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one day (in the bluish aftermath) is just like all of the others, (i will remember living) people and places (somehow) becoming a blur. it's been (a good life) like a dream (where i loved you all) when i was a child (in my own way.) and the edges were so undefined. |
Hey, it's nice to see some familiar names still posting on this site. I haven't logged in to this place for ages. I really like this poem of yours, especially the last two lines. I haven't written much in the last years but I searched through my old poems and found one worthy to post here. It's called Hologram. Check it out, maybe you like it. I will try to write again and post some newer stuff here...| Posted on 2016-10-21 00:00:00 | by Paradox | [ Reply to This ] | This is the first work of yours I have read, and there is something beautiful and sparse about it. | It can be harder to say things simply in a poetic way than it is to say them flowery and overblown, though I must confess I love these pieces too. There is an unquestioning ache lurking here beyond your words, upon finishing there was a slight disappointment, not because I felt it was unfinished, but because I wanted to know more, if that makes sense. Glad I stopped by. | Posted on 2011-02-17 00:00:00 | by BlankSheet | [ Reply to This ] | |