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Literature Text
Black Roses are laid on a bed
Where you lay, unaware and dead.
Photographs are torn up,
While her tears fill millions of cups.
The lost look in her eyes,
Only attained when true love dies.
The loneliness in her voice,
And if it was her choice;
She'd be down there too,
Laying beside you
Where you lay, unaware and dead.
Photographs are torn up,
While her tears fill millions of cups.
The lost look in her eyes,
Only attained when true love dies.
The loneliness in her voice,
And if it was her choice;
She'd be down there too,
Laying beside you
Literature
Dead
Here lies the empty,
soul less and dark,
Cracked so no light may spark.
Here lies the empty shell,
hidden in a grave,
caressing no feelings you may ever crave.
Here lies the empty shell,
sunken into the mud,
birthing that of no flower's bud.
Here lies the empty shell,
abandoned from the womb,
Here lies the empty shell,
craved into in the tomb.
Literature
Sleep. Don't Weep.
I could never fight my own tears.
I cannot wipe yours.
But I promise you I will not ask anything.
I could never get over my own fears.
I cannot fight yours.
But I promise you I will be there when you come back.
Because we are the same.
We both feel and we both cry.
We both love and we both write.
I can tell what you are going through
because I have been there too.
And I promise you I would never lie.
It has been hard for you, I know,
but I cannot promise you things will get better.
Things never got better for me.
It is just that I don't cry anymore.
I cannot roll back those tears,
but I can show you some happy songs,
take yo
Literature
contrite.
she said
'i want to wake up
before i go to sleep,'
and she was wringing
those hands-
wringing those hands-
like you'd wring a turkey's neck.
so those grotesque
trees in the courtyard
are chasing her far away
where she can't reach
her heart;
those black branches
have build a bird's nest
around it, and the
brambles have started to grow.
she falls asleep
before her head hits
the pillow
and they bow their heads
and pray;
singing about doves
and gods and
teacups.
'i just want to wake up
before i go to sleep,'
she whispers,
her eyes like saucers
in her face-
and you should have held her then
you think,
but you didn't
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Meh i was depressed
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nice.