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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Untitled.dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: xieno
    Elite Ratio:    2.41 - 7/16/24
    Words: 238
    Class/Type: Lyrics/Longing
    Total Views: 536
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1413



    Description:
       This took me three days to finish. I don't know why it took me that long, it isn't even that good.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsUntitled.dots
    -------------------------------------------


    How far are some willing to go to reach cloud nine
    Just to escape their own personal hell
    And how great would it be to find it in a box on the lawn
    Without the burden of there being someone else
    I know this world, and it doesn't revolve around me
    I guess theres no point in pretending,
    I just need you to see through to me

    I've been waiting too long, and nothing even exists
    I just don't want to sit here anymore,
    Watching the days leave without me
    I could be another one in a million
    Or I could rob you of your pride
    Well, we never know anything until we try

    I guess I'm trying to find a figurative way to say this
    But I've lost my ability to write
    After an eon of vacuity in this useless life
    So radically what I wanted you to know
    What I've wanted so badly to say
    Is that I'm unwell, I'm imperfect
    I need someone who wouldn't mind that either way
    And the only one who comes to my tragic mind...
    Is you

    I've been waiting too long, and nothing even exists
    I just don't want to sit here anymore,
    Watching the days leave without me
    I could be another one in a million
    Or I could rob you of your pride
    Well, we never know anything until we try




    Submitted on 2008-07-02 12:27:08     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      I think I'd like to hear this live.
    I wrote a piece and these lyrics
    remind of it. An old metaphor about
    the one that got away,
    maybe if we live long enough
    we'll catch that fish on another day.


    The Poor Man's Poet.
    | Posted on 2008-07-02 00:00:00 | by Bobby K | [ Reply to This ]


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