Be Free
Be free, freedom is what we are gave. Freedon to be unique. Be diffrent in world of same. Be the pink in a world of gray.
poem by Angela Ratley
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Why Does People Go?
Life flashes by and before we know it everyone has died no one to go home to, no there because they done said goodbye. It seems unfair to me death takes the best being, and leaves the worst to stay and live there life. Why why though? Maybe because they have a rought life and the people death took were good enough to go home and not be restless anymore longer in this shity life. We as humans don't comprehend why people have to go, we just been thought to let them go and mourn like we have been shown, but what I've heard death is a beautiful, peaceful thing. So why don't we want our loved ones to go?
poem by Angela Ratley
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I Love You Even Though You Never Cared.
I sit here and wait. Wait on you to come and be mine for once again, but what I will always wait on is for you to be mine for me to keep. Maybe oneday I will find someone to treat me right and you will see and it will be to late to have me. Oneday I will find a guy that's always by my side through the ups and the downs. You always come back and tell me you love me, but in my heart I truly am aware that you don't love me and you never cared. But deep in my heart you will always have a spot, but within that spot I will hate, but you took that spot of my heart, and that's yours to keep. You will always have that part of me.
poem by Angela Ratley
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The Ticking Clock
The clock's ticking, but which direction will I go? Life's passing me by, but I don't know where to run. Where do I start on this road? The road that lays ahead is my future of my life so I need to make the right choices, but life is pressuring me. Drugs and dropping out of school is what seems to be cool. Most of my friends have done it, but my mom says no. Will I be uncool? My mom so unfaifr maybe I should run away John did, but he died a few months later, drug overdose, got with the wrong crowds. They ran away from there family to. But maybe I should listen, my mom might acgually just care, and want me to make somthing of myself. I went to school and chose my moms advice, I came back to see my old friends, two died, one in jail, and the rest work at the grocery. I guess I made the right choice and went to school and didn't follow the crowds that thought they was cool.
poem by Angela Ratley
Added by Poetry Lover
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