It is always hard
To grow Because growth means failure Means stretching yourself In a way you've never bent before It takes the willingness to try again And again, and again When I look back at these poems, will I hate them because they're bad or love them because they're honest? - Atlas
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This free time is
Iridescent I cannot look at it directly Lest it disappear before my eyes I am not quite sure What to do with it. Is this bad? Absolutely. Do I care? Not really - Atlas The time I spent with you
Seems brighter somehow And more distinct Than the countless other moments I spent alone I love you all - Atlas Pour your love
Into these moments They are the only thing We ever really have So our play is over--I love the cast and crew so much (hhhhhhhhh I'm not ready for the seniors to leave) - Atlas Wherever you are
I hope our stories reached you Touched you, made you different Than you had been before I hope our stories made you grow or: plays are fun and you should do them and go to them - Atlas If niceness is the fertile topsoil
In which opportunity grows Then kindness is diamond ore threaded Through crushing stone Raw, uncut, Unbreakable So it goes - Atlas I am always too much or too little
If I succeed, It is due to the help of others And my own good fortune Because there are so many others Who try so much harder and don't get half as far. If I fail, It is my own fault because I had been given Everything I needed to succeed And still found a way to fail (Perhaps one day I will just be enough.) ho hum - Atlas Trying to get a promise from me
Is sometimes like looking to the ocean for answers You could spend your whole life pleading by its shore And come no closer to the secrets hidden In its depths this doesn't feel very clear to me (oh well :P) - Atlas Uncertainty is always hardest
When there is a faint but distant hope Because the pain and the fear remember What it felt like To be joy I'm not sure if I conveyed what I wanted to but hey I tried, so at least there's that - Atlas And at the end of the day
We get to go home To our busy, full lives Burying deep in our hearts the knowledge That you will go to sleep And wake up Alone What lonely lives we lead - Atlas |
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