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I am disabled, so I can't travel, and I have not been to any development meetings, but Gary and the others affiliated with the film keep me updated on everything.

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You need an R rating because without one, you can't advertise and the film won't get shown.

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2 2=5

Are you such a dreamer?
To put the world to rights?
I'll stay home forever
Where two & two always
makes up five
I'll lay down the tracks
Sandbag & hide
January has April's showers
And two & two always
makes up five
IT'S THE DEVIL'S WAY NOW
THERE IS NO WAY OUT
YOU CAN SCREAM
& YOU CAN SHOUT
IT IS TOO LATE NOW
BECAUSE
YOU HAVE NOT BEEN
PAYING ATTENTION
I try to sing along
I get it all wrong
Eezeepeezeeeezeepeeezee
NOT
I swat em like flies but
Like flies the buggers
Keep coming back
NOT
Maybe not
All hail to the thief
But I'm not!
Don't question my
Authority or put me
In the dock
Cozimnot!
Go & tell the king that
The sky is falling in
When it's not
Maybe not.
(ahh diddums.)

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Rabindranath Tagore

The Gardener XI: Come As You Are

Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If your braided hair has loosened if
the parting of your hair be not straight,
if the ribbons of your bodice be not
fastened, do not mind.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
If the raddle come from your feet
because of the dew, of the rings of bells
upon your feet slacken, if pearls drop
out of your chain, do not mind.
Come, with quick steps over the
grass.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
Flocks of cranes fly up from the
further river-bank and fitful gusts of
wind rush over the heath.
The anxious cattle run to their stalls
in the village.
Do you see the clouds wrapping the
sky?
In vain you light your toilet lamp
--it flickers and goes out in the
wind.
Who can know that your eyelids
have not been touched with lamp-
black? For your eyes are darker
than rain-clouds.
In vain you light your toilet lamp--
it goes out.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.
If the wreath is not woven, who
cares; if the wrist-chain had not been
linked, let it be.
The sky is overcast with clouds--it
is late.
Come as you are; do not loiter over
your toilet.

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Think of lovely music

I think of lovely music
May be same divine magic
Deep love and pain mixed with joy
In silent corner to watch and enjoy

May be love has only one language
To take care of feelings and assuage
Little fingers moving in curly hair
Whole world at feet to find it here

Whole of my time is spent in search
You cant find it in dark even with torch
Heart must be delighted with burning pain
There is place somewhere to cry and n wait for rain

As air thickens with lovely melody
It becomes concern of no body
It silences the sadness in corner
The fire is extinguished from the burner

It is possible words may not be understood
It is equally true not to have supplemented for food
But it has given some relief to know it better
Music can keep you love alive and nicely cater

Pain may vary with high and low tones
The doors slowly open and path is shown
Love may be meant to be embrace
Stand up in faith and make it truly to face

What it does with ailing mind?
It is dead already for nothing to find
Search has ended in failure
Life is uncertain and not sure

Not even wealth or drink may satisfy
They will add to woe and surely multiply
Nothing may come out of it even if you cry
You may feel dejected and nothing may be left to shy

There won’t be anything for coming to aid
So many good words are known to have said
Nothing is helping to come out of great shock
The eyes are paining as they run out of stock


Only few options are open to relax and enjoy
The nature is full of means to provide the joy
It is how we can pick the thread and tie
There is enough with bird’s wing to fly

Some language must be tried to convey
It can provide some relief much to our dismay
There is hidden strength in songs and music
It has something to do with anything that is tragic

Evenings may turn dry and noon so hostile
You can go for fresh air in morning meanwhile
Still nothing as such can compare the lovely melody
You may love to donate everything even if you are miser or greedy

There is divine blessings coupled with harmony
This might have not been experienced by many
Yet that has ruled several ailing mind with much relief
Music to ears is rare blessing and it is firm belief too

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The Three Graves. A Fragment Of A Sexton's Tale

The grapes upon the Vicar's wall
Were ripe as ripe could be;
And yellow leaves in sun and wind
Were falling from the tree.

On the hedge-elms in the narrow lane
Still swung the spikes of corn:
Dear Lord! it seems but yesterday--
Young Edward's marriage-morn.

Up through that wood behind the church,
There leads from Edward's door
A mossy track, all over boughed,
For half a mile or more.

And from their house-door by that track
The bride and bridegroom went;
Sweet Mary, though she was not gay,
Seemed cheerful and content.

But when they to the church-yard came,
I've heard poor Mary say,
As soon as she stepped into the sun,
Her heart it died away.

And when the Vicar join'd their hands,
Her limbs did creep and freeze;
But when they prayed, she thought she saw
Her mother on her knees.

And o'er the church-path they returned--
I saw poor Mary's back,
Just as she stepped beneath the boughs
Into the mossy track.

Her feet upon the mossy track
The married maiden set:
That moment--I have heard her say--
She wished she could forget.

The shade o'er-flushed her limbs with heat--
Then came a chill like death:
And when the merry bells rang out,
They seemed to stop her breath.

Beneath the foulest mother's curse
No child could ever thrive:
A mother is a mother still,
The holiest thing alive.

So five months passed: the mother still
Would never heal the strife;
But Edward was a loving man,
And Mary a fond wife.

'My sister may not visit us,
My mother says her nay:
O Edward! you are all to me,
I wish for your sake I could be
More lifesome and more gay.

'I'm dull and sad! indeed, indeed
I know I have no reason!
Perhaps I am not well in health,
And 'tis a gloomy season.'

'Twas a drizzly time--no ice, no snow!
And on the few fine days
She stirred not out, lest she might meet
Her mother in the ways.

But Ellen, spite of miry ways
And weather dark and dreary,
Trudged every day to Edward's house,
And made them all more cheery.

Oh! Ellen was a faithful friend,
More dear than any sister!
As cheerful too as singing lark;
And she ne'er left them till 'twas dark,
And then they always missed her.

And now Ash-Wednesday came-that day
But few to church repair:
For on that day you know we read
The Commination prayer.

Our late old Vicar, a kind man,
Once, Sir, he said to me,
He wished that service was clean out
Of our good Liturgy.

The mother walked into the church--
To Ellen's seat she went:
Though Ellen always kept her church
All church-days during Lent.

And gentle Ellen welcomed her
With courteous looks and mild:
Thought she, 'What if her heart should melt,
And all be reconciled!'

The day was scarcely like a day--
The clouds were black outright:
And many a night, with half a moon,
I've seen the church more light.

The wind was wild; against the glass
The rain did beat and bicker;
The church-tower swinging over head,
You scarce could hear the Vicar!

And then and there the mother knelt,
And audibly she cried-
'Oh! may a clinging curse consume
This woman by my side!

'O hear me, hear me, Lord in Heaven,
Although you take my life--
O curse this woman, at whose house
Young Edward woo'd his wife.

'By night and day, in bed and bower,
O let her cursed be!!! '
So having prayed, steady and slow,
She rose up from her knee!

And left the church, nor e'er again
The church-door entered she.
I saw poor Ellen kneeling still,
So pale! I guessed not why:
When she stood up, there plainly was
A trouble in her eye.

And when the prayers were done, we all
Came round and asked her why:
Giddy she seemed, and sure, there was
A trouble in her eye.

But ere she from the church-door stepped
She smiled and told us why:
'It was a wicked woman's curse,'
Quoth she, 'and what care I?'

She smiled, and smiled, and passed it off
Ere from the door she stept--
But all agree it would have been
Much better had she wept.

And if her heart was not at ease,
This was her constant cry--
'It was a wicked woman's curse--
God's good, and what care I?'

There was a hurry in her looks,
Her struggles she redoubled:
'It was a wicked woman's curse,
And why should I be troubled?'

These tears will come--I dandled her
When 'twas the merest fairy--
Good creature! and she hid it all:
She told it not to Mary.

But Mary heard the tale: her arms
Round Ellen's neck she threw;
'O Ellen, Ellen, she cursed me,
And now she hath cursed you!'

I saw young Edward by himself
Stalk fast adown the lee,
He snatched a stick from every fence,
A twig from every tree.

