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25% = 100%Honestly my life is good,
Honestly I don't have anything I can complain about,
because anything that goes wrong in life,
is usually something I can help,
It's not good to try and question the past,
but it's horrible when you repeat the past,
you know the outcome is going to be the same.
25% of my life is bad, while the other 75% is good,
but honestly that 25% has such a big impact that it,
Sometimes makes 100% of my life feel like crap.
strangers in friendsMuslims brothers and sisters,
are suppose to be strangers
to the world, not to each other.
The rest of the world does NOT EXIST.Some people say that heaven and hell
Do not exist, there is no evidence
There is no logic behind it.
But i could argue that the rest of the world does not exist, outside of what my eyes can clearly see.
i can't believe something just because someone said it was true, i can't believe in something that i have never seen.
The only evidence that i have are clips on youtube, and programs
in the Television, We know how much those are true.
Even if i was on an air plane how do i know we were not circling the sky for two or three days.
It's people who want to confuse me
They want to make it seem as though we are free but of course we are free when i'm in the one place that exist for me.
So basically what i'm saying is that the rest of the world does not exist, because people love to dream up lies, to replace the emptiness in their meaningless lives,
when its obvious were all going to be in the same place as everyone else at the end of the day,and plus the evidence is tampered
Over allI found a way to save you,
you wouldn't have to lose anything
Because the things you would give up
would actually be benefiting you.
I found a way to save you,
You would of had so much
sweetness in your life.
I found a way to save you,
I would no longer have to
think about you through
I found a way to save you
you would of understood me
as much as I understood you.
I found a way to save you
I found a way to save you.
I found a way to save you...
I wish I could say
I have a way to save you.
Now look at me talking to
a dead person's grave
as if you could hear me
Over all your screaming.
Everything that made us.I'm just sad that your glad
that you choose to do the things
you know are bad, I'm just sad that
your giving up everything that made us friends.
Poetry of titlesif god is still there, your expectations everything.
you have changed, i am left. A disaster i am.
our appearance choose the destination, time can't tell.
Diary of a 11 year old murder.My first Murder was committed when I was 10. My victim was my father. The rat died just liked a rat should, through poison.
in truth he wasn't my real father all though I believed he was for 10 and a half years, and because I believed he was my father I always seemed to make excuses for his violent behaviour towards my mother (even the one's that weren't encouraged by alcohol) but of course I wasn't okay with it at all and the only thing I would do was not add to the quiver pleas of my mother by staying quiet as I dug my nails into my sweaty palm and chewed the side of my tongue as I pondered over what to do. anger grew in me, it was fierce and uncontrollable. I was mad at my father for the beatings, my mother for not beating him, leaving him, or at least trying to call the police, and mad at myself for not doing anything but being mad at people. Once when my stepfather Threw my Mother so hard she hit the corner of a wall and went limp as her brown hair slowly turned red, I f
lost my voice.I wrote "I love you"
in the sand at the beach.
The tide swallowed the words
and drowned them
before I could speak.
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
How to love a poet: Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
& an inability
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
Loving A Guy Who Cannot Love Himself.Firstly, tell him that he doesn't necessarily need to be the “strongest” man in the world,
that if he cries, you won't look down on him for it,
that you won't call him weak.
Tell him that he doesn't have to like sports, or fishing, or football, or any of the “mainstream” things that boys are “supposed” to like.
Let him know that liking art, or dancing, or singing or acting doesn't make him gay, doesn’t make him any less of a man, it just makes him who he is.
A human being.
And for goodness sakes, tell him that blue does not have to be his favorite color, than he can indulge in pink, or purple or even magenta!
And to the girl who take on the task, remember please, that it is not always the Knight who saves the Princess.
No, this time, the Princess may need to save the Knight.
Do not pour your problems onto him, rather, balance each other out.
Be a shoulder to cry on. A friend to be there. A love that never leaves.
Perhaps more than often,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
I Fell In love Inside of a DreamI fell in love,
inside of a dream.
And woke up,
with a broken heart.
But it wasn't my heart,
that was broken.
It was his,
and I'll never see him again.
That long haired, pale skin,
blue eyed boy, will forever remain,
a figment of my imagination.
So close, yet so far away.
And I will never be able to apologize,
for my mistake.
ShatteredIf I found you, on your knees,
trying desperately to collect the shattered pieces of your heart-
I would kneel beside you and help you pick them up.
I would not cast a blind eye,
and pretend I had not seen you.
If I saw that your hands had been cut,
by the very shards of hope you were trying so hard to gather-
I would take your hands in mine, and hold them until the pain subsided.
Then I would kiss every wound- no matter how big or how small,
until I was sure you would be able to use your hands again.
If you were crying from the fear that you'd never be able to pick up everything,
I would hold you until your tears stopped, and I would comfort you with gentle words.
But I would not lie to you- I would never lie.
The heart is a frail thing- once shattered, it can never be fully repaired.
Parts will remain missing, and the mended hope will always bear cracks.
If we found that we'd gathered all that we were able,
and that there were a fine powder remaining of what we could not collect.
...You struck a chord in my soul.
Now it rings in my ears,
sweet melody that deafens
screams louder now can't hear it's own
a poem about too many people and too much heart.you were my
conclusion- the last paragraph
and the last thing
i got to say.
i loved you and i
took words from
between my eyelashes and i
put them down for
you, i took you apart
a million times
in my mind and always put you
and i drew
you, soft and silhouetted
window, the pane
foggy and i thought of you
in the darkest of
times, because i kept telling myself
that you were the
light (like you
i know that i am just
a girl with
too much heart and
too weak of ribs; but
i was hoping
that you would help the foxes
hunt the hounds, just for
Today I will die.Today I will die,
It will be half way
I will look out
at the night sky
for the last
or one of the last
I won't expect myself to
It's sad the way that I view
everyone else, as though it
will be one of the last times
I will see them or they will see
me, but miraculously we both
awaken and meet, as though
we weren't so close to death
that we could feel it coaxing
our souls half way out,
hovering around us waiting
to tell us that we have died,
and then our eternal time starts
and never ends.
It's scary when I think about it,
not because I fear it but because,
I fear the one who ordered it,
Will god be happy with me?
will I be able to pass the
there is nothing I can do by then if I fail,
the only thing I will be doing is suffering and wailing.
I just want to be saved, be so good that
I am spared a punishment so bad that even
when i'm released the memory will still haunt me,
and it's and crazy because I don't know if I will
succeed unless it
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More