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Poems On / About SLEEP  2/6/2016 5:26:40 AM
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Best Poems About / On SLEEP
 
 
 
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  197.     

Pv12

Another night without you and I'm down to my final beer, I tried to do it all but my mind refuses to clear, photographs of you still flash in my sleep, I tried to slow it down but maybe I fell to deep, I can't sleep, aint slept in what feels like an eternity, all of these emotions just keep burning me, it's turning me, and I'm losing control, now every time I see you, I grab my shit and I gotta go, I can't take this pain, it's like knives in the rain, this crazy ass life has me going insane, I tried to change, but I couldn't and I know it sounds strange, but girl I did it all and it's me you can't rearrange, Remember back when everything was going great, all that went to shit when you told me you was late, but then we had our time, when everything was fine, romantic little dinners and a couple bottles of wine, work our way from the table to the bedroom where we got it, where everything we seen just reminded of why we started, I never figured out why we ever really parted, but then I got to thinking of how you was always cold hearted, you tore me up n threw me out like I was nothing, memories of a girl who was always caught frontin, now I must be goin crazy if I think you were my baby, maybe I should take a step back and take a look at where we're at
 
Johnathan Todd

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  198.     

The Status Of Death

In a sleep you don't know if you sleep.
You don't know if the world exists for you.
You're ignorant of your past and the present.
The status of death is the status of sleep.
 
Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.

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  199.     

More And More

More and more




More and more everyday I have a pain in my heart. It all happen just from a start. Of meeting someone now that I love dearly many people see this picture clearly./ that she is someone that I really love like a mom someone that I can really trust. More and more everyday I cry at the thought of not being able to speak or even take a peak at the one I love so and never ever let go.. The time seems to go so slow and still no show. I miss her she was like treasure as I child that I would always kept without it I never slept. If I slept without my treasure at night I wept to the stars high above whispering in the ears telling their ears for my treasure back not worrying about the sleep I would lack. I just wanted what made me feel special, wonderful. and beautiful. A treasure only I knew the directions to and where X marked the spot.. I had the map to my special treasure now my map is floating about. Knowing this I am always looking out.. For that day my map rolls by and I get to capture my treasure again in my arms that treasure that was always mine.. I love you ms Miranda..
 
Jamelia Lane

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  200.     

Fire Island

my mind is infinitely insane.the part of the brain that degenerates the music note known as love dont exist.my mind is terrified of the fact that i sleep, eat and play in the same yard.a cage is a cage is a cage.the lower half of me is 44 years old, and i dont do numbers much.pointing out the fact, yall want to hunt but you dont want to kill.the will of art is to build a case, not divy up willy nilly dividends like poems and sex hits.parts of me are in every state when the wind blows, and a cow goes home across the moon, waving a flag, we surrender, we americans.thats not it you think, thinking americans dont lose, but you miss the total point of the thought.i got wind in the knees and it breaks my heart to cry, wind in the knees is harm to a fellow.the mello yello is dry here, been in arrears for years.spear me a gum fish just to eat, is there any gum under the dirty old mattress i sleep on? the one with no sheets? i wanna beat poet and rock star, but rocks are thrown in the air and we live on green grass.another flash from me, this is the last point, dont divvy up me with willy nilly divdends, i got depends on the C.I.A. bet.they watch? they do.so go ahead and report me US message board, they have your number.already ruined and the fight hasnt even started, thats yall.millions are dying while we stand by and launch attacks at nothing, bombing empty old infrastructure wont change iraq boys, but a pepsi might.get the light on, what do you die for? envy is love, and god above, dont beat me to the punch, i dont have any lunch money nor any place to sleep on the road.the mother of all art is, dont kiss me, risk me, the cops frisk me and i already did the thing of reports.the rose is red, and its offered.the spot on the wall is blood from an old injury, one i didnt report.now i got to go retort to the law in the air, they dont care.every envy in me is out there, i wont play the part of allen ginsberg or jim morrison, they accept men sexually, i dont, they would be more to your liking christians.
 
chris bowen

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Poems On / About SLEEP