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David's Poetry
#21
These are good poems.. Maybe if your knowing anyone whos in a band convert these into lyrics and turn them into a song

kindest regards

zeon xx
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#22
Great way of putting words and ideas together. Thank you David... You're too young to be so lucid, though, aren't you?
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#23
so it would seem, but that's not the case =] i like to think that just because im sixteen doesnt mean that i have merely seen a mere sixteen years' worth of what life can show or hurt someone... i also like to think these poems prove it =]


....or maybe im just over-melodramatic :-P
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#24
There are times when my tears are actually justified,
When the smile on my face isn't the "same-old" lie,
Not that I ever had to tell it of course, but, you know...

...Or do you know? Did you know that your sheets are my sanctuary?

When you come, I cannot see you, but I would like to,
It's a virtual visit to the life we had before that day,
Everytime, everytime the same, I cannot bring myself to...

...To come back? To return to that place of sanctuary, or imprisonment?

If you must make me love you, do it with regret please,
Because this rose has thorns and these thorns tell lies,
For now, your skin becomes my gravity, until, of course...

...Until the morning? How come you're a different person everytime?

In my head and in my heart, I want it to be the same again...
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#25
They all want the same thing, and I give it to them,
In their own words, I give it to them;

Sometimes I imagine that it's you instead, that it's your distant face,
It makes the excessive alcohol (Amongst other things) taste better,
For those few precious moments I can regain the fulfillment I had with you...

Sometimes we don't even touch and I try to make-believe they're real,
Some hopeless hope on a monitor, another email address, another session,
Nothing makes sense when the webcam distorts my longing memory...

Sometimes there's no one at all, and I write sad little poems about it,
It helps to do supposedly therapeutic things, adds structure to my heart,
Finally, when the light dies, I fornicate alone to your rememberance...

Then everything feels right in the world, until the next day, of course...

...I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy you, baby.
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#26
Remember when you said we could "just be friends"?
When the sex cancelled itself out and I cut myself?
I still don't believe that you don't love me, even if it's true...

...I did this to you.

Remember when I couldn't come and you said "stop"?
When you were a beacon and my hands failed you?
I still remember how many lies I fed you too...

...I did this to you.

Remember when the summer days were our very breath?
When we kissed, only to shatter our lie-ridden lips?
I still wish that I killed myself when I didn't know what to do...

...I did this to you.
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#27
DtotheJtotheM Wrote:so it would seem, but that's not the case =] i like to think that just because im sixteen doesnt mean that i have merely seen a mere sixteen years' worth of what life can show or hurt someone... i also like to think these poems prove it =]


....or maybe im just over-melodramatic :-P
Come on, David, you don't have to justify yourself... It's melodrama that makes gay men what they are.... and the absence thereof that makes people dead.
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#28
princealbertofb Wrote:Come on, David, you don't have to justify yourself... It's melodrama that makes gay men what they are.... and the absence thereof that makes people dead.

Laugh so true... =]
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#29
Sleep now for the sleepless outside this bedroom,
Close your eyes to this world of mine, you don't belong,
How could you? You're far too beautiful in my opinion...

That mirror was smashed long ago with a past-love inside,
I cut myself purposely when I tried to pick up the pieces,
How could I not? I'm far too beautiful in your opinion...

These sheets smell of you, I like it here, it tells lies well,
I can almost believe the silence when it says you love me,
How could you? You're far too beautiful in my opinion...
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#30
Everyone, the faggot's come to town.

When the blood rushes in more ways than one, I see a boy,
They are stoning me behind the train station once again,
I should really tell someone, but after all, it's only my dignity.

Hands are clasped around ears, listening to the forked tongue,
A laugh is louder than it needs to be and already I have begun,
Already my heart is stone, and theirs are simply absent now.

I come now bearing gifts rejected, and the word says it all,
The time of children has sunk deep and passed away to you,
You, the next somebody who will be he without sin...
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