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Dysfunctional FamilyNo time for a friendly walk,
Only a minute or two to talk.
One in one room, one in another,
No interaction with each other.
These people all feel affection,
But there is no real connection.
Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers,
But to form relationships, no one bothers.
While they are all under the same roof,
No one would have any proof
That these people were related
Because they are so separated.
ExposureThere are so many reasons to pick a four leafed clover.
There are so many reasons to cry and die and fight over.
There are so many reasons to let my pulse have a different composer.
There are so many reasons to smile and laugh and stay sober.
There are so many reasons why I can't love her.
The Empty ChairThe evening breeze and the extra cup,
A lonely shadow upon the ceiling
And all things “destined” on the up:
Absent from a funeral of feeling.
The cloak of a Sunday in the sun;
Each passing taxi reeks of a plan:
In lieu of nothing, the day is won
Affords to think a better man.
Killing moments, playing tag with the mind:
The first paramour of pagan day;
A second honeymoon of lost fears can find
A love for that familiar blue Bombay.
The erratic world can be rather still:
A man and his betrothed corner of air
A deadbeat verse on a diner bill
Wooing the crevices of the empty chair.
Soon to topple downwards
Into a mess never to be cleansed
By its unknowing argumentative owners
Who didn't even notice the fall of their creation
And who most likely wouldn't care if they did notice
For the focus has always been on the endless argument
Never on the silent growing of a disastrous and deadly storm
Who finally snapped and unleashed hell upon the people below
But not an outwards hell like the one formed from the argument
An inner hell like that of a personal fire that was never ceased of coal
And now the aftermath, a broken tower and an outward hell forever evolving
And at rubble dear but glance do deser
SleepIf I could sleep believe me I would, but it's not
as easy as it looks.
The constant fear of running the wrong way,
bad dream, bad story to say.
Don't fall too deep, because the darkness can keep -
keep the warmest part of your soul and
rip it to pieces then let it go.
Broken you will wander the world like I am,
imagination will be all you have.
The voices won't tell you the right way, you will hide,
but will be unable to run away.
Hear me, go to sleep, don't think too deep.
It will catch you and make you belong.
Close your eyes but not for too long.
Stay awake just enough to fulfill what you need,
hallways full of paths are nearby, doors with broken
keys. But once you find yourself, you will find the
shiny one you really need.
© Martina H.
La amistad y el amor no se compranMuchos padres que están acostumbrados, a vivir de lujos y quieren lo mismo para sus hijos, quieren que se relacionen con personas que tengan su mismo nivel económico, por que dice que ellos le pueden dar de todo, pero hay algo que no se compra y es el cariño.
El dinero solo compra cosas materiales, pero que es mejor ¿tener mucho dinero y estar solo, o tener lo necesario y estar acompañado?
No les pueden decir los padres a los hijos que su bien estar debe enfocarse solo en lujos.
Muchos que tiene dinero resultan ser muy groseros, y se burlan de la gente pobre o media, pero no se dan cuenta de que ellos también tiene sentimientos, pueden no tener lo mejor para vivir pero tiene lo necesario, y viene siendo mas honrados porque pueden no vivir con reyes pero ellos tiene mas que cariño tiene apoyo.
En la amistad uno no debe de comprarla con regalos, debe ganársela con respeto y amabilidad, si tiene amigos solo por que les dan cosas, que
me siento sola, abatida sin ganas de ver a nadie y me pongo a pensar....
¿Porque es asi?
Aveces pienso... que en en realidad no hay nadie que me comprenda realmente y tan vez es asi...
Aveces siento que nadie me escucha que soy invisible y eso aveces puede ser bueno pero la soledad aveces puede ser mejor que la compañia... asi no tenidria a nadie que me criticara los conosca o no, es mas doloroso no escucharlo...
No lo se, no se por que siento que todavia no he encontrado a esa persona que me comprenda que me entienda que pueda entenderme con solo mirarme, aveces las personas me preguntan que tengo sin saber ni siquiera mi exprecion, tal vez por que me ven callada o seria y en realidad no me entienden y por eso digo que no hay con quien pueda tener una coneccion, alguien que en verdad me entienda, que con tan solo mirarme a los ojos me diga lo que siento que sea esa persona que me entienda de verdad, es por eso que aveces me siento como un fantasma, ese es uno d
UntitledNo. I can't believe this. Why am I happy? I have good grades and friends and things I don't deserve. I'm suspicious. Life never lets me be happy like this! I don't know what'll happen, but I know this won't last.
What About LoveThere's something about love.
Some sick, masochistic need that everyone possesses.
That they would do anything to have it in their lives,
despite the fact that it has the capability
to tear you apart from the inside, out.
To love is to destroy.
Any baby you can tear me apart all you'd like,
because maybe it will break me,
but there's this feint possibility
that maybe it will save me first.
FirefliesAs the first fireflies
Appear in the night,
They somehow seem
To have lost their light.
I reach to catch one,
And expect you to say:
"You'd better find a jar
Before it flies away."
But as I wait and listen,
I feel my eyes tear
For I know this,
I will never hear.
My heart feels hollow
As I start to remember
That the memories we shared
Are so few in number.
Though you've been there
For all of mine,
My role in your life
Seems a moment in time.
And though our life together
Has come and gone,
The love you showed me
Is my strength to move on.
PetalsThe grass tickled between her toes as her father toiled away with the roses by the letterbox. She watched his fingers weave between the thorns to pat the soil around each bush, humming to some John Lennon song she couldn't put a name to. Despite the sun just tipping the horizon, she saw sweat prickling his brow and his eyes squinting against the light. The fine lines on his face were suddenly accentuated by shadow, and for a moment, she swelled with wonder.
'Maria, come here,' he said, waving her over. 'You're not going to learn anything sitting all the way over there.'
Excitement sparked her limbs into motion, and she crawled over to sit next to him, careful to tuck her skirt beneath her thighs to avoid the dirt.
He picked up a pair of clippers from beside him. 'Now, you need to snipe back these diseased parts here and there from the base of the plant. It helps it grow better.'
Snipping off two pieces of wood with ease, he deposited them in Maria's outstretched hand. Their rough textu
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