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Literature Text
I just wanted to say thanks for the memories.
Looking back it's hard to pick out my favorites.
The ones that weren't so special I remember the most.
They were the ones that we tried to make the most of.
I never told you how much I liked playing rock band with you.
Or jumping on my trampoline or lying on my hammock.
Even just watching TV with you made me happy.
Though not as happy the special times that we've shared;
Those times were like our dates when we went out.
To the movies, water park, state fair, lunch, and roller skating.
I spent more time out with you then anyone else.
And I enjoyed every second that we were together.
But after all of that there's one thing that made you become my life.
It was the connection we had when we wrote our stories.
We could talk for hours about the characters and many scenes.
In a year we made three generations worth of characters,
And for four different families; that added up to countless plots.
We created people with assorted personalities, pleasures and pains;
And yet somehow there was always something funny about it.
Our main character could've be having a breakdown
And we could find a way to laugh about it no matter what.
Those stories always got me through the day and made it ok.
But although I do miss all of this the dates, sleepovers, and stories;
I could say they're what I miss most but that's just not true.
I miss you.
Looking back it's hard to pick out my favorites.
The ones that weren't so special I remember the most.
They were the ones that we tried to make the most of.
I never told you how much I liked playing rock band with you.
Or jumping on my trampoline or lying on my hammock.
Even just watching TV with you made me happy.
Though not as happy the special times that we've shared;
Those times were like our dates when we went out.
To the movies, water park, state fair, lunch, and roller skating.
I spent more time out with you then anyone else.
And I enjoyed every second that we were together.
But after all of that there's one thing that made you become my life.
It was the connection we had when we wrote our stories.
We could talk for hours about the characters and many scenes.
In a year we made three generations worth of characters,
And for four different families; that added up to countless plots.
We created people with assorted personalities, pleasures and pains;
And yet somehow there was always something funny about it.
Our main character could've be having a breakdown
And we could find a way to laugh about it no matter what.
Those stories always got me through the day and made it ok.
But although I do miss all of this the dates, sleepovers, and stories;
I could say they're what I miss most but that's just not true.
I miss you.
Literature
Lesbian
She treads carefully down the hall
Trying hard to ignore them all
Glares of hatred, harsh tongues full of words of disgust
Cutting people down in their world is a must
She doesn't interact, only races to her locker
Avoiding them who judge her for loving another
To them it's sick, disgusting, wrong
To her their love is like a song
Unending, beautiful, and necessary
Hoping one day they can marry
But she is still condemned for her love
Of a girl who is surely from Heaven above
You heard correctly friends, oh yes it is true
She loves a girl, with blonde hair and eyes so blue
The only thing that keeps her going each day
Is being ab
Literature
Perfect
No, you don't understand;
I'm not trying to impress you,
I'm trying to out-do her.
Okay.
Maybe I'm just trying to impress you.
Isn't it
The same thing?
Can you blame me, really?
You're so
Perfect.
Everything I've ever dreamed of,
You are.
You say, "come on,
Baby. You know I'm not
perfect."
(you're wrong.)
You say
You love me
You want me
You care.
And you say
I'm beautiful
I'm funny
I'm brilliant.
But you're still with her.
And it hurts.
Literature
Just Dreams
In the future I want to love and be loved. I want to marry and grow old with her. I don't want to fear my heart being decimated. I want someone to let me hold them all night and forgive me if I snore or talk in my sleep. I want to be more comfortable with her than I am in my own skin. I want to trade stories about all our scars and memorize every freckle. I want to be accepted for all my mood swings, negative qualities, and weird quirks. I want to lay in her lap and look up at her while she strokes my hair. I want to learn about her culture. I want to hold her hand in public and not care if other people are looking. I want to try hard to be a
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The tittle is also a FallOut Boy lyric; don't sue me. Everything else belongs to me, blah, blah, blah. Enjoy the poem.
© 2010 - 2024 Thbestfrnd
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