scared that you weren't there.
Because when you ask,
Is when I finally do.
I do it for you.
To show you that you scared me.
To show you that I care.
To show you when you went away,
I was scared that you weren't there.
Literature
To the Child
To the Child
To the child we never got to know
To the child who's eyes never opened
Who's laugh we never heard
Who's voice never spoke
Who's touch we never felt
To the child we will never see grow
To the child taken too soon
To that wonderful child that lives with angels
You are a child blessed with love
Know as you watch from that golden heaven each day
Everyday we live on we will love you
We will carry you with us as we go forward
To that blessed child
From the parents and siblings
Aunts and uncles and cousins
The grandparents
From everyone who you've touched
To that child may that love reach you
And may that love help guide us all
Literature
Afraid
Why do days that start so sunny
Have to have clouds
They gather, swirl and twist
Overcast and sudden rain
Lightning and thunder
I wore a sun dress
But you brought the storm
I just want to hold on
To the little bit of love
That I can still call mine
Losing even a tiny piece
Leaves me terrified
Of becoming empty
Don't say it's for my own good
When you want to change me
Every time you tell me
I'm not ideal, I'm living wrong
I wonder why it matters now
Years wasted when you could of
Shaped me
Guided me
Lead me
To being this better person
Why am I the failure when
You failed me first
Literature
Untitled
The silent cry that controls my perception,
Remains the constant reason and excuse for me hesitation,
Questions are never enough, science can lead,
Answers are half truths, religion I can't believe,
The sound of my confusion; my fleeting heart,
The strings of DNA, my family no longer take part,
There is a pile of positive thoughts, arranged in a heap,
My only friend; my teddy bear continues not to speak,
Inception of directions points more than one direction,
Can I live without the band aid I hide behind? The needed infection,
Blood remains trapped, always a single thought under the surface,
This prison of skin, my knife attempts to evolve a
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The second stanza -- which I assume is some sort of refrain -- is the best stanza I've seen on any work today. It's simply phenomenal, and I can even hear it put to music in my mind when I read it.
The first needs a bit of polishing, but it's far from bad in its own right.
The first needs a bit of polishing, but it's far from bad in its own right.