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I don't have splendid words,
I don't have unique thoughts.

But I've got fingers for match sticks
and when I am god,
it’s all going start the same way
"Let there be light!"

But just enough shine to get by.
Because you work twice as hard,
when there is half the clarity.

For now though, the best I can do
is keep the porch light on.

I know you feel it all
every word that is neglected to be uttered
even by the most wanted of lips,
and your own thoughts,
they make the worst kind of butterflies
ones that play kamikaze with your insides.

Notice how everywhere you go
feels and looks like a ghost town.
At most you surround yourself
with pale faces and dry tongues.

Everything reminds you of nothing
you remind yourself well enough,
and I guess that just twists in you all the more.

It’s like making paper airplanes
with all your dreams written down in them
and throwing it into the wind
with the desire to see gravity never take affect.

[Wondering what will and what won't reach the end.]

You cross your fingers so hard they come close to breaking
you ignore the ache and keep it held just as tight,
maybe broken is the way to make it work.

Revert back to childhood
and wish on every little meaningless thing
dandelions but only if you can blow hard enough,
candles just the same,
even stars but they fail most of all.

I've seen it before,
I've copied the motions
sitting arms wrapped around legs
knees buried deep into forehead.
Spouting random thoughts
and its then that your being your most genuine
strange that your heart finds the time to beat
when you just want to stop all movement.

"For the young this is how they know their in love,
when the ache out weighs the emotion."

But you have seen this road before
so I will spare you the false enlightenment.

Lack confidence, but I will smile for you.
Because truthfully oh constant,
you may flicker but you will never fade.

I will love you though out,
and that will never change.





.............*This is not meant to be beautiful or amazingly poetic,
I wrote it to be helpful, to convey understanding, to express concern, to show love, and offer support for someone very important to me. I do not know if any of these things will come of it but I felt the need to write it. If it does anything for you I guess it wasn't a waste of time.




Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.




If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others

On Wednesday January 23rd, 2008, fallen (300) writes:
No, never a waste, never from you. Another great piece and thanks for sharing it.


On Thursday January 17th, 2008, yru1 (29) writes:
When I read the title, I expected one thing, but reading the poem, I got something else. Very nice work. I love the line about pale faces and dry tongues. This one raises the bar.


On Thursday January 17th, 2008, boughtwithblood (296) writes:
I really like this. especially the stanza about paper airplanes, dreams and gravity. good work.


On Thursday January 17th, 2008, Bella Butchery (1143) writes:
this is beyond dark poetry, and most poetry.


On Thursday January 17th, 2008, Alanarchy (1600) writes:
Definately not a waste of time. Thanks for sharing.


On Thursday January 17th, 2008, An Expired Member (19) writes:
This poem is very touching and soulful. Great work~



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/14542/105864 on Friday September 05th, 2008 06:56 AM

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