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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:24:07 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 105063
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Untitled For July
[time] => 2005-09-05 00:48:04
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => We said goodnight But I think we knew we wanted to say more Because on nights that end like these We have made them the blackest And not even morning herself could change it I could stay up all night and day just thinking about him Good thing my sleepy eyes don’t agree You are the light of day The voice of the hurting The pain in each smile I keep wanting to say those words But when I look around, he’s not there Who else am I to blame? These broken words? These broken minds? I can’t help but say that no one else is like him Though, so selfishly I wish I could. And those are the days I can feel so fragile So lonesome without him Without his face, his lips, his beauty It is in conclusion that I’d rather be submerged Than have this broken heart Memories can kill you more than any knife or gun He has no idea how much I miss his city I never told him I loved him Nor will I ever Because these phases of oblivion are never-ending I’m not content with these nights of longing I need his words, his touch, his eyes It is in the feeling to try and keep what I never had Fight for one more hello, just one more goodbye He does not know that such pain like this exists And I hope he never does Because he is as beautiful as each sunrise, each sunset Perhaps more I believe And my soul’s sky would be forever gray if he ever did His love does not belong to me Such pain, such agony that twists up inside me And burns through every opened map It is what keeps me up when the moon is hanging low And the distance tears at every sign of hope This destruction happens at every new skyline I curse these thoughts that have stretched each mile to its fullest And brought me down to a state which I have lived in too long I cannot forget him, cause if I did I’d surely die In the belief that no perfection has ever existed He is my comfort, my haven from despair Yet then he is my sadness and the salt in each tear His voice is the breath that I so desperately gasp for I choke on the lament I live with each day He is worth it, I promise he is It is not I, who deserves such elegance and beauty But who needs the blackest skies, shriveled moon, and forgotten face [comments] => 0 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 22 [informant] => spreadyourwings [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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