He snapped them still with hand or knee,
And then away they flew!
As if with his uneasy limbs
He knew not what to do!

You see, good Sir! that single hill?
His farm lies underneath:
He heard it there, he heard it all,
And only gnashed his teeth.

Now Ellen was a darling love
In all his joys and cares:
And Ellen's name and Mary's name
Fast-linked they both together came,
Whene'er he said his prayers.

And in the moment of his prayers
He loved them both alike:
Yea, both sweet names with one sweet joy
Upon his heart did strike!

He reach'd his home, and by his looks
They saw his inward strife:
And they clung round him with their arms,
Both Ellen and his wife.

And Mary could not check her tears,
So on his breast she bowed;
Then frenzy melted into grief,
And Edward wept aloud.

Dear Ellen did not weep at all,
But closelier did she cling,
And turned her face and looked as if
She saw some frightful thing.

PART II.

To see a man tread over graves
I hold it no good mark;
'Tis wicked in the sun and moon,
And bad luck in the dark!

You see that grave? The Lord he gives,
The Lord, he takes away:
O Sir! the child of my old age
Lies there as cold as clay.

Except that grave, you scarce see one
That was not dug by me;
I'd rather dance upon 'em all
Than tread upon these three!

'Aye, Sexton!'tis a touching tale.'
You, Sir! are but a lad;
This month I'm in my seventieth year,
And still it makes me sad.

And Mary's sister told it me,
For three good hours and more;
Though I had heard it, in the main,
From Edward's self, before.

Well! it passed off! the gentle Ellen
Did well nigh dote on Mary;
And she went oftener than before,
And Mary loved her more and more:
She managed all the dairy.

To market she on market-days,
To church on Sundays came;
All seemed the same: all seemed so, Sir!
But all was not the same!

Had Ellen lost her mirth? Oh! no!
But she was seldom cheerful;
And Edward look'd as if he thought
That Ellen's mirth was fearful.

When by herself, she to herself
Must sing some merry rhyme;
She could not now be glad for hours,
Yet silent all the time.

And when she soothed her friend, through all
Her soothing words 'twas plain
She had a sore grief of her own,
A haunting in her brain.

And oft she said, I'm not grown thin!
And then her wrist she spanned;
And once when Mary was down-cast,
She took her by the hand,
And gazed upon her, and at first
She gently pressed her hand;

Then harder, till her grasp at length
Did gripe like a convulsion!
'Alas!' said she, 'we ne'er can be
Made happy by compulsion!'

And once her both arms suddenly
Round Mary's neck she flung,
And her heart panted, and she felt
The words upon her tongue.

She felt them coming, but no power
Had she the words to smother;
And with a kind of shriek she cried,
'Oh Christ! you're like your mother!'

So gentle Ellen now no more
Could make this sad house cheery;
And Mary's melancholy ways
Drove Edward wild and weary.

Lingering he raised his latch at eve,
Though tired in heart and limb:
He loved no other place, and yet
Home was no home to him.

One evening he took up a book,
And nothing in it read;
Then flung it down, and groaning cried,
'O! Heaven! that I were dead.'

Mary looked up into his face,
And nothing to him said;
She tried to smile, and on his arm
Mournfully leaned her head.

And he burst into tears, and fell
Upon his knees in prayer:
'Her heart is broke! O God! my grief,
It is too great to bear!'

'Twas such a foggy time as makes
Old sextons, Sir! like me,
Rest on their spades to cough; the spring
Was late uncommonly.

And then the hot days, all at once,
They came, we knew not how:
You looked about for shade, when scarce
A leaf was on a bough.

It happened then ('twas in the bower,
A furlong up the wood:
Perhaps you know the place, and yet
I scarce know how you should,)

No path leads thither, 'tis not nigh
To any pasture-plot;
But clustered near the chattering brook,
Lone hollies marked the spot.

Those hollies of themselves a shape
As of an arbour took,
A close, round arbour; and it stands
Not three strides from a brook.

Within this arbour, which was still
With scarlet berries hung,
Were these three friends, one Sunday morn,
Just as the first bell rung.

