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Rolling FreedomYou sit there watching everything we do, and it never changes how you stand tall and nobel.
It's almost as if you're the caring mother. Noticing that the child has made a mistake, but you don't scold, you forgive.
You look out over the earth that we all inhabit. You let us roam your vast expanses, and sit under the trees you produce. You let us have adventures, and let us experience everything.
I'm sorry that we destroy you to find what you hide deep beneath, and to make travel a shorter distance.
But for letting us gaze upon your beauty is something I will forever thank you. Thank you for being beautiful.
Boy Meets World"Life is tough, get a helmet."
That's what they always said to me.
But in this moment life is too much
So I'll end this drawn out misery.
It's not as if I will be missed.
I'm on thing you could all do without.
I however will miss you all.
And maybe he'll tell me what it was all about.
If there were any purpose to my life
I'd have fulfilled it by now, right?
Relieving all of you of this high school crap!
That's what it's been about and it ends tonight.
I didn't min hearing about it
From time to time it was alright.
But endlessly seeking my unwarranted advice
Why do you all find me every night?
I don't blame you, those who took my help.
I wanted to give it for a long time.
It was those who hurt me far too much
By using me, getting my help when you really needed it, when the one who you chose left you behind. I was there for you when you needed me, and chances are I will be there next time. But know this: you chose the one you did, and now the option I gave you so many times, the one that
Tried And Fell ShortI've been working so hard just to do what makes me happy.
Then it doesn't make me happy at all.
It seems like I should give it up, make a new path for myself.
But all the work I've put in should not go to waste.
It's not that I'm ungrateful for all the help I've had.
It's that I'm ungrateful for the result that I put forth.
I'm not worth the time to better my preformance.
I'm worth the time to be told to find something better to preform.
I've been trying my best in this season past
And nothing to great has been shown.
And the moemories of this season will last.
And I hope that I will have grown.
Now I'm not giving up. I'll see this to the end.
Maybe next year I'll try something new.
I've had a good time and I thank you all.
I'm sad that we have to stop so unreasonably soon.
Just So You KnowI gave you my heart my soul my life,
You just hand it back and say "it isn't right."
I told you "I love you" but it wasn't enough,
we talk about everything even the little stuff.
You know what I want, just can't apply it to you.
I have no idea, no hint, no whisper what to do.
I redefined my love, and to you I never lie,
I just think that to be without you...I'll die.
I'll explain what you need to know whenever you ask.
I know you'll understand once we let the thought bask.
The only thing left to let you know,
Is that you give my heart the warmest glow.
This isn't a poem of love and regret,
But of the joy that we ever met.
It may not come across too clearly.
But what have I ever said that did?
The Romance of Memory.You know how I feel, it radiates from me.
It shines from my face, hands and every portion you see.
You and I have taken the first step.
We're here together, glad we met.
Let's stay on course, clear and true.
I'm not gonna leave, I'm gonna be here for you.
You take your space, you take your good time.
As long as I'm yours, and you are mine.
I'm here whenever you want.
If you just want a quick jaunt.
Now stand real close, don't turn your head.
And tell me if you like what I've said.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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