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Broken Eggs
She walks in the room;
drops her eving dress
lighted she walks
silently down the hall.
White wine floats fatefuly
down white walls
spilling over white capret.
Outside a white picket,
conceals the crimson tears.
Black shoes, with his black suit,
marches down the pitch drive.
Wandering away with unknown steps
he walks alone.
His hardened black lie
mask his golden ring.
Contrasted hope brings
the last moment of pain.
Sharp with vengance;
wrought with dispair.
Three litle dreams
drop into the void,
and three litle wishes
fall in place of their pride.
Loss is all that is found
in the meander of love
turned regret.
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| I had almost forgotten Min, that I was writting for soley you, I jest. Anyway yes I do realize my spelling is less than up to par. "No one ever learned me how to spoke" |
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Comment by: Min - 2006-05-05 10:01
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| I need you to spell things properly....poor spelling and poor grammar detracts from great words. |
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| Void of the need to continue to care, is how i viewed the situation I wrote about. |
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Comment by: - 2006-05-04 21:23
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| Loss and regret. Some people say at least you once loved, where others would say the pain of losing love is not worth the love lost. I really could not tell you having never been in love. I like your choice of words of what i see is a relationship void of feelings. |
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| Thank you, Leah. I am glad that it appealed to your senses |
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