'Tis sweet to hear a brook, 'tis sweet
To hear the Sabbath-bell,
'Tis sweet to hear them both at once,
Deep in a woody dell.

His limbs along the moss, his head
Upon a mossy heap,
With shut-up senses, Edward lay:
That brook e'en on a working day
Might chatter one to sleep.

And he had passed a restless night,
And was not well in health;
The women sat down by his side,
And talked as 'twere by stealth.

'The Sun peeps through the close thick leaves,
See, dearest Ellen! see!
'Tis in the leaves, a little sun,
No bigger than your ee;

'A tiny sun, and it has got
A perfect glory too;
Ten thousand threads and hairs of light,
Make up a glory gay and bright
Round that small orb, so blue.'

And then they argued of those rays,
What colour they might be;
Says this, 'They're mostly green'; says that,
'They're amber-like to me.'

So they sat chatting, while bad thoughts
Were troubling Edward's rest;
But soon they heard his hard quick pants,
And the thumping in his breast.

'A mother too!' these self-same words
Did Edward mutter plain;
His face was drawn back on itself,
With horror and huge pain.

Both groan'd at once, for both knew well
What thoughts were in his mind;
When he waked up, and stared like one
That hath been just struck blind.

He sat upright; and ere the dream
Had had time to depart,
'O God, forgive me!' (he exclaimed)
'I have torn out her heart.'

Then Ellen shrieked, and forthwith burst
Into ungentle laughter;
And Mary shivered, where she sat,
And never she smiled after.


Carmen reliquum in futurum tempus relegatum. To-morrow! and To-morrow! and To-morrow!----

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Travel Deep Beneath What Is Believed

You've got to give yourself a chance,
To probe your own mind.
And travel deep,
Beneath beliefs!

Before you try to comprehend,
Or take the time to probe mine.
I want to keep,
My privacy unseen.

Because I am not on the surface.
Freely skating,
Or looking for escapes...
To immulate.

Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
Because I don't travel on the surface.

I can be naive,
And free of scandle.
With a tinge of innocence...
That can be thought offensive.

Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
And travel deep,
Beneath what is believed.

You've got to give yourself a chance,
To probe your own mind.
And travel deep,
Beneath beliefs!

Before you try to comprehend,
Or take the time to probe mine.
I want to keep,
My privacy unseen.

Since I can be...
A lot to handle!
And travel deep,
Beneath what is believed.

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Emily Dickinson

We can but follow to the Sun

920

We can but follow to the Sun—
As oft as He go down
He leave Ourselves a Sphere behind—
'Tis mostly—following—

We go no further with the Dust
Than to the Earthen Door—
And then the Panels are reversed—
And we behold—no more.

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Only God Can Help Me

ONLY GOD CAN HELP ME

Only God can help me-
Only God can save me-

But why should God help me?
Who I am that should be helped,
when others better than me
have not been helped?

But I cannot be other or more than I am,
I pray for myself and those I love.

Only God can help me,
God help me -Please.

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How Can They Relate?

How can anyone,
Communicate to another...
Who has a reality that is clearly flawed?
When they believe,
They have an insight that can be trusted.
When they have never been alone...
To trust themselves on their own!

How can anyone,
Communicate to another...
Who has never taken a chance.
Or lived to rely on their own decisions?
How can they relate?
Or put things in perspective?
When it is from their own point of view...
They perceive the world turns.
And yet their opinions are shallow!

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Have You, Ever Been in Cathay ?

People today, like to travel around,
To places in big, places in small, and even,underground!
They travel by plane or by bus, by a boat or a motor-cycle,
Sometimes travel on a horse, or even a bicycle.

But how , can you travel and visit CATHAY?

For those who want to visit Cathay, it is to say CHINA today!
But in the past, the European, called it that way!
Even in Russian , it is pronounced KITAI,
So for you in privet, it doesn't matter why!

Again, I asked you, how can we travel and visit CATHAY ?

