For what it's worth
I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen But it did If you are angry or upset I understand And for what it's worth (However much or little) I'm sorry. Whatever happens next is up to you - Atlas
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Maybe we are all doomed
In our own special unique ways Everyone and everything Fades eventually. But we are still here today We are not doomed today And maybe that's something Worth celebrating. Feels a little choppy but I still kinda like it - Atlas You can shout as loud as you want
Louder than the people who disagree with you Louder than the whole world, even But if you're shouting you're not thinking You're far too busy to consider changing your mind. Hmm - Atlas Another day slips by
Another fragment of another life Falls through my fingers As I move through the daily motions I wonder if these will be my glory days Once the nostalgia settles in When things were simple And life was easy and good. (I hope I remember That life is never simple or easy Not even in the glory days.) This kinda went all over the place but it is going somewhere I think - Atlas Quick as a blink,
A change One among countless turning points As the world shifts quietly In new directions. It is as simple as a light turning on A kiss hello A kiss goodbye And breath, exhaling For the first Or last time. For some reason this feels like a soft poem - Atlas Summer hasn't faded yet
Into the coolness of fall Or the bleak stretch of winter And if I close my eyes For a moment I can imagine it stretching on forever (And then the moment ends And I relearn how to love fall, and winter, and spring Each in turn Even if they do not carry with them The same peace Of an endless summer.) This kinda went all over the place. Who knows? Maybe I'll revisit it sometime - Atlas You are so much braver
Than anyone has given you credit for. Whatever lies ahead You are strong enough To face it. Just another generic poem - Atlas Sad stories are saddest
When they are told with hope When even the teller believes For a moemnt That things might work out all right Sometimes I feel like this is more a loose collection of random thoughts than actual finished poems. Oh well (also Kalo Mina! I hope I spelled that right) - Atlas |
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