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The Villain (Bye Bye Mr. Nice Guy)I am desperately seeking someone to save me
Wondering where I have been going wrong
The more I allow myself to be walked over
The more I feel like it’s where I belong
Under the tread marks of your rubber soled shoe
My face has been driven in to the mud
You’ve laced my dignity with so much self doubt
What on earth have I gained from being good
I am desperately seeking something to save me
The next line to the poem of my life
Dissecting my past with clinical precision
Using a pen-shaped surgical knife
With a blade that seems to cut deeper and deeper
Each time that I am wounded or I am hurt
But maybe now is the time to put down my pen
And distribute my anger with more than words
I am desperately seeking something to save me
I feel I’m on the cusp of a rebirth
I will take centre stage and leave you in the wings
There is no more time left to rehearse
I have stiffened the sinews, I have summoned the blood
I face my fears and I’ve made a decision
I can be strong, I can
Rainy DaysOn dismal ,dark and
the weather mirrors all
The grey clouds shroud
your depth of mind,
reflect the mood
you have inside,
but just as rain clouds melt,
hope`s renew in the setting sun.
Light and warmth can
for a new tomorrow.
if you get caught and you get wet
take heart remember with no regret.
After rainy days,dark,forlorn,
the sun ascends on a brand new morn.
By Suzanne karbach 31.07.2014
The Word Count Is NoneYou once said you’d write a poem to my mother
About how much you loved her only son
But something seems to have changed in your heart of late
And now the word count has become none
I know I am not your knight in shining armour
In fact no armour could protect me
From all the nights I have spent sitting in the dark
With no moon to light up my misery
You once said you had dreamt of the two of us
Young lovers stood knee deep in a lake
But you chose to increase the depth of the water
Before I even had a chance to wake
Now I am drowning in the dreams of your sunset
As I can't get a handle on my blues
Still I offer you my shoulders to stand on
So you can breathe but of course you refuse
You once said that you were writing me a letter
And told me to read it with a smile
But I’m not sure if I can remember how to
Since it has been such a very long while
Still I begin to read it with a hopeful heart
And each swirl of your calligraphic scrawl
Forms a butterfly that takes flight from th
Sweet Music MelodySweet Music Melody lend a mid-night dance to me
Oh what tender lips are these that lay sweet kisses on my cheeks
Making my bashful heart sing...sing...sing
Sweet Music Melody lend a mid-night song to me
Oh what beautiful notes your voice is to a lover's song
beckoning a drifting soul home sweet home
Sweet Music Melody never let your music end
Play your seductive heart's song again and again
Step by step, song by song, you and I are forever one
She Does Not Love YouDo not hear
Her glorious speech
Pretend to be deaf.
Elude her hair
Dancing in the air
Don’t think about
Those sunny eyes
Knowing your past
With just one look.
Avoid her laugh
A melody of harp
Played by angels.
She’s hurting you
Giving you false
When she reveals
All her evil plan
You will be broken
Thinking about suicide.
Bury the memories
With you by her side
Even if they are
The best times
Of your life.
Winds Of TimeThe cool winds of time change from day to day
Yesterday to soon turns into tomorrow
But today is never twice the same
And in heavenly stars I search, but I have yet to find my way
Still, as time marches on, my soul can find no resting place
In the mist of this violent quake
Of many dimensions of being I lies awake
Until the hours of dark meet a brilliant day break
leaving me to, once again ponder an uncertain fate
Four EverSugar coated, and devoted
To the bright side of life.
Optimistic, and artistic
With a blessed soul and mind.
May God bless you, for breaking through
The darkest side of death.
Keep your smile clear, my precious dear
For it brightens the sky.
PossibilityOne moment of action, and all futures shatter;
Outcomes collapse, and a future falls through.
One of two answers, a gamble on quanta -
Yet, left undecided, both answers ring true.
Making decisions will close off new avenues.
Making a choice will end infinite lives.
Existing in parallel, safe, unexamined;
But open the box, and just one path survives.
Is chance ever real? We make life by observing:
Existence is nothing if never perceived.
Reality falters before it is looked at:
Unwitnessed, untrusted, unseen, unbelieved.
Don't look at your future, for then you define it.
Don't open the box, for the atom decides.
In the superposition, your dreams are still possible,
Tangled in nightmares, all ticking inside.
TemporalAcross the fluid lanes of time
From all creation to the end,
We yearn to move, advance and climb,
Accepting where our fate will send.
We cannot change the paths we take;
Decision comes but only once;
We use our knowledge from mistake
For answers sought in endless hunts.
But if we had control of time and space,
And we could then return ourselves to any place,
And go redo the things we've done with actions to replace,
We'd never learn of consequence; we'd never have mistakes to face.
If time and space we could apprise,
The future we'd revise,
With no surprise,
But time is not our master here,
And rather, we walk side by side,
Into the vast unknown frontier;
It's not our rival, but our guide.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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