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An Ode To Her Poetrysoup

It all became some big mess as joy was slowly sapped Like resin from a tree ? While the days there grew darker.. Inspiration lost their wings yet no one cared what used to seem Our playground and these seasons passed us by or better, still me Holding on to nothing now but ghost in this machine ? Whom should we pity Myself perhaps they I think the children we're all infants; priceless heart's... Surely I find his own amid, their tear stained looking glass of youth ? Shall she Beauty ever dance again a life her breath these dreams it used to be, our playground.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 8/28/2013 3:18:00 PM
I know exactly how you felt when you wrote this, John. Some days, when inspiration cannot be found, can be the darkest days. Especially for people like us, whom need the poetry to bring a little light to our days. I hope you can find endless inspiration, John! Much love, Kelly
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Date: 8/22/2013 8:41:00 PM
I remember when.... I was so dreamy as she, yet we didn't always see eye to eye, and was inspirational in the writing area, I so dreamy.... and I landed many jobs at newspaper offices, not limiting myself to just creative and somehow, I feel as though I lost the romantic side of myself somewhere along the way. I just got off work. Good to see you posting :) take care of yourself and God bless you my loving friend. Lucinda
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Date: 8/22/2013 3:34:00 PM
The lplayground will always be there..In thoughts and dreams..John..Very sad and yet so beautifully unique
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry