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Imperfect Poet

Poetry, short stories and other things.

Month

February 2016

Words

your words do not define me

your words define you

your words will not affect me

your words will affect you

your words are not because of who

i am

your words are because of who

you are

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Light Bulbs

I live in a

house of broken light bulbs.

Bursting,

breaking,

bulbs

in every room.

And dark,

dark they leave

the room that they inhabited

and inhabit

for the are not replaced.

That would be too cruel,

for even bulbs deserve

second chances.

I have been meaning to

I have been meaning to

write a letter to you, my dear.

Yet my paper stayed empty

and it reflected my words perfectly.

I have been meaning to

whisper dreadful things

in your ear.

I would tell you

of all that has happened

and how life has changed

for the better..

I suppose…

I haven’t written in a while.I am aware.

I was waiting.

Waiting to hear if you would ask

or you would bother to care.

I would have written about the world

and all its sorrow,

but words are only

words,

scribbles on paper,

white noise,

empty air.

I have been meaning to

write to you, my dear.

I have.

I swear.

Yet my words stayed

merely words,

empty air.

In a busy world

In a busy world

on a rotating planet

in a ever-moving galaxy

in a ever-expanding universe

it is hard to

stop

breath in

and remember why I am here.

Why I am part of this busy-bee community,

why I wake up every morning and study until

late every night,

why I smile at passers by,

why I have a little bit of joy and energy

even when I am dying inside,

even when the busy world is too

busy

to notice busy me

and my pain.

In a busy world

where I am minuscule

I am of importance,

for You said so.

After You have created this world,

these stars,

the sun and the moon,

the galaxy where our tiny planet

is plotted,

You decided that this world

needs one of me,

You decided that I am valuable,

beautiful and

to die for

and therefor I will be still

in a busy, noisy world

and know that You are God

and I will be busy and noisy like the world

proclaiming that You are God.

she was loved

she wore a cloak of weariness around her shoulders like a princess would wear a crown

she was tired

not only in a physical way but in every way possible

she was an emotional wreck

the world was closing in on her

it felt as if all the air has escaped her lungs and she was breathing sadness and swallowing tears.

but she was loved

and loved deeply and dearly

Your beauty.

Your glorious beauty is

all around

in every sunrise

every kind smile

every comforting word

every little creation

yet we choose to

only see the icky-black

in this world.

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