My Poetry

in #poemchallenge7 years ago

Fall on the night

Fall on the night
When laid on the night I consider thy lonely I There are flowers in your eyes There, my solitude incubate rain wet the floors, there's fragrance greet

I sing the song cuts into your ears, a silent
with odd tone
There is a history of unreadable with intact
about the story of a pair of human
the passing on of lost nights

still, I fell on the night
sing with the dark full of flowers
so you know, the more it means loneliness

Flying Hours Approached The Moon

Flying hours approached the Moon
Flying hours approached the Moon Bring stories about lonely The rain rushed arrived, the night gets wet I shivered in solitude Hovering in nothingness

Flowers grow from the sky
Flowers in between the silence and becomes fragrant

The roar of a question,
From the story of the past
The madcap longing incarnated

The cuts are the days that should be abandoned
After the rain, the sky was still wet
Before the demolished with age

The love that Never goes down suddenly

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Love never goes down suddenly from the ceiling of the room. There are beningmu eyes looked fragile expectations after the passion became a prayer at night-a night full of lies. You cascading black hair diembus the fan. And I climbed into the sky through the body beautiful.

Still you love question time dark room when the lights suddenly went out because have yet to pay the monthly bills. And hunger and love of wrestling with noise and cuts.

On The Coffee Table

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It struck me. We exchanged glances from the thoughts that are socially inept. Cracks in every smile, on a coffee table in the waiting room, a place to meet. And there is your viewpoint on the distance and I just looked at. The fog slowly ascending from the smoke. All of a sudden drizzle coming down from the rest of the upset over the love that does not completely legible.

I see myself, look at the color of the coffee. Concentrated. There is the memory of labour-workers ' gardens. The sweat he mingled in a powder-powder coffee. There are smarting. I see myself, see Douwes Dekker which are driven off the longing of those small little hearts andof love. What I lose. On the coffee table, I was still awake. Think of the coffee dregs.

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Thank you so much for participating and taking a break from everyday worries. It was my pleasure to read each of your words.

Great writing I am honored @margaretwise

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