Some promises are broken
Before they're ever made This is terrible and short and I need to do better than this -Atlas
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And they said
that being a poet would give me words but stars and skies and mountains cannot describe how lucky I am to have you I'm not liking my poetry as much... maybe I need to expand away from free verse? Because when there aren't any rules there isn't really a way to tell if you're improving or not... -Atlas Every person is an ocean.
The last thing they should be afraid to be Is deep I don't think this makes sense (who cares! I'm writing something. Of little value, but it's something.) -Atlas There is a difference between the sweet,
empty words we hear so often and truths that have been repeated once too many times I swear I can't write a decent poem to save my life (gah) -Atlas Sometimes I turn around
And I'm surprised You're still there do you ever just look at your friends and think 'what did I do to deserve such amazing and patient people' -Atlas You will find home in the whispers of the trees in autumn.
Or in an empty warehouse Listening to your own heartbeat. You will find home in a flock of birds A group of passing strangers Who you almost--almost--knew. You will find home in the happiest moments of your childhood In the very first friend you made And every friend since. You will find home in a library In school In a hospital. Home Is not just a house. Does this even make sense? Eh. It's late. -Atlas How ironic
That the very thing keeping you from greatness Is your preoccupation With yourself Things I wish I could say to people (to be fair though I'm guilty of this too) -Atlas No matter how much time I am given
Somehow I always end up Here Whyyyyy are these so bad -Atlas If you spend your whole life
Waiting for someone Is it really your life? I really should look up how to write better poems -Atlas Broken fragments
Of a melody loop through my mind (At least my head has good acoustics) What even is this -Atls |
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