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EmeraldThere was a boy. The every day average boy. A boy who was utterly unremarkable.
He liked a girl. A beautiful girl. A girl that made his jaw drop.
Soon, He started getting hooked to her every word. Her every movement.
It was no secret, barely concealed.
That he liked the girl. Probably more than either of them could ever fathom.
Even the girl knew it. Knew of the boy. The every day average boy. The boy who was utterly unremarkable.
The girls birthday was soon approaching. The day she would turn 16. The day she would be on guard.
The girl was expecting him to do something. Something that would make him remarkable. Something to try and win her.
She kept saying, that she thought he must be thinking that a simple present would make her his girlfriend. That he was hopelessly lost in fantasies. That he actually expected her to swoon over him.
everyone started mocking him. Mocking the boy. The every day average boy. The boy who was utterly unremarkable.
Dear PeopleDear Nobody,
Remember that you are somebody.
Remember that you can succeed.
Remember that you have been gifted with looks that others envy, but you are still equal.
Remember that you are just as good as anyone around you.
Remember that you are still you, no matter what other people think.
Remember that friendship and acceptance is a reason to live.
Remember to spread the love to everyone, no matter who they may be.
Remember that you can make a difference.
We are all different,
Yet we are the same.
We are all individuals with something to give,
Yet in the end we all have the same goal.
And to be loved.
WoundWe are a blade and a bullet,
And we hurt in different ways.
Let's agree to disagree,
On my flaws, and on yours.
On occasion we were a storm
And more often than not
We rained on our parades.
But then we drowned in the dust,
In the ashes of quick remarks
And shades of misunderstanding.
I do not apologise, and nor should you,
For I am me and you are you
I wish you the very best,
And hope you remember me,
In the days of new black
And silly midnight secrets.
A Poem...Once I wrote a poem on a small blue posted-note
And it was about the spring
Because that's what the season was
My friends thought it was really cool
And my mother thought it was beautiful
So she hung it on the fridge
For everybody to see
And I felt very special and loved
About a year ago, I wrote a different poem
It was written on a piece of notebook paper
And it was about heaven
Because I thought it was a beautiful thing
My friends said it was fine
And my mother said it was nice
And she put it in the filing cabinet
I felt left out, but that's okay.
About a month or two ago, I wrote another poem
And it was written on the back of an old homework assignment
It was about hell and what I though came after death
Because that's what was on my mind
And My friends though it was weird
And my mother didn't even care
So I shoved it in my trash can
And tried to forget
Today I wrote a poem
It was on a crumpled up piece of paper
And it was about my final goodbyes
Because that's what it was really al
PillarDo not erect a pillar at my grave
so that you may care more for
a stone that bears my name
than for the body that lived it every day.
Do not forget, do not regret.
Do not pile high the earth in needless mounds
so that you may adore
the soil that can be found
in any place, for it be not hallowed ground.
Do not regret, do not forget.
Do not lay flowers where Im laid to rest
so that you may believe your duty is done;
they too will die and have no effect
on the remains of my buried flesh.
It is my soul that desires your efforts.
Broken angel wingsThe moment I saw you,
I promised myself
that I'd fix you.
And I would have sworn
I grew angel wings.
Your wounds were never healed,
I failed, and I'm sorry.
I'm never enough and I know it.
I tried, darling.
Believe me, I did.
You always told me
how much you wanted to fly,
and you could do it,
I knew you could.
But the one with the wings was me,
and all I know is falling,
because that's all I ever did.
I wish I could reach you,
now that you stopped falling
you're too far above me.
And my wings are broken
(I'd blame you,
but it wouldn't be fair.
I insisted on fixing you,
when I was even more broken)
I'll miss you.
Don't look for me in heaven.
You won't find me there.
I'm right below the bottom,
where the broken burn,
where I belong.
Because you know I'm afraid of heights,
and you know I never learnt how to fly.
All I do is fall,
and I refuse to take you with me.
fly, love. i gift you my wings, fix them and fly.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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