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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Post a poem you like * 4
    #24080097 - 02/10/17 04:34 PM (7 years, 1 month ago)

Any poem by any poet that you enjoy, post it here. It can be a fragment or an entire work; whatever you wish. I'll start with...




Mistah Kurtz—he dead.


The Hollow Men


A penny for the Old Guy


I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.


Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.


                                                        --T.S. Eliot


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #24096418 - 02/16/17 08:14 PM (7 years, 1 month ago)

The Builders
                by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All are architects of Fate,
  Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
  Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;
  Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
  Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,
  Time is with materials filled;
Our to-days and yesterdays
  Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;
  Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no man sees,
  Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art,
  Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
  For the Gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,
  Both the unseen and the seen;
Make the house, where Gods may dwell,
  Beautiful, entire, and clean.

Else our lives are incomplete,
  Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stairways, where the feet
  Stumble as they seek to climb.

Build to-day, then, strong and sure,
  With a firm and ample base;
And ascending and secure
  Shall to-morrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain
  To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
  And one boundless reach of sky.


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #24101464 - 02/18/17 09:40 PM (7 years, 1 month ago)

I'm Nobody! Who are you?


I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!



                                                              by Emily Dickinson


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #24111187 - 02/22/17 02:44 PM (7 years, 1 month ago)

(from Henry V, spoken by King Henry)

by Wm. Shakespeare


Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #24132363 - 03/02/17 09:29 PM (7 years, 27 days ago)

The Leaden-Eyed
by Vachel Lindsay


Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
Not that they starve; but starve so dreamlessly,
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap,
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve,
Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #24134199 - 03/03/17 05:15 PM (7 years, 26 days ago)

Fire and Ice

by Robert Frost


Some say the world will end in fire,
    Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
    But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
    To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
    And would suffice.


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum]
    #24136766 - 03/04/17 05:19 PM (7 years, 25 days ago)

from "When the Music's Over" by the Doors
lyrics by Jim Morrison


What have they done to the earth?
What have they done to our fair sister?
Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her
Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn
And tied her with fences and dragged her down


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #24156345 - 03/12/17 02:20 PM (7 years, 17 days ago)

the way it is now

by Charles Bukowski


I'll tell you
I've lived with some gorgeous women
and I was so bewitched by those
beautiful creatures that
my eyebrows twitched.

but I'd rather drive to New York
backwards
than to live with any of them
again.

the next classic stupidity
will be the history
of those fellows
who inherit my female
legacies.

in their case
as in mine
they will find
that madness
is caused by not
being often enough
alone.


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OfflineCamwritesgonzo
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #24160117 - 03/13/17 08:43 PM (7 years, 16 days ago)

Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge


--------------------
"I've always maintained that reality is for those who can't face drugs."-Tom Waits
"I feel the same way about disco as I feel about herpes."-Hunter S. Thompson
A squid eating dough in a polyethylene bag is fast and bulbous, got me?

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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: Camwritesgonzo]
    #24164944 - 03/15/17 06:20 PM (7 years, 14 days ago)

Father William

by Lewis Carroll


“YOU are old, Father William,” the young man said,
  “And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head –
  Do you think, at your age, it is right?”

“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son,
  “I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,
  Why, I do it again and again.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,
  And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door –
  Pray, what is the reason of that?”

“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
  “I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment – one shilling the box –
  Allow me to sell you a couple?”

“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak
  For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak –
  Pray, how did you manage to do it?”

“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law,
  And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
  Has lasted the rest of my life.”

“You are old,” said the youth, “one would hardly suppose
  That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose –
  What made you so awfully clever?”

“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
  Said his father; “don’t give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
  Be off, or I’ll kick you downstairs!”


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Offlinegraceful dragon
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum]
    #24164966 - 03/15/17 06:28 PM (7 years, 14 days ago)

Fucking genius, that.  Thanks for posting, (and I'll read the others, too).  I'm sure I'll drop in here, from time to time..

Great thread.

