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From Nuit's Universe
If you look sideways, you'll see an entirely different picture. Unless your closing you're eyes, in which, you'll see nothing at all.....
Next time
Next time, take a look around.
Before you step on someone.
Maybe next time you'll notice you did.
I'm trying so hard to be nice.
And not blow up in your face.
But, you're not making it easy.
Maybe.... it hurts never being loved.
Maybe you never knew.
But that doesn't mean you're pardoned.
Maybe it hurts being the one nobody likes.
The one no one ever remembers.

Next time, maybe I'll say something.
If I do, you'll hate me.
I'll say it in such a way, that surely you'll hate me.
Maybe that's for the better.
Maybe I'm supposed to be hated.
If I say something, you'll take it the wrong way.
You always do, don't say you won't.
You complain, and complain, till the cows come home.
There is a sunrise, you know.
But, I guess you wouldn't.
You don't care about that, do you.
You only care about yourself, and complaining your life away.
I hate you for it.
I really really do.
It's almost worst than Him.
Because, I never loved Him.
I loved you.
But, you're not making it easy.
I can't give much more.
You could.
You're just to selfish to care.

Next time, maybe it'll be the last time.
Maybe that'll be the time, I'm pushed over the ledge.
You should see it comming.
In fact, I've already told you.
But you don't care.
In fact you said go ahead.
I don't love you.
Is what I heard.
I don't care about you enough to care.
Whether you live or die, laugh or cry.
it's of no difference.
I've got more important people to care about.
Like my son, or my other friends.
But not you.
You don't matter at all.

Next time i won't do anything.
'cept cry inside, and kill more of my heart.
or, whatevers left of it.
Not that you care.
Because, I'm replacable.
And apparently they aren't.


--- If anyone actually reads my journal (which they don't, even though I read all of theirs.) maybe they should feel guilty. A lot of it could be about them, if I wanted it to be. Or, a lot could equally be about my family. Or about nothing at all. This is one of my dual person poems. It's about more than one person, yet they probably wouldn't know it unless i told them. When I finally grow some ambition, and end up doing something, ten to one says they'll say they never saw it comming. that is, if their alive to say anything. I'm leaving clues all over the place. Why won't anyone read them?


nuit_douce
Community Member
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  • User Comments: [1]
    ...i think i get it

    comment ultima 1 · Community Member · Sat Mar 15, 2008 @ 08:53pm
    User Comments: [1]

     
     
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