| RICHY ANDREW'S POETRY WEBSITE |
| DECLARATION TERMINATION Some things never seems to be right, This stupid light blind my sight, This is about a looser spiritual guy, With all this stuff you only ask the why, What can I do? When is it due? Playing is over now... What am I talking about? Some make things hard in life, You were screwed up by a knife, Only if I could see you someday, But you're always busy in a way, When is it due? What is due? I'm called fade away, Won't you just go away? |
| THOU WHO SEEK WILL BE QUESTIONED Is it safe to sit right here? Cuz I've lost it...It's gone I can see that no one cares, I'm insulted and the thought...Is lost, The only way to keep me scared, Is thoughtless and wrong, Would it change if I lay down dead? Is it harmful? It's a thought...A thought, Can it be safe coming in? Tell the truth...With heart, In a dream I was falling down, And laughing...Out Loud, I miss you |
| IF HURT COULD KILL I DON'T KNOW HOW Say why I'm alway home alone. Play out that sad old tune, Stay out and away from the sorrows, No, It's to hard to swallow, Mysteries are mellow, When will I get started? How can you be so retarded? Say why are you here now? Don't even say "wow", If hurt could kill I don't know how, Well I got My Pudding and my Ice Cream, I don't know how cold it's going to steam It even left a familiar sign, I see myself in full deny, I won't forget the reason why, You were here to get me high, Hate those times I wasted out, With you never again...Let me go!, If hurt could kill I don't know how |
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| You're visiter # |
| THINK AGAIN BEFORE I'M OLD Why do my life always end whenever it's just starting? I see myself in a age where the pointing never ends, You're only impossible, My love for you is far too real, And then I thought of you, I asked myself "What should I do?", Better drink again before I'm old, My fun set off false alarm But sometimes it'll hurt, If there are some things I don't mind... Then make plans to do whatever, You're only Impossible, My love for you is far too real, And then you thought of me, You asked yourself "What should I do?" Better think again before I'm old |
| THE TORTURE'S WIN Laugh it out and let me over shake, Dismiss it out of my memory, I'm no invention or even a slave, No invention to giving...Torture, A thousand smiles makes that seven, Turning into my past, Why did it take me? Watching me on tape, I am Flying; I'm flying from the torture I am, How do you say the purpose of a scream? How do you say the purpose of a dream? All of these chains are pronounce dead, Fly back to earth and play, Why did they play? And blind me through the day? I am flying; I am flying from the torture I am, How do you say the purpose of a scream? How do you say the purpose of a dream? Torture |
| Welcome to my poem page, here you will find some of my favorite poems that I've written. All of the work you see below are my original work, no one else. I hope you will find my style entertaining and filled with some feelings. most of all I hope anyone who reads these poems will be able to read them good and also like what I was expressing (even though I have no idea what I was trying to say in them). Thanks for stopping by. And if you want to u can sign my guestbook telling which poem you like or which one you dont like or whatever. |
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| THE BROKEN SILENCES Sweet smell of A great life goes on the land, Urges to imply there's no fire in the wooden sky, I had a dream about living on the road , But wasted are boring...No reason for wakening, You about leaving at the end of the night, Can't be gone dream...Somehow that's just not right, Hanging World Record that has the world by departed, How many are left? How many are left? The fire have spoken and the candles ignite, As evil with sandals give away the plan, Hand loads of people, Maybe one or two...Are standing exhausted, Time past - Time Sold - Time wash - The years are old, Betrayed by trial - but it was a thoughtful dedication, Silence surprises by an early destination, The low downs will travel the world you'll see, A brilliant invasion while you sleep, A months worth of sins and some might turn out alright, But under the dye the days are night, A silence must speak so much louder than the world, The silence has spoken |
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