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I have found hope where there was none,
light where there was dark;
love when all was lost,
these are the stories of my soul...

Unless otherwise noted, all poetry and creative writing is the original work of the author of this blog. All original work is copy righted ©, however feel free to re-blog any entry! Thank you for visiting, enjoy :)

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Posts Tagged: life

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Like a ghost at my bed three a.m. haunts the spot my heart used to be. In a room that echoes vacant…

___Endless_time____by_christel_b

Like a ghost at my bed three a.m.
haunts the spot my heart used to be.

In a room that echoes vacant night time
chats, I think of eternity in purgatory.

Locked in a rhymeless room with no view,
no paintings, no sheets, no floor, no air –

only a roof and four walls, screaming perpetually –
no one can hear

I suffer through a time without an end.

-L.J. Lenehan-

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In the early hours of night you walked in my room, rope in hand, ‘ready’, you said, ‘gonna finish…

In the early hours of night you walked in my room,
rope in hand, ‘ready’, you said, ‘gonna finish the job
thirteen years living as though you are dead’ he said.
 
Everything I never felt, all at once, an orgasm of pain
every nerve exploded in a micro vision of the pain
you caused, the years you stole, the heart you stopped.

-L.J. Lenehan

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An Artist’s Soul

An Artist’s Soul

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pizzaIt’s late, my head throbs,
your face has drained of colour,
if only, I could rest my head -
you might believe for a while
I always loved you.

Problems faded away at your death bed,
all I could remember was, for better or worse,
you joked, I’m here for the better,
I laughed, not knowing worse would be a frequenter.
I’m tired now, but promises from the start

remind us both – till death do we…

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Nature’s perfection

Nature’s perfection

Goodbye

Goodbye

Waking

Waking

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A dull ache took over the world
one fated day in May.

Flowers struggled to maintain
a simple bloom – that day.

Purveyors of love, were simultaneously
interested and bored.

What a sad day,
that fated day in May.

When the aroma of the spring
matched the stench my heart.

-L.J. Lenehan-
Presentation1

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On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like…

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like the breath of a dying man,

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like…

On the blooming daffodils of April, rain chaotically falls, each drop, hesitantly anticipated like the breath of a dying man,

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As I sketch each year, I fill the base of a jar, with a fabricated world of dreams ranging in… http://wp.me/s2B9OF-1100

As I sketch each year,
I fill the base of a jar, with a
fabricated world of dreams
ranging in realities

during the early hours of spring,
I think of you – thinking of me,
and I pay for all that blooms,
by shrivelling while my colour drains

for all the world to see,
during heavy rains
I remain many things,
but I am not what they see.

My soul does not sing
in empty fields, nor
does it speak of…

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