freedom
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To a good, and lost friend
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Nov 13 21:36 UTC 2000 |
I have missed you my friend,
and I can't remember your words,
the way they flowed from your fingers...
but I need you to find me.
I know if you read this,
the words will sink into your eyes.
I cannot breathe anymore,
and we've little time to share.
What was it I used to find funny,
how often did I smile?
All I can remember is me, you,
and very long nights,
trying to comfort each other's wounds.
DO you remember, friend, that nights,
those many nights,
where God's name had no trace on my lips,
and my hands threatened to erase
all that my mind had ever known.
I am trying desperatley to give
hope to walking a straighter path,
but the temptations of ease,
quickly burn at my restless feet.
You ask why I've changed,
and choose to remember my face,
in the still picture on your heart.
Look closer into her eyes,
and wonder who it is looking back at you.
I am sorry I left you,
knowing your fears and stories
from a broken and childish heart.
I promise you one day, happiness
will overtake your weary thoughts.
I miss you knowing me,
when there were words between us,
and not an empty silence.
You are but a beautiful poet,
and your words often drift in my mind.
Tell me not to fear of what you'll think,
tell me its ok to fall
just this once.
I am so so afraid.
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lumen
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response 1 of 3:
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Nov 14 00:18 UTC 2000 |
You're on a prolific streak, eh? However, I am sensing the structure
beginning to loosen a little, and I don't find this quite as striking as
the others. Not sure what to suggest at this point; I will need to look
at this later.
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lumen
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response 3 of 3:
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Nov 16 23:48 UTC 2000 |
ah, I see, and I see what you mean, somewhat in your response to my last
poem. Sometimes reality expressed in more unfiltered terms is difficult
to make poetic-- assuming that our expectations lean towards the
Romantic.
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