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SEASONS

The Sun shone upon the earth.
I noticed and I hated so.
Night fall came and I got cold.
Winter I love-everyone hates.
I fondly think of Autumn,
When the leaves turn colours,
Fall off the tree and die.

May 3/2002  Sarah

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MISTAKES

People make mistakes,
And learn from them.
I make mistakes,
And live to regret them.
I've tried for too long,
To get help.
The "world" has failed me.
It's too far, too late.
One too many, too far.
Too much.
No-one.
Nowhere.
Impossible.
I don't understand what went wrong?

May 3/2001  Sarah

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~ More poetry is down the next page.







THE SMILE

The Smile.
It's deceiving.
It hides a million tears.
Who can bring her comfort?
When it turns into a frown.

The Smile.
It's deceiving.
It hid a million tears.
But no more she says.
There's a flood on it's way.
It's a storm, brewing inside her.
It comes. It goes.
She's unaware of the schedule.
The smile.
It's fading.

May 9/2001
"I'm deep in thought...."
I seem to write my best poetry when I am depressed. It's a release of the pain for me, somewhat. There may be triggers in some of the poems.
JUST A TEST

This world is just a test.
Pulling me in all directions.
The world feeds me lies.
They're all disguised.
I don't know them,
But they know me.
Testing me till I give in.
Turning in my failing life.
Open the door to the master waiting.
He welcomes me, telling me I failed.
That's what he wanted.
Right from day one, he knew I'd fail.
First my mother was tested.
Tested to raise a daughter she neve wanted
Wishing I was never born.
Stubborness, rebillion, illness' what I repaid
It's just a test.
Pulling me into darkness.
Darkness looms and never ends.
My mother will have her wish.
I'll disappear and be no more.

Sarah       April 9/2002
SCARS

Battle wound that never heal.
Scars to remind me of the fear.
Shadows follow me day and night.
I'll win you dear.
Let's repeat the battle.
Let me touch you, taste you.
Battle wounds that never heal.
Tremors, terrors consume me.
Never safe, never again.
Speak none of this,
For I will come.
Finish what I started.
Scared no more,
For do the job.
I don't care anymore.
Battle wounds that never heal.

Sarah  April 9/2002




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