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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon] * 2
    #24164976 - 03/15/17 06:32 PM (7 years, 14 days ago)

The Erlking,
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


Who rides so late through the wind and night?
It’s a father with his child so light:
He clasps the boy close in his arms,
Holds him fast, and keeps him warm.

‘My son, why hide your face, all scared? –
‘Don’t you see, Father, the Erlking’s there,
The Alder-King with his crown and robe?’ –
‘My son, it’s the trail of mist that flows’. –

‘Come, dear child, come along with me!
The games we’ll play will be fine and lovely:
There’s many a bright flower by the water,
Many gold garments has my Mother.’

‘And Father, my Father, can’t you hear
What the Erlking’s whispering in my ear?’ –
‘Peace, peace, my child, you’re listening
To those dry leaves rustling in the wind.’-

‘Fine lad, won’t you come along with me?
My lovely daughters your slaves shall be:
My daughters dance every night, and they
Will rock you, sing you, dance you away.’

‘And Father, my Father, can’t you see where
The Erlking’s daughters stand shadowy there? –
‘My Son, my Son, I can see them plain:
It’s the ancient Willow-trees shining grey.’

‘I love you, I’m charmed by your lovely form:
And if you’re not willing, I’ll have to use force.’
‘Father, my Father, he’s gripped me at last!
The Erlking’s hurting me, holding me fast! –

The Father shudders, faster he rides,
Holding the moaning child so tight,
Reaching the house, in fear and dread:
But in his arms the child lies dead.

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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon]
    #24165003 - 03/15/17 06:42 PM (7 years, 14 days ago)

Fantastic!


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Offlinegraceful dragon
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #24165018 - 03/15/17 06:52 PM (7 years, 14 days ago)

Thanks.  Here's another version, I just typed this one out from a song -- Steve Gillette. 

Who rides through the night so dark and wild?
The father rides with his own fearful child:
The boy he holds so close in his arms;
He guards him safely, he keeps him warm.
'Why do you hide your face as in fear?' --
'Father don't you see the Erlking is here?
He calls to me with a crown and a shroud;' --
'No, my son, that's nothing but a passing cloud'
The Erlking beckons to the terrified boy,
'You must come with me. I'll give you jewels
And wealth untold, You'll walk in robes
Of bright and shining gold.'
'Father, Father, do you not hear?
The Erlking whispering low in my ear?' --
'Hush now, rest ye, it's nothing my child
But the trees and the night wind playing their melody wild.'
The Erlking says, 'Oh come with me,
And my own fair daughters will wait on thee
A heavenly vigil o'er your cradle they'll keep,
Tenderly sing and rock you to sleep.'
'Father, Father, see them there:
The Erlking's daughters bright shining hair,' --
'No, my son, there are no fair maids,
Nothing but the willows that wave in the glade.'
Clutching the reins in his trembling hand,
With pain and despair that he can't understand,
Alone on the road with the stars overhead,
Fearful and hopeless, the boy in his arms is dead.
To the trees in the night wind he cries aloud.
Seeks out the face of death in every passing cloud
Down in the meadow where the boys' grave it lay
Nothing but the willows that wave in the glade.


video of course is a montage, I usually like to listen it without them at least once.. idk. :smile:

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Offlinegraceful dragon
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon] * 2
    #24166563 - 03/16/17 10:14 AM (7 years, 13 days ago)

Sonnets to Orpheus, by R. M. Rilke (tr. C.F.MacIntyre)
1.
A tree arose. O pure transcendence!
O Orpheus sings! O tall tree within the ear!
And all was silent. Yet in that silence
pulsed new genesis, new signaling, new change.

Creatures of stillness thronged out of the clear
disentangled forest, from nest and lair;
and it wasn't cunning, wasn't heed or fright
that put such softness into their step,

but listening. Bellow, shriek and roar
seemed small inside their hearts. And where once
there'd scarcely been a hut to take this in,

a hidden refuge made of darkest longing
with an entranceway whose branches shook,--
you built temples for them in your hearing.

