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Literature Text
Right now I sit and watch as sadness shows from more then one friend. I try to let myself be cheerful, but sadness spreads through me like a disease. Sad is what I feel when you are sad, it's what I feel because you feel the sadness through and through. I feel sad that I cannot help you. I feel as though I'm not a true friend. True friends should be able to fix things like this. To cheer you up even when you're hurting. I don't expect you to show me a smiling mask. I don't expect you to cheer up just for my benefit. I won't ask you to change just for me. I will hope and pray that soon, someday, your days will become brighter, happier. Like you once were. Happiness is what I wish for you. Both of you. Sadness is the disease that hurts, happiness is the only cure now. But where can you find the sun on a cloudy day? Try not to hurt, try not to be sad, but never show me a fake happiness. For there is no clear blue sky on a rainy day.
Literature
Crying
Crying silently,
no noise is heard.
Tears stream down my face;
I desperately try to hide them.
I look around,
no one is there,
no one cares.
They simply walk right on by.
My soul burns as I think of my defeat,
never taking my mind off it.
The pain grows worse, day by day.
I don't know how much more I can take.
Crying silently,
all through the night.
I hope, someday,
everything will be all right.
Literature
It's Sad
I think Ive had all I can take
I gave you too much and that was my mistake
You took for granted all the love I gave
You never had to apologize,
Because I justified all your mistakes
I wanted your love so bad,
I ignored my pain and pride
Confronted by constant disappointment
And no, that never did subside
Hoping to manifest what I desired
I put so much into the dream,
But Ive become tired
Of building a lie
But that feels like a former life now
That feels like a different time now
That feels like a different me now
And no, you will never get to see how
many lives I will change
How many great things Ill do
Yo
Literature
sadness
It was everywhere, in the streets and houses,
on farms and now in the air itself.
It had come from history and we were history
so it had come from us.
I told my artist friends who courted it
not to suffer
on purpose, not to fall in love
with sadness
because it would be naturally theirs
without assistance,
I had sad stories of my own,
but they made me quiet
the way my parents' failures once did,
nobody's business
but our own, and, besides, what was left to say
these days
when the unspeakable was out there being spoken,
exhausting all sympathy?
Yet, feeling it, how difficult to keep
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I feel sad right now, so I got nothing better to do, I hope this isn't too boring.
© 2006 - 2024 Sesshomaru-Miroku
Comments23
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nice poem. I nearly cried while I was reading your poem.