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All she's ever knownShe's all alone and she knows it.
They tell her they can help,
say she don't have to be alone.
They don't seem to understand.
This road is all she knows.
(Years and years it's all she's walked.)
She walked alone through the freaky tress
and stood against the scary bees.
You can't come in when the path starts to clear.
(You can't reach out a hand in the easy parts.)
She couldn't handle you leaving like all the ones before.
(She is alone and this is all she knows.)
Days pass by and soon a months already gone.
She finds herself alone once again.
She don't question it and she doesn't stop walking.
(she walks till she can't know more.)
This path is all she truly knows.
And you judge her on that.
She grew up on this path of pain.
She learned to walk on this little bath of hers.
(no parents ever truly there.)
she learned to read and write and watched as everyone walked on by.
(she never had a chance.)
she's not sure how much more she can take.
Step off the path or keep on moving.
(all she rea
A reason?You know those little questions people ask
the ones that really make you mad
especially when it's asked every day
like the one my mother likes to repeat
"have you put the scar cream on today?"
I always give her the same answer
She doesn't ever like my answer
She doesn't ever like me
It's just the way it's been
I bite my tongue
because I know
I will be in trouble if I speak up
She asks ever day when I wake up
The first thing I hear out of her mouth
Every single fucking morning
I wish she would stop asking
I don't want my scars to leave
"Did you take your medicine yet?"
Why does she even bothers with this one
I honestly don't know
I could look her in the eyes and say yes
and she will never believe me
She never does
I must take them in front of her
She holds no trust for me
Ever night at dinner
She tells me to grab the bottles
I wouldn't even be done with my food
She makes me take them
then I sit there eating
"What did you mess up today?"
Usually she says this with a serious face
DreamsI dream that..
For a day I'll be clever.
For a day I'll be pretty.
For a day he'll hug me and smile and chat and it'll be like we'd never been strangers
For a day I won't shut up no matter who I'm next to
For a day I'll be happily in love
For a day I'll stand up for what I believe in
For a day I'll be married
For a day I'll be a mother
For a day I'll be a writer
Forever I will dream and believe,
That if these dreams can last a day,
I'll have lived a good life.
But if theses dreams can exceed a day,
I'll be the luckiest person alive...
But no one calls out
Again he will shout
She is gone
And he knows this
She is gone
And there is nothing he can do
A small feeling in his heart
That told him
Her soul and body were apart
"I love you!"
But it's too late
"I loved you..."
But now it's out of date
Black clothes and thoughts go
He tells them about her
Tear stung eyes show
He conforts her mother
He knew as well
He knew and yet was blind
He knew how she felt when she fell
But denial invaded his mind
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More