2.
And almost a girl it was and came forth
from this glad unity of song and lyre
and shone brightly through her springtime veils
and made herself a bed within my ear.

And slept in me. And all things were her sleep.
The trees I forever marvel at, these
palpable distances, the deep-felt meadows,
and an entire life's astonishments.

She slept the world. Singing god, how did you
so perfect her that she never once
had need to be awake? Look, she arose and slept.

Where is her death? Ah, will you introduce
that theme before your song expires?--
I can feel her drifting off. . . to where? . . . a girl almost. . .

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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon]
    #24167101 - 03/16/17 01:38 PM (7 years, 13 days ago)

Beautiful.


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InvisibleDividedQuantumM
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum]
    #24167110 - 03/16/17 01:41 PM (7 years, 13 days ago)

Two theologues once, as they wended their way
    To chapel, engaged in colloquial fray --
    An earnest logomachy, bitter as gall,
    Concerning poor Adam and what made him fall.
    "'Twas Predestination," cried one -- "for the Lord
    Decreed he should fall of his own accord."
    "Not so -- 'twas Free will," the other maintained,
    "Which led him to choose what the Lord had ordained."
    So fierce and so fiery grew the debate
    That nothing but bloodshed their dudgeon could sate;
    So off flew their cassocks and caps to the ground
    And, moved by the spirit, their hands went round.
    Ere either had proved his theology right
    By winning, or even beginning, the fight,
    A gray old professor of Latin came by,
    A staff in his hand and a scowl in his eye,
    And learning the cause of their quarrel (for still
    As they clumsily sparred they disputed with skill
    Of foreordinational freedom of will)
    Cried:  "Sirrahs! this reasonless warfare compose:
    Atwixt ye's no difference worthy of blows.
    The sects ye belong to -- I'm ready to swear
    Ye wrongly interpret the names that they bear.
    You -- Infralapsarian son of a clown! --
    Should only contend that Adam slipped down;
    While you -- you Supralapsarian pup! --
    Should nothing aver but that Adam slipped up.
    It's all the same whether up or down
    You slip on a peel of banana brown.
    Even Adam analyzed not his blunder,
    But thought he had slipped on a peal of thunder!

--Ambrose Bierce, from The Devil's Dictionary


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Offlinegraceful dragon
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum]
    #24167139 - 03/16/17 01:57 PM (7 years, 13 days ago)

From on the wall of my father's small town bus station:

"I cannot hope to run the train:
The whistle, I can't blow.
I'm not allowed to say how far
The the railroad cars can go.
I'm not allowed to shoot off steam
Nor even clang the bell,
But let the damn thing jump the track,
And see who catches hell!"

Here's one I memorized as a kid: this one I plagiarized and got credit for in school..

With legs so short and far apart,
A duck just doesn't have the art
Of stepping out and looking smart.

But when it steps into the pond,
A place of which he's very fond,
And swims into the blue beyond;

With strokes so swift and far and fine,
In such a straight, un-splashy line,
I'd almost trade his legs for mine.


I forget the author and title (maybe, a duck?)
Here's another one that I did..
Of course this one is all over the internet now....


I can see what you see not—
Vision milky, then eyes rot.
When you turn, they will be gone,
Whispering their hidden song.

Then you see what cannot be—
Shadows move where light should be.
Out of darkness, out of mind,
Cast down into the Halls of the Blind.


they believed me but were a little concerned. They thought i was a good poet.  i chose them well... believable. 
was a good liar so later on i tried to not lie..  for quite a few years i was strenuous about it, in improving..
i had to..  and i think i succeeded.. it's important, as one's word - reputation - is more significant than i thought at first.
but i got there for sure - anyway that one is from Diablo 1.
i didn't think it was possible to plagiarize The Raven...  and I wouldn't, but if i could have gotten away with it, who knows? 
I was a pretty amoral child, I guess.

