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Wandered what people think to these two poems
The Beauty of Life
As careless as a minds eye could be
As hurtful and as angry are the words of a scared person
And as the pessimist poet wrote:
The grass is nought but the chilling wisps of one soul’s fire;
My pain is nought but nothing
And my being is as worth-full as that
Tomorrow I may die
And I will die cold and miserable
Shivering in my terrible regrets and loneliness
Hanging on to the colour of flying hope
And yet so staying in the murky dank dirt
In between the blades; for I feel I am the one with no root.
As beautiful as the sweet darling one can call their child
As enchanting as the nights sky may be
For it’s stars play all around me!
And yet so, around me I see nought but warmth,
Like that of a smile or a warm breath
Or of the cool breeze, the wisps like a stream.
With the love of people near my heart
Power of tread in my feet
That I may tread upon the road
That surrounds me with the flames of God,
And so with that!
Let our pessimist poet remain in between the blades of cursed grass!
Short Slumber
I’m sat in my own solitude
I figure I could sleep for a bit,
Put things off for a while
Lie heavy, in peace
And try not to think too much.
Yet events will freeze into one singular situation;
Becoming still and unmoving.
Probably because it’s not supposed to exist
Like iced over time…
…that practices forgetfulness;
And all the nagging, dull colours
And so ‘forgotten’ thoughts
Will cloud my mind in slumber.
But I’ll only see the mist,
Growing through my brain; and I’ll sit
And stare at it; silently, calmly,
Head heavy.
Escaping, just for a while, in a short slumber.
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