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Random First Lines:It was the story of Mumbai; Maharashtra where the thirteen year old boy Srikant was living. » Read
Every single time I write a letter, I scorn myself for even thinking about him. I force myself to remember the pain he caused me. He would never read the letters anyway. So then why did I continue to write them and send them? I don't know, I think it was part of the healing process. Letting out...
"I'm here, he says; her very best friend,
His grip on her tightens: I'm here 'til the end.."
this is a love story of a girl with an alien how they fell in unexpressed love
By Miss Carmella Xx
Worried someones going to go and then they do
A story about a girl named Sumayah who grew in Kabul with her family from Kurdistan. On her 16th birthday; Sumayah have been told that she will get married to someone who she doesn't know at all because of her parents. In fear, Sumayah sneak out every night to search for a new way to be happy.
This is a part of daily lessons I have gattered from readings of life. Being a part of a bigger picture and motivating about the life as ones awesome experience is worth mentioned. I hope your ideas have been also given its unique role. Let us explore our own attitudes.
By Midnight Cat Lonely Child
People hurt themselves just to get the sense of relieve.
Â© Copyright of lizzie1124 This poem is about how I will never get over that one person. That one person that I still love and think about each and everyday. I try everything to get over my ex but somehow it never happens because I love him so much and miss him everyday since he isn't mine....
By Thoughtful Nights
I found myself late last night wondering what love is? have i felt it? really felt it? i am only 18 after all.
~Names changed for privacy.
Miscellaneous | Updated Mar 30, 2014 | Reads: 15 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
By Shelby B
I wrote this poem after a hard break-up to really help me get over loosing someone I cared about.
By Frenzee Da Rebel
Memories can be a powerful thing
By Moody Glum
While hitchhiking through New Mexico, I met a a troubled young man who was kind enough to give me a ride, though not kind enough to spare me his unpleasant story. With him he had letters that he'd written his love. He gave them to me, and as they only make me want to drink more...I give them...
Obsession or desperately looking for love? Maybe both...
I wrote this for my mother who I wish I could please.
Poetry | Updated Jun 2, 2013 | Reads: 10 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
By Riss Ryker
Domestic Violence. It happens in every culture around the world. But we don't have to live like this!