Thornless Rose Poetry

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Thornless

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Together In Death
(* Dedication to my ‘Nana’ Lyla and ‘Grandpa’ Earl Scott)
Although that we are now
Forever apart,
I know that you are
Still here in heart.
How could I forget
Those happy days,
When I was so small,
While you smiled watching me play.
I can not say
That I will not shed a tear,
Because I am not used
To you not being near.
But I can only wait
For the day I have no breath,
For that is the day,
That we are together in death.
 
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Thornless

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Crying
Crying, I’m crying.
Tears steaming down my face,
At such a tiresome pace.
Falling, I’m falling.
Tumbling, tumbling into a bottomless pit.
One so deep it can only my guilt, and in it I sit.
Waiting, I’m waiting.
My eyes and ears are closed, although I can feel it come.
I am sightless, but I can see where it is headed from.
Crying, I’m crying again.
I am falling from grace, waiting for the warmth of a friend.
Even though my eyes are closed, I cannot endure to see the end.
 

Thornless

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Be
(* For Bryan)
Is there such a place as forever?
Such a word as ‘lasting’?
Such a thing called ‘love’?
Or is this emotion lust?
Desire, betrayal, yearning?
Is this the meaning of marriage?
“I do. . . I don’t.”
“I love you. . . I hate you.”
Are these those meaningful, little words?
Be mine. . .
Upon my knees I ask you;
Within my dreams I hear your voice.
Be true. . .
My heart beats intensity for you,
Awaiting to be heard.
Be one. . .
My love, my soul, my friend,
light my fire and keep it bright.
Be you. . .
Untouchable, unreachable.
Love, I yearn to cross this distance.
Be well. . .
I pine to be safe in your embrace.
Most of all, please be real.
 

MrKnight

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nice work thornless, crying is a real good one, prefer short poetry (eventhough mine isnt hehe(short attention span lol)). good uses of words, liking it! Kudos!! :)
 

cam elle toe

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Lovely....I like crying too.


I used to write LOTS of poetry when I was younger...my daughter writes HEAPS...but its quite dark and depressing
 

ssl

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Crying
Crying, I’m crying.
Tears steaming down my face,
At such a tiresome pace.
Falling, I’m falling.
Tumbling, tumbling into a bottomless pit.
One so deep it can only my guilt, and in it I sit.
Waiting, I’m waiting.
My eyes and ears are closed, although I can feel it come.
I am sightless, but I can see where it is headed from.
Crying, I’m crying again.
I am falling from grace, waiting for the warmth of a friend.
Even though my eyes are closed, I cannot endure to see the end.

not to be too critical of the poem, but the "One so deep it can only my guilt, and in it I sit' line does not flow, only because of the stumbling on the '...it can only my guilt, ...' slowed me down.

I am not sure if you did not type the word, but something seems missing. :surrender
 
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