Posted by PrttyBrd on September 19, 2008 at 6:30pm
Heavy hearts weigh you down. Long fingers of regret reach far and wide touching all who love you, changing you forever in their eyes. Like a child that holds a chick too tightly, he may never know the “sleep” he induced was eternal, but that doesn’t change the fact that its death was at his hand.
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Posted by PrttyBrd on September 19, 2008 at 6:30pm
Waves of emotion come spewing forthChanneling the pain of othersTaking their sorrow to lessen their burdenAnything to unlock the chainsThat tether to a tortured youth
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Posted by PrttyBrd on September 19, 2008 at 6:30pm
Take responsibility for your actions.But don’t let them define you.Make better choices.Forge ahead.Let go of the past.See things how they are.Release the anger.Let in the sun.and enjoy yourself.
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Posted by PrttyBrd on September 19, 2008 at 6:30pm
A colorless sunset disappearsMelancholy underlies a quiet night aloneItchy feet and restless thoughtsNo sleep for the wearyWhite noise fills the space reserved for real emotionCrippled mind and clogged heartRegurgitating memories trying to feel myselfComfort in the absence of painA vapid existenceA quiet night alone
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Shades of gray pave the wayTo a rockslide of moralityHonesty; when it gets you somethingLowered standards make the gradeSubmission no longer requires a beatingConsequences be damnedVillage idiots rule the worldSilenced massesHopeless and witheredBlinded by conformity
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Perhaps letting someone peruse the pages of my little book of crappy thoughts wasn't the best idea. Now, with the passing of time and no word, I can't help but wonder if the ugly that I puked onto those pages made her run for the hills. Didn't really think I was that scary. Who knew?I would say that this will churn itself into even more useless wasted ink. At least I use recycled paper. Woo Hoo!!!
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Three hours of talking outside myself has left me slack-jawed and stupefied. Do I really love the sound of my own voice? I think not. Sometimes a mind just needs to pour off the excess in the most accessible fashion.
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From a chrysalis to a butterflyAs her wings slowly unfurlHer colors emerge, brilliant and beautifulPatterns so mesmerizing;It is almost unimaginableWhere did she come from?Where will she go?To see her becoming is ethereal.A child as any other into a woman so amazing she glows from within. Britlie, my niece, my joy, and my hope. I love you.
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For those out there who need more convincing, check this out...http://www.poconorecord.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080506/MULTIMEDIA02/80505016
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As a child, you can't wait to grow up to never have to do chores. You never expect that chores can run together like melted ice cream and take over existence in its entirety.
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