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7 small words
It's not that I don't love you...
She said with a shake in her voice, a break in her step, a faulter in her stride. It's not that I don't love you... He said on his way out the door, on his way out of their life, on his way to another womans arms. It's not that I don't love you... I said as I stared her in the eyes, knowing all the while that I did, that I only wanted what was best. It's not that I don't love you... He said to the women as she lay on her deathbed,as he tried his best to say his goodbye, only to watch her fade before he could speak his final words. Seven words is all it takes to avoid a lifetime of change. |
awww Q_Q did you write that?
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wow I'm jealous, people on jf are so creative :O
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lol well the only "poetry" i can do is acrostic poems :D
i could never right that^ |
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If you have other works in this style, you may look at your talents from more professional perspective... Cheers! |
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hmmm...Shouldn't they rhyme if they were to be song lrics? Cuz I'm bad at rhyming >_< |
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Did i say rap lyrics? i said song lyrics and they don't have to be with rhymes. Most of the great rock/metal songs don't have any... And specifically this poem, would sound grrrreat when sung... |
Hmmm...I've decided to revive this thread as my personal poetry thread! Expect a lot of late in the day entries, if any, cuz thats when I think of my poems, 4 some reason 0_o.
I stare blankly at the broad smile before me, brown eye's that shine like copper. You twist and turn to a beat that no one else seems to hear, skirt down on your ankles fraying in the wind, and I only watch from the outside. What am I to you? I wonder as I search your smile for the answer. Why do you talk to me? Smile for me? Is it love? No, I say, life is not so fair. But still I smile back. Because I am in love. I'm sure you notice, the faulter in my step, the change in my expressions. I am not who I am with you, I am who I've always wanted to be. And yet you are so very much the same. What am I worth to you, why can't I think straight? Why is it that all I hear is sex, sex, sex, yet when I see you all I can think is holding hands? What does that mean? And why, I ask desperatly, as the intentions behind those brown eye's that shine like copper fall slowly out of my view. Why is it you? My current feelings on love, not directed at a true person as much as my strange way of viewing relationships at my age. I'd rather kiss a girl than skip straight to sex. Is that just because I haven't done these things yet? So, here is how I search myself for answers...Again, i'm not sure it's poetry, but it's symbolism, and it's whats in my heart... |
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