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Best Poems About / On LOST
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1.
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im lost
lost in thought
lost in love
lost in death
lost without love
lost lost lost
im always lost
lost in with the love im with
lost in this world
lost in the way of life
lost in the way we are
lost in the way of crooks
lost lost lost
why is everbody lost
in this world im lost
dalton lakin
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2.
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Lost
Lost feeling to care
Lost sympathy to spare
Lost patience to bear
Lost sense to keep fair
Lost endurance, to follow restriction
Lost peace, to stop frustration
Lost power, to avoid attention
Lost strength, to shun aggression
Lost courage, to sacrifice
Lost kindness, to be polite
Lost temper, to keep quiet
Lost thought, to be right
Lost anger, to control
Lost opinion, to give poll
Lost desire, to keep goal
Lost myself, to have a role...
Srishti Dahagam
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3.
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All To War
(to the soul of every victim of war)
I lost my mother
I lost my father
I lost my brother
And lost my dreams too
I lost my friends
I lost my family
I lost my sister
And lost my will too
I lost my school
I lost my work
I lost my city
And lost my rights too
I lost my day
I lost my night
I lost my sight
And lost my morning dew
Ezekiel Johnson
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4.
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But For Being Lost
As black imbued black, so was rendered the pitch of darkness
That befogged this godforsaken yard of graves -
And too the dank, til now forgotten chapel that
Did little to grace these forlorn grounds.
Yet here stood I, seemingly first to tread this weed-ridden soil
Since times of yore when life had erstwhile blessed this land.
But for being lost in solitude - as does a country wanderer -
Would I not have happened across this morbid landscape.
And though detail rendered barely visible to my naked eye
For desperately had the moon tried to break through this jet fog
A sense of something suffused the place.
Was it those tormented spirits desperate for absolution,
Or perhaps the gargoyles teasing me on whether they be of stone or living flesh?
I was drawn to the oak door as it enticingly opened in passage for me.
The organ called from down the nave and through the pale orange of unsteady light
- that which could only be mustered from the few discoloured, moribund candles.
Could I also hear a distant choir of stern voices, as if in effort to scold me?
As I approached, those tarnished pipes came into view.
Standing erect with gothic pride, they bore down on me with patronising air -
Exaggerated by the disjointed sneering of minor chords,
As if to state that insignificant I had henceforth no grant of solace.
In answer, I steadied my rocking legs and racing mind to wonder of this scenario.
And in doing so, I found myself waking from a cramped dream
Whence the message dawned: mine had been such a claustrophobic life.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
Mark Slaughter
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