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I’ve always been told,
Good stories have a beginning, middle and end,
Not necessarily in that order.

Chapter 1:

Every time I use to talk to you,
My speech sounded more
Like Morse code.
See, ‘cause small talk to me,
Is the civilian equivalent
Of trying to diffuse a bomb.


Chapter 2:

I wrote you letters
You never read.
I think I’m wasting my time.

Chapter 3:

I’m trying to relight old matches,
As if it will rekindle flames
That have vanished long ago,
Or make a house
Rise from the ashes.

Chapter 4:

I built you a house,
Made out of our memories.
I hope it can shelter you
From pain.

Chapter 5:

In my dream, your silhouette
Tried to engulf me.

I managed to escape,
But I wish it had.

Chapter 6:

I burned the house down,

Chapter 7:

You’re a 6 year old girl
From China
I’m a 3rd generations Asian-Canadian
Looking for a place I belong.

I don’t know you.
You don’t know me.

Chapter 8:

I managed to tell you I’m awkward.
I’m way too comfortable in my own skin
To ever try to conquer yours.

And every time you get too close,
My body turns red,
As if it was trying to ignite a fire
To get you to run away.

Chapter 9:

I’m a 90 year old
Who’s recovering
From kidney failure.

You’ve long since exited
My life, I hope you’re fine.

Chapter 10:

We’re lighting candles together
In The basement.

Chapter x:

Now our story is at
Some variable of a number,
I’ve always been told,
Good stories have a beginning, middle and end,
Not necessarily in that order.

And Maybe,this is the part of the story
Where I start over again.

Chapter 0:
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

Felt nostalgic yesterday, so I wrote about an outdated topic.

Inspired by Phil Kaye's poem of the same name. Check it out here:…


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The earth cries,
Its roars of weeping billow across the sky with deafening volume.
The clouds groan under the weight of their own tears,
The ground is flooded with their sadness.
All over the world, people mourn.
His family and friends, his fans...
Parents, grandparents, and children alike.
We have lost a role-model, a childhood...
All mourn for the loss of a legend..
A hero to many.
One who has bestowed so much happiness,
So much laughter and encouragement,
While he himself battled a war within his being.
How could this be? We ask ourselves.
How could someone so great
Fall to such depths?
But as these inquiries burn in our minds,
There is something greater to cling to within our hearts...

The mark he has left on the world.

I.....I can't even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that he's really gone. And by suicide, no less...

All day yesterday and today it's been raining in my area... Suits the situation, I guess... :tears:

:heart: RIP, Robin. You will never be forgotten :heart:

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Nobody has the answers
But everybody has the Y’s.

Speculations of a faultless green pasture,
Based on a line of best fit that was drawn to lie.

The solution is a sequence of random numbers and dates.
In addition to a complicated sum of love, grief, fear and hate.

Which form a unique equation that can never be revealed.
It’s the only bit of ignorance that still remains concealed.

Even though we may feel defenseless.

The possibilities are endless.

The opportunities are relentless.

Opinions become senseless

And still we lie restless.

Attempting to solve the unsolvable

And control the uncontrollable.

To know the unknowable.

Kela Lewis-Morin
Something I wrote today when I was on my break at work lol I just got to thinking about the many questions people have that have no possible answer. Also how math and arithmetic cannot be applied to figure out every scenario, some things are not meant to be answered. Well that is what I believe anyway lol I hope it makes sense and I hope you guys like it :)
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I want to stomp you down
like the spiders crawling
on the bathroom floor
at two am:

desperate and panicked
in the dark,
tired and eager
to finish you
and leave you to twitch
on glistening tiles.

gristle between your teeth,
you have cracked open
one too many torsos.

your ax-chopped halves
all ooze red longing
for you and your lips,
your warm arms,
but I know your touch
is really a sting
help meeeee my entire family is in a uproar and they're all arguing and i knew this was going to happen so i've been hiding in my room writing poetry for the past three hours and they've been yelling and i'm so nervous i feel like i'm going to have a heart attack.

living in my house is sort of like living on the ocean: calm seas, and then storms and shipwrecks.

i don't handle confrontation of any kind well and i'm not dealing with any of this 

© 2014 littleblueraccoon
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You taught me
the meaning of the word
When I was a child
you were my favourite one, 
your movies made
me dream about
a better future,
about who I would become
when adult. 
Your characters were full
of hope and joy. 
You were my hero.
You will be forever in my heart!
Oh captain my captain,
thanks for making me happy
when I was a child,
and thanks for making me happy
everytime I watch your movies.
Sorry if this poem and my english
suck, but it's the best I can do
while I'm about to cry...
One day we'll see in another 
world, but until that moment comes...
..thank you Robin, thank you!
Robin Williams, one of my favourite actors, is dead....I'm so sad....He was my hero when I was a child!!!!! You'll be in my heart forever!!!! Thanks for all the smiles you gave me...I'm sure you'll be able to make God laugh so much.....
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Learn respect.

