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Literature Text
Dear young heart, I know you are inexperienced, but I have a lesson you may be able to understand:
Love is not independent. Love is formed between two that are dependent on each other to form an independent. So do not love with only your heart. Be sure that your brain has a say in which decisions are right. If your heart falls, make sure your brain says it is okay to let another pick it up and listen if it says no. It may be hard, but you should pick yourself up when you have to. Don't let your heart independently control. Let your heart and brain rely on each other to complete an honest independence with another.
~ Sincerely, the girl who thought the brain knew love better than the lost-in-itself heart.
Love is not independent. Love is formed between two that are dependent on each other to form an independent. So do not love with only your heart. Be sure that your brain has a say in which decisions are right. If your heart falls, make sure your brain says it is okay to let another pick it up and listen if it says no. It may be hard, but you should pick yourself up when you have to. Don't let your heart independently control. Let your heart and brain rely on each other to complete an honest independence with another.
~ Sincerely, the girl who thought the brain knew love better than the lost-in-itself heart.
Literature
The Journey
Beneath my skin, my veins pulse with desire
To know why I am here.
As I journey to find the answers to life,
I sail through the monotonous seas
That stretch forever beyond the horizon.
As my ship sails towards the dry land,
Mountains tower before me,
Filling me with both awe and intimidation.
But the mountains are eroding as time passes by,
Into merely fragments of what they once were.
I move my eyes and watch the glaciers
Melt slowly into rivers.
But even though they disappear,
They melt to provide water for all life on this planet.
You could say rivers are created by glaciers for a purpose.
I ponder those mountains and glac
Literature
Adios
Son las seis de la mañana y el aire comienza a enfriar los cuerpos que se encuentran en el andén; apenas es verano pero el frío no perdona a los foráneos. Vapor sale de las ventanas que se encuentran junto al viejo reloj que hace mucho dejó de emitir el tic tac que anunciaba el próximo llegar de los convoyes. El concreto del edificio hace que las plataformas luzcan más frías y lúgubres de lo que deberían. Gris y noche hasta donde alcanza la vista. Los olores de la tierra empapada por la lluvia aún cuelgan en el aire esperando quien los acoja.
Las máquinas estáticas que esperan
Literature
Real Estate
The cost of intellectual property has gone up.
I can already feel the ideas curdling like milk,
Strings of silver silk lining
Tangling it up so neatly--
A package for the loan-shark in my bed in the morning.
A message to my lover, to whom I owe such a debt:
All you ever do anymore is take.
My poems crumble at the touch,
Fading into the clusters of Sunday brunch and Family Guy reruns.
What's the price of the two seconds of quiet
Without a pile of unfilled lines awaiting my autograph
Ruffling through the papers you'll have me sign-
What wouldn't I give to sign with the devil, over you...
Teetering on the corner of thought,
My pen limp and b
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© 2014 - 2024 LMW-The-Poet
Comments1
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Words of wisdom, my friend. Our rational selves and our emotional selves must cooperate, not fight.