Cherry

An Artist's Ribbon

never understanding the soul that painted it nor the glance of a new moon as life exhaled a breath of inner storm.
Poem of the week

Self control

It's always there.
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I'm on my own, it's better that way.

Sometimes i feel lost, excluded, i'm not deludeded. I'm by myself, it's better that way Not a single person understands. For Every tradgic loss, Makes me wonder, Why we live to die.

Watching over

Wake up now, and the mist settles like shards of my crystal ball you realize, I still live Somewhere in the sky I be watching you out on bike, to in bed at night around

BOXES, BUNDLES, BAGS

A charity shop Just one of many hundreds But this is the one I work in Midst boxes, bags and bundles. Every day donations come In every shape and size Books & knickknacks, shoes & clothes

Pain to take away the hurt

He stands there pacing his room tears streaming down his face, tears of worry and fear, how the hell did he end up here? Swore he wouldn't do it again wouldn't hurt her, breathing heavy,

Her Awakening

She looks at him sitting across from the kitchen table. It’s been a couple days since they last saw each other.

The Kite

The kite it soared

Dancing Dead Babies

They say it scars you for life! They say it consumes your soul! They say you never get over it! They say a lot of things … Am I so different? Or maybe? I’m just

Mask

Mickey wasn't a criminal. Sure, he'd done a few bad things but who hasn't?

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