Chill out.

For God's sake, eat!

Deal with it.

Find a balance and stick with it.

There are people dying for that food you waste.

Control yourself, woman!

Stop being so clingy!

Cheer up!

Do you always have to have the spotlight?

Multiple Personalities?
Yeah right, attention whore.

It's not all about you!

It's not that bad.

Not everyone is out to get you.

You're just weak.

You're a cold one, aren't ya?

Why you gotta be so weird all the time?

Get a grip on reality.

There are better ways to get attention.

Why don't you just kill yourself already?

If you have said any of these things,
To any of these people,
Get a fucking perspective.
If you're going to tell me I'm being mean to these people, I'm going to tell you, you didn't read the ending.

I know a lot of people who are mentally ill, and this poem is for you.


Thank you guys for all the attention. This is amazing.

Edit 2:

I fixed all the spelling errors in this poem.
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Is this all I am to you?
Just something to lose?
Someone to hurt?
To hit and abuse?

Not physically
For that would leave marks
Not even mentally
You go straight for the heart

Like a waterfall cascading
It won't ever stop
I'll be here still waiting
Or so I once thought

I can never fight this feeling
But I can't help that it's here
Maybe it'd be best
If I could just disappear...
Maybe it'd be best
If I could just disappear...

Somedays, that's all I want...
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It jars me
from the fitful terror
of mine own heart
of my hardened soul
as my body moves 
without either's permission 
or allowance,
I let the melody's quake
keep me awake 
though sleep still calls to me
in loving lyrics
I can't let myself believe
else the music may leave me
to dreadful whispers of silence,
I lose myself 
amongst the veins
of dulcet flow 
and elastic beats of rhythm
mimicking what I once hoped 
was a living heart.
Cloaked in another body
of mellifluous hatred and love
I try to conquer my soul
my husk acting the motions
of its siege 
a twirl
a fall
a rise
a silent cry
with a hand reaching
for a sun seen only 
by listening eyes.
I move and listen with my being
offer everything else away,
so the silent cacophony
and succulent whispers of sleep
will leave me.

Couldn't think of a good name. If you hadn't guessed its a poem about dancing, however since dancing is something you feel , i couldn't think of a sufficient way to portray something as purely emotional as dance soooo I wrote imaginative heartfelt gibberish (joke there is actually meaning in this piece)...
Hope everyone enjoys 
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you’re a thief
  dropping in
  from the skies
masked by clouds
and indigo wishes
  with borrowed wings
  and a wistful tune
     on your lips.
© Kimberly Jolanda aka Lady Yume
~ please only share it with credit back to me; thank you Heart

:music: Howard Shore ~ The Thief

Always thankful to all you wonderful people who read my works; all the +watches, comments and fave's are seen - though the last one may go unanswered, they are most certainly not unnoticed (:

Written during Glory Be (2015)
Curious? Visit us here to discover more about the Glory-Be-Project (:
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I took your adjectives for granted. There was something about the way you skipped over your 's'es and gleaned over your 'i's and 'e's, that never really made me want to kiss you. You'd sit there with your languid fingers clutching a book that was half finished, and read me words that were completely mispronounced. It would prickle me under my skin and I would grit my teeth, wondering when you would stop. I would never understand the english language you thought you spoke, and your confidence in your own words annoyed me.

It was comical when you spoke in front of our friends. Your mistaken pronunciation of the word 'pronunciation' in particular made them giggle. I would stand in a corner, clutching a glass of rum and coke and cringe, flushing in second hand embarrassment. You would smile at me from across the room, and continue with your tangled tongue as though nothing was wrong.

I felt sorry for you. But not sorry enough when you took your favourite writing pen from my desk, your dog eared thesaurus and left my apartment for the last time. I would lie if I said I wasn't relieved for the respite from mistaken english and broken words.

It took them screaming at each other next door, the rejection letter arriving, my finger joints beginning to ache for me to realise; I missed your easy enunciation of the word 'beautiful', the crescendo in 'adoration' and yes, even the fluidity in 'talented'. The way your fingers curved at the typewriter, now made me misunderstand my own at the keyboard of a computer.*

I called you today, and you told me she is an English Major, and she loves you most when you argue with your vowels.

You always did speak a language I would never be wise enough to understand.

*I wish most I had remembered the perfect D shape your arm made, when I rested my head on it.
Sometimes people take something for granted, hate it and then figure that was the thing they love most after all.… - general facebookery
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