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poem
Поэзия
added by Princess-Yvonne
posted by saracomet
I'm the toughest pastry maker who has ever baked a cake.
My impressive little pastries are impossible to break.
Yes, my печенье and my Капкейки will defeat the strongest jaws,
while my muffins are impervious to power drills and saws.

Ты have never seen a danish или a donut quite so strong
and I bake the fiercest fruitcake that has ever come along.
Ты can chew on them till doomsday, Ты can chew till kingdom come,
but you'll never get a nibble, not a solitary crumb.

Ты can whack them with a hammer, Ты can hit them with a stick.
Ты can stab them with a dagger, Ты can beat them with a brick.
Ты can drop them from an airplane, Ты can blast them with a bomb
but my pastries will exhibit only peacefulness and calm.

I expect you'll want to test them. I encourage Ты to try,
but you'll never make a mark on them and here's the reason why:
I do something with my recipes no other bakers do;
when the cookbook calls for "milk" или "water," I use Crazy Glue.
posted by irena83
In this room of despair,
A man is sitting with demons
Inside his head.
In this room of memories,
Only death breathes,
A man lives with gloom,
A man dies with sadness.

Inside his eyes ,
In that depth of blue terror,
Years of despair are seen,
Years of struggle are painted.

His life,
Cruel and lonely,
Was never a joy,
горький and sad
This man lives with demons
Of past.

I can see the pain that
Is painted on his face,
Silhouettes of past that
Play this Музыка of terror,
I see only darkness and despair
Inside the eyes of a sad man.
This sadness is mine too,
This poem is written by the curse of
The children who will never meet happiness,
This poem is a poem of a sad man,
A man who sees nothing but greys.
posted by babyjay
true Друзья are hard to come by...
yet when Ты catch them Ты feel like Ты can fly...
Ты trust them,
Любовь them,
and talk of future...
Ты know that they will never lie...
and Далее to them Ты stand side by side...
Ты Любовь them,
hug them,
and share smiles with eachother...
oh how it feels when Ты know your important...
that Ты know Ты have some one to comfort you...
Ты hold their hand,
skip down the street,
and feel no defeat...
true Друзья are hard to come by...
but hold them tight so away they dont fly.
posted by stellie
I wrote this when I was still figuring out who I am and when I was clearly lost, about 2 years ago. Here goes:
Fake friends
I'm tired of pretending
That I'm always happy
When I'm some times
NOT!

I've got fake friends
Who call themselves
My friends
When they're NOT!

Friends are true,
They don't lie,
They don't pretend
And they're there 4 u.

My Друзья aren't true,
They do lie,
They pretend every day
And they aren't there 4 me.

How can 1 be happy
When they're pretending
And hiding
From reality.

No 1 is gonna kill u
When u stop pretending
They'll have 2 except u
As u'll have 2 except them.

I know it will be hard
2 turn...
continue reading...
added by ShiningsTar542
Your head, your bearing, your gestures
Are fair as a fair countryside;
Laughter plays on your face
Like a cool wind in a clear sky.

The gloomy passer-by Ты meet
Is dazzled by the glow of health
Which radiates resplendently
From your arms and shoulders.

The touches of sonorous color
That Ты scatter on your dresses
Cast into the minds of poets
The image of a цветок dance.

Those crazy frocks are the emblem
Of your multi-colored nature;
Mad woman whom I'm mad about,
I hate and Любовь Ты equally!

At times in a lovely garden
Where I dragged my atony,
I have felt the sun tear my breast,
As though it were in mockery;...
continue reading...
added by ShiningsTar542
added by zanhar1
Source: www.teamentheos
added by Spottedtail139
Source: Kaboom Обои App
posted by WolfHeart23
I live in a world
So far from home
Forever silenced
And sentenced to roam
The shackles are locked
And the воротник is tight
But nobody hears me
I'm too weak to fight
The stars that once twinkled
Are now dark in the night
And the moon that once shone
No longer gives light
On each sparse tree
No leaf is stirred
And the owls that once played
Can no longer be heard
Far in the distance I can see
A glimpse of weak light
That teases me
I watch it grow then fade away
Like a slippery fish
That just can't stay
And as I try to struggle free
The chains resist
And strangle me
As I fall back I clearly see
That a single bird
Flies over me
It stops to perch
Upon a stone
And opens its beak
In a sorrowful moan
A sweet sparrow
With no where to go
It Остаться в живых its path
And became a crow.
Votive Offering in the Spanish Style

I want to build for you, Madonna, my mistress,
An underground altar in the depths of my grief
And carve out in the darkest corner of my heart,
Far from worldly desires and mocking looks,
A niche, all enameled with azure and with gold,
Where Ты shall stand, amazed Statue,
With my polished Verses as a trellis of pure metal
Studded cunningly with rhymes of crystal,
I shall make for your head an immense Crown,
And from my Jealousy, O mortal Madonna,
I shall know how to cut a плащ in a fashion,
Barbaric, heavy, and stiff, lined with suspicion,
Which, like a sentry-box,...
continue reading...
I want to name for you, indolent sorceress !
The divers marks of beauty which adorn your youth,
I want to describe your beauty,
In which are blended childhood and maturity.

When Ты go sweeping by in your full, flowing skirts,
You resemble a trim ship as it puts to sea
Under full sail and goes rolling
Lazily, to a slow and easy rhythm.

On your large, round neck, on your plump shoulders,
Your head moves proudly and with a strange grace,
With a placid, triumphant air
You go your way, majestic child.

I want to name for you, indolent sorceress !
The divers marks of beauty which adorn your youth,
I want to describe...
continue reading...
THE DANCE OF DEATH

by: Charles Baudelaire

ARRYING bouquet, and handkerchief, and gloves,
Proud of her height as when she lived, she moves
With all the careless and high-stepping grace,
And the extravagant courtesan's thin face.

Was slimmer waist e'er in a ball-room wooed?
Her floating robe, in royal amplitude,
Falls in deep folds around a dry foot, shod
With a bright flower-like shoe that gems the sod.

The swarms that hum about her collar-bones
As the lascivious streams caress the stones,
Conceal from every scornful jest that flies,
Her gloomy beauty; and her fathomless eyes

Are made of...
continue reading...
added by Tenkic
Source: Tenkic