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At the last

There are certain themes
The intrest in them can be all asorbing

There are certain ideas
Of when we let our thoughts wonder, there are no limits

There are few romantisist
The feeling of love is all they crave

Where the ideas of travel
And the theams of instinct
Inter twine with passion of love
Lifting us from blood, toil, and sheaded tears

From the frosty relms
Came a hand
Made of ice
Its resting spot
Held on the crown of my forhead
Halting the activities
And the process of bias thought
Givin a choice
What image would I choose?

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I Can Only Blame Myself

I can only blame myself for my lack of success
The I am not good enough on myself I impress
In my mind of self doubt I have planted the seed
With my attitude at anything how can I succeed
And it does seem you are not that different to me
Since the frailties in others in our own selves we see
If you see yourself as not worthy not worthy you will be
It is self defeatist to think negatively
For my lack of success I only have myself to blame
And though to be self defeatist is not a cause for shame
Negativity is the mental rock that keeps dragging one down
Your barrier to financial success and renown
And sad to say our type have never been rare
There are plenty like us in the big World out there.

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If You Can't Smile And Say Yes

(louis jordan, timmie rodgers)
Knock me a kiss, you'll never miss
When i'm ready to go.
But if you can't smile and say yes,
Please don't cry and say no!
Squeeze me a squoze in these fine clothes,
Mmmm...i love you so.
But if you can't smile and say yes,
Please don't cry and say no!
When i ask for a date, the answer is no.
You don't know what you're saying.
Don't you know the war's on,
Everything is rationed,
How 'bout that jive, keep me alive?
Baby, let bygones be bygones,
'cause men are scarce as nylons.
And if you can't smile and say yes,
Please don't cry and say no!
~interlude~
Baby, let bygones be bygones,
'cause men are scarce as nylons.
And if you can't smile and say yes,
Please don't cry and say no, no, no, baby
Please don't cry and say no.

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Travel Is Not Really About Leaving Our Homes, But Leaving Our Habits

Take a trip with me, -'we' are the destination,
Do not allow this ardor's retreat, do not hesitate
To embrace this most beauteous, everlasting 'vacation';
Let the magnificent feeling inside you, to resonate
To all who see you, to all who know you, and all need know-
Show them that they too, need find their destination, and need go
Now, not at some other time, or in some other place:
'Travel is not really about leaving our homes, but leaving our habits...'**
Life is too short, so when love's beautiful melody inhabits
Our soul, we simply must travel to this place, without delay-
If you do nothing when given this choice, you shall wonder about the day
That you refused to live your dreams, because you allowed fear to steal them!
Your dreams are most certainly your own, but you should never conceal them,
For the sake of anything, especially fear, no matter what form it may take!

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Go The Distance

You got me headed in a new direction
Got no reason to turn around
Ain't got no looking back or second guessing
It's time to find what love is really all about

Go the distance
Let our hearts lead us on
All the way to forever tonight
Can't resist it
The feelin's way too strong
Go the distance this time

The road to love is paved with shiftin' gravel
We may find ourselves on shaky ground
And there ain't no place that these two hearts can't travel
Even when we're miles apart together we are bound to

Go the distance
Let our hearts lead us on
All the way to forever tonight
Can't resist it
The feelin's way too strong
Go the distance this time

There will be rainy days and bridges left to cross
But if we lose our way we can't get lost if we

Go the distance
Let our hearts lead us on
All the way to forever tonight
Can't resist it
The feelin's way too strong
Go the distance this time

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Harem Holiday

(words & music by peter andreoli - vince poncia jr.)
Gonna travel, gonna travel wild and free
Im gonna pack my bags because this great big world is calling me
Every pretty girls gonna know Im around
Theyre gonna know Im in town on a harem holiday
Twenty women, twenty women by my side
Im gonna kiss them all, because Ive gotta keep em satisfied
Gonna have the best time money can buy
Im gonna be flying high on a harem holiday
If romeo had a harem holiday
You can bet that juliet would have never been his girl forever
Gonna go back, gonna catch that midnight plane
Twenty dancing girls are waiting just to call my name
Gonna have a ball, I aint gonna waste no time
Im gonna make em all mine on a harem holiday
If romeo had a harem holiday
You can bet that juliet would have never been his girl forever
Gonna travel, gonna travel wild and free
Im gonna pack my bags because this great big world is calling me
Every pretty girls gonna know Im around
Theyre gonna know Im in town on a harem holiday

