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Literature Text
My feelings I threw into a box, too big for me.
So I created a mask, made of all the tears I've shed.
I know I know how cliche that sounds.
You asked, you asked “Are you ok?”
But you didn't want an answer.
Instead you wanted to be smiled at, and say in a plastic voice “I’m fine, you?”
Because you wanted to talk about yourself.
The feelings you had were apparently superior to mine.
Apparently I am just here as a blank slot.
To be played and then left because I ‘gave nothing’.
The time limit for you to care lasts a minute, and then you’re off.
“This ‘you’ isn't the person that we want to deal with.”
“Be happy, or we’ll stop being around you.”
“I've always been there for you!”
“Stop being so depressing.”
“Stop crying.”
“Wimp”
So I created a mask, made of all the tears I've shed.
I know I know how cliche that sounds.
You asked, you asked “Are you ok?”
But you didn't want an answer.
Instead you wanted to be smiled at, and say in a plastic voice “I’m fine, you?”
Because you wanted to talk about yourself.
The feelings you had were apparently superior to mine.
Apparently I am just here as a blank slot.
To be played and then left because I ‘gave nothing’.
The time limit for you to care lasts a minute, and then you’re off.
“This ‘you’ isn't the person that we want to deal with.”
“Be happy, or we’ll stop being around you.”
“I've always been there for you!”
“Stop being so depressing.”
“Stop crying.”
“Wimp”
Literature
What's Left Behind...
Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these
Literature
Will you be my home?
Will you be my home
My gentle security?
Will you lift me away
With the caress of your arms
Warm me wholly
With the slighest brush
Of your lips?
Will you be my shelter
Even from my own tears?
Will you let me take you for granted
Let me wrap you around me
And rock me to my dreams?
Will you hide me away
Be the place of my safety
Be my happiness
Sheilded from a world of sadness,
Will you be my home,
My gentle security
Silently filling my life with love?
Literature
Please, don't give up.
You’re not alone, even if you feel such sorrow
Please try to calm your mind and forget about tomorrow
I know that life can hurt, but from my happiness you can borrow
Please don't cry anymore, I will help you with the troublesome morrow
Even if the bad seem to be everywhere you go
Just keep in mind that you have to stay away from what’s below
And I know that you’ll learn from these bad experiences
So then you can help those who are inexperienced
Please don’t be sad, everyone has a reason for his or her existence
You can’t ever give up, push through and have resistance
The worst thing you could do is to l
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Comments39
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And crying does not make you a wimp. I have done it many times in my life. It makes you real. I understand what you are saying. You are not a lone.