The lost thoughts of the unheard.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Okay this poem is about how at night I can never sleep because I have so much running through my head. Random thing, the future, the past, my worries, my hopes, and pretty much anything else you can think of. I hope you enjoy, because frankly I am proud of this one. =P

Submitted: January 17, 2009

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Submitted: January 17, 2009

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The sights,
The sounds,
The flavors,

And oh, so many ideas.


I want to show the world,
What I have done.
If they only listened….


It’s dark,
I can’t see.


“Open your eyes.
I want to show you something.”


I hear the swoop of a hand,
Motioning to what should be seen.
I see blackness.


“What am I supposed to see?”


“Whatever you want to see, my dear.”


“Why do I not see a thing, but an abyss of darkness?”


“You are unknowing.
You do not trust.
In yourself.
In others.
The world can not show itself to those who are blind.”


“How, will I become able to see what you show me?”


“If I told you, would you believe me?”

"Though seeing isn’t what makes life.
Life is wake makes you want to see."

I can’t exactly see what is in front of me.
I see a blur of lights and shapes,
But at least I can see.

UGH!
I’m Going Insane.
Oh!
But isn’t it gorgeous?


Look at the vivid images.
Don’t you see them?
Oh, I do.
And they are wonderful.


My, my,
And the words.
They flow quite lovely.
Like a buffer fly.
In the current of a stream.


The words, the waters.
They bubble .
They explode!
The Pictures,
The future,
They rain down in liquid drops of ash.


It delicious,
I wish you could taste.

The snosberries,
they actually taste like snosberries.


I grab my pen,
And rummage for paper.


I want to draw you a pretty picture.
Of what I see in you,
And what I see of me.

Of what the world
could be.


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