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To His Love When He Had Obtained Her

Now Serena be not coy,
Since we freely may enjoy
Sweet embraces, such delights,
As will shorten tedious nights.
Think that beauty will not stay
With you always, but away,
And that tyrannizing face
That now holds such perfect grace
Will both changed and ruined be;
So frail is all things as we see,
So subject unto conquering Time.
Then gather flowers in their prime,
Let them not fall and perish so;
Nature her bounties did bestow
On us that we might use them, and
'Tis coldness not to understand
What she and youth and form persuade
With opportunity that's made
As we could wish it. Let's, then, meet
Often with amorous lips, and greet
Each other till our wanton kisses
In number pass the day Ulysses
Consumed in travel, and the stars
That look upon our peaceful wars
With envious luster. If this store
Will not suffice, we'll number o'er
The same again, until we find
No number left to call to mind
And show our plenty. They are poor
That can count all they have and more.

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The 'Me' I See And The 'Me' I Can Be

I look at you and I hate what I can truly be
There's something I just can't let them see
But you are the only one that can call me out
The only one that can tell me what to think about

My bones are twisted in the most atrocious of ways
My heart warped more than these lies can ever say
I see the flame that burns so bright, beautiful eyes
Even more sanctified with the tears which mark your cries

Yet you stand by my side, solemn in forced acceptance
And with mingled blood we show our disturbed repentance
You wrap me in a warm embrace as I relive our demise
I won't stop because only this blood can ever satisfy

I watch, trapped within my contorted, clouded mind
As a being takes over my body, a body I can't find
It rips through such snow like skin, where do I begin?
At the end I wake and I scream as I relish in our sin

You say I'm not to blame, no more than my past
But I can never tell how long this bliss will last
Until theme' that I can't see chains me once again
And I shower you in blood red pain, once more insane

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Help Me If You Can (Fun Poem 60)

It all started in October
when I had a series of mini strokes.
Ever since then my brain
has run amok.
At first there seem
nothing had effected me.
Now I see something did happen,
someone has left the tap on
deep inside my head
and the words and poems
just keep pouring out
each and everyday.
Since October 329, written
and they are coming more and more.
Can someone please help me
to turn that damn tap off?
Everywhere I go and everything I see
suggest another poem
that has to be written down.
At the rate, I’m going
no one will be able to read
everything I write.
So please someone help me
to turn this damn tap off tonight.
Every now and then,
we get on a roll
and the poems keep
popping out of our head.
My problem is this roll I’m on
has been rolling for months
and each day it increases
in its velocity.
First, it was two or three,
and then it went up to four,
now it’s up to seven or more a day.
So please, please help me
to turn this damn tap off
or at least repair it to a normal state.

4 February 2008

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All I Can Say

The rumor spreads as fast as lighting.
The rumor of me being abusive to my brother.
So far, five other have come to me and asked if this was true.
I wanted to cry for I have never lay a hand on him.
But, I just looked at them with my deep brown eyes and said,
'All I can say is that the day I hurt him is the day when I die.'

The bullying spreads faster that an angry bull.
They bully me like we were little children.
I've already been called a loser, ugly, whore, and freak.
I try not to listen, but it grows harder and harder the more they do it.
But, I just looked at them with a silly look in my eyes and said,
'All I can say is that its your opinion of what I am.'

The pain grows larger inside of me.
The pain of a broken heart from losing my dear friend.
I've been holding back the tears so long.
Holding back just feel wrong.
So I burst into tears, while other in voices so cruel as me what's wrong. I just look at them, smile and say,
'All I can say is I'm tired of holding back the pain and the tears. So please, just leave me here.'

The day was long and trying.
My work was done.
Later that week people are crying over me.
I can not see but I can hear how they describe me.
With words that seemed like they never hurt me, I just lay motionless in that box and said in the sky,
'All I can say is, goodbye.'

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