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Literature Text
The sound of the wind
As it rustles dried leaves
Through the fresh branches
Of the large, green bush
Growing outside my open window
The beautiful feeling
As the breeze walks in
And captures my skin
While goosebumps
Run away before
Settling to the realization
The this is okay
Whilst I write,
I can hear the way
The leaves flutter about
And I know
Rain will pass in the night
While I sleep with the wind
Even now, my eyes are leaves
Fluttering about and knowing
Relaxation is soon,
But the wind will be forever
To keep me going
Even when I'm unable
To control what's around me
Sleepy wind,
Rolling on,
Never stopping,
Keeping going,
Endless,
Tired but goes,
For us and nature,
Wind never sleeps
As it rustles dried leaves
Through the fresh branches
Of the large, green bush
Growing outside my open window
The beautiful feeling
As the breeze walks in
And captures my skin
While goosebumps
Run away before
Settling to the realization
The this is okay
Whilst I write,
I can hear the way
The leaves flutter about
And I know
Rain will pass in the night
While I sleep with the wind
Even now, my eyes are leaves
Fluttering about and knowing
Relaxation is soon,
But the wind will be forever
To keep me going
Even when I'm unable
To control what's around me
Sleepy wind,
Rolling on,
Never stopping,
Keeping going,
Endless,
Tired but goes,
For us and nature,
Wind never sleeps
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Strings of silver silk lining
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A message to my lover, to whom I owe such a debt:
All you ever do anymore is take.
My poems crumble at the touch,
Fading into the clusters of Sunday brunch and Family Guy reruns.
What's the price of the two seconds of quiet
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Ruffling through the papers you'll have me sign-
What wouldn't I give to sign with the devil, over you...
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En todos sus años de caja esta ha estado cerrada, pues ningún hombre ha decidido hacerse cargo de la solitaria caja, la cual carga con su contenido en el exterior; una caja inversa quizás será.
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Escrtito #2 que te dedico.
Ya mi mente envenenada con tu persona ni siquiera puede recordar la razón del por qué estos sentimientos tan destructivos que siento por ti. Ni siquiera sé si tienen sentido mis palabras, cuando hablo de ti me siento como una loca enjaula. Mi locura es el amor que me provocas y mi jaula el deseo que no sacio. Me siento como una estúpida porque me tienes a tus pies y lo sabes, lo sabes porque mi actitud incontrolable te lo demostró. Hay algo que si recuerdo, aquel primer día de clases, aquel sol de 8am que encendía tu pelo color caramelo, aquella mirada profunda atrapada en el vidrio de tus lentes, las vuelta
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The last italic part was something my neighbor (eight years old) wrote for me. (She wants to write poetry and be like me, still...) But, I promised her I would finish her poem, so I wrote this for her in return. (True event though, I write this while on the verge of sleep and listening to the cold wind).
© 2014 - 2024 LMW-The-Poet
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I like it & the sounds of wind