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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon]
    #24167168 - 03/16/17 02:11 PM (7 years, 13 days ago)

Song of Hiawatha

By the shore of gitche gumee
By the shining big-sea-water
At the doorway of the wigwam
In the early summer morning

Hiawatha stood and waited
All the air was full of freshness
All the earth was bright and joyous
And before him through the sunshine

Westward toward the neighbouring forest
Passed in golden swams, the ahmo
Passed the bees, the honey-makers
Burning, singing in the sunshine

Bright above him shone the heavens
Level spread the lake before him;
From it's bosom leaped the sturgeon
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine

On it's margin the great forest
Stood reflected in the water
Every tree-top had it's shadow
Motionless beneath the water

From the bow of hiawatha
Gone was every trace of sorrow
As the fog from off the water
As the mist of the meadow

With a smile of joy and gladness
With a look of exultation
As of one who in a vision
Sees what is to be, but is not

Stood and waited hiawatha
Toward the sun his hands were lifted
Both the palms spread out towards it
And between the parted fingers

Feel the sunshine on his features
Flecked with light his naked shoulders
As it falls and flecks an oak-tree
Through the rifted leaves and branches

O'er the water floating, flying
Something in the hazy distance
Something in the mist of morning
Loomed and lifted from the water

Now seemed floating, now seemed flying
Coming nearer, nearer, nearer
Was it shingebis, the diver?
Or the pelican, the shada?

Or the heron, the shuh-shuh-gah?
Or the white goose, waw-be-wawa,
With the water dripping, flashing
From it's glossy neck and feathers?

It was neither goose or diver
Neither pelican nor heron
O'er the water floating, flying
Through the shining mist of morning

But a birch canoe with paddles
Rising, sinking in the sunshine
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine
And within it came a people

Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water
Or the red swan floatin, flying
Wounded by the magic arrow

Staining all the waves with crimson
With the crimson of it's lifeblood
Filling all the air with splendour
Filling all the air with plumage

Yes, it is the sun descending
Sinking down into the water
All the sky is stained with purple
All the water flushed with crimson!

No, it is the red swan floating
Diving down beneath the water
To the sky it's wings are lifted
With it's blood the waves are reddened!

Over it the star of evening
Melts and trembles through the purple
Hangs suspended in the twilight
Walks in silence through the heavens!

(h. w. longfellow. vocals: maddy prior)


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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: graceful dragon] * 2
    #24167884 - 03/16/17 06:16 PM (7 years, 13 days ago)

I really enjoy E.H. poems...


You may not believe in magic,
But don't you think it strange,
The amount of matter in our universe,
Has never slightly changed,
That all which makes your body,
Was once part of something more,
And every breath you ever breathe,
Has seen it all before,
There are countless scores of beauty,
In all the things that you despise,
It could once have been a shooting star,
That now makes up your thighs,
And atoms of forgotten life,
Who've long since ceased to roam,
May now have the great honour,
To call your crooked smile their home,
You may not believe in magic,
But I thought that you should know,
The makings of your heart were born,
Fourteen billion years ago,
So next time you feel lonely,
When this world makes you feel small,
Just remember that it's part of you,
And you're part of it all.





She told me that the ocean,
Had been calling out her name,
When the tide went out each evening,
She felt like she should do the same,
The waves tugged at her ankles,
As they pooled around her feet,
Whispering of wonders,
That she still was yet to meet,
But every time I asked her,
If she knew the reason why,
She simply said this arid world,
Had turned her deep heart dry,
There was just one way she knew of,
To finally feel like she was free,
And it was 14,000 feet,
Beneath the cold and stormy sea,
Then early in November,
She slipped like water from our hands,
Left nothing of her salty breath,
Or footprints in the sand,
And I hope she found the ocean,
Made up for things this world had lacked,
For she left a note to say goodbye,
And then never came back.




They witnessed her destruction,
Then were left to wonder why,
She saw nothing but darkness,
Though the stars shone in her eyes,
But maybe they'd forgotten,
When they failed to see the cracks,
That a star's light shines the brightest,
When it's starting to collapse.


--------------------


:heartpump::heartpump: :heartpump::heartpump:

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