Me
I am the pile of Black and grey clothes Thrown on the floor. I am the pictures Of dead men hung On my wall. I am old photographs Taken when I was in a womb. The dead leaves You step on When you visit a tomb. I am what I'll Never be able To Define. I am the failure A generation In vain. I am the smoke Of a cigarette you sip, You sip when You weep, You weep After a loss. The loss Of a muse. I am the sound Your dreams make When they shatter. I'm the haze. The shadow On the wall. I'm the red light You see when you close your eyes Facing the sun. Et si j'avais à choisir. J'aurais choisi De ne jamais me rencontrer. Ne jamais Me faire face.
2018-07-17 20:28:48
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Victoria H
@gl9victoria
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@Snowflake_UPM
Juli Pencil
@Juli_Pencil
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"Письмо ушедших дней"
Привет , мой милый друг Забыл ли ты, как долго не писала , Прости ,но я хотела отпустить Всю слабостью ,что в себе искала . И может ты проник Моим письмом до дрожи Забыл ли мой дневник , Увиденный стихами одинокой ночи ... Об памяти прошедших дней , Ты не увидишь ни души порока Лишь слабый шепот чувств Уложенных строками тонко . Немой вопрос в глазах Оставлю с времям на последок Легонько холодом касаний уходя , Чтоб не запомнил запах пепла.
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Question 1?/Вопрос 1?
The girl that questions everything,is a girl that needs many answers.She wanders the earth trying to find the person that can answer her many queries.Everthing she writes has a hidden question that makes her heart ache and her head hurt.She spends days writing sad story's that she forgets her sad life.Shes in a painful story that never ends,she's in a story that writes itself.The pages in the book were filled ever so easy,because her heart wrote it for her.She spent her life being afraid,that's what made it so boring.Finding her passion was easy,but fulfilling it was the hardest part of all.Her writing may be boring and sad,but it's what keeps her sane. "She had all the questions in the word,and he had all the answers." Lillian xx
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