Self appointed Berakdown

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Self appointed Berakdown

Love and hate filling my head, when will it all end?
Love and Faith filling my grave, how full will it get?
these things running through my head.
Dealing with it has gotten to bo too much.
Am I falling from my personalized grace?
Closing in all around me, can I survive?
confinments, restraints and demands on me prove to be too much.
when will I reach my breaking point?
My self appointed breakdown?
An angels face cracks and her is sole set free, why not me?
when will it be my turn?
To explode, to expand, to be set free?
flowers bloom, you on your broom.
My coffin made, my pelloe laid.
Moons smile because I fall.
Mountians dance because I can't.
Love and hate filling my head, when will it end?
Love and faith filling my grave, when will it fill?
Am I falling?  
Am I calling?
Am I sad?
Am I glad?
Am I hateful?
Am I Grateful?
These things mean so little to me, how will I ever know what is relevant?
Love and hate filling my head, when will it end?
Love and faith filling my grave, how full will it get?

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To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

Ariel’s Poems (18)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Void 0
8-12-10 1
Death is on my door step. 1
defenition 0
Luke 2
emma Linn 0
Rain 0
The rose 1
You'll never know 0
the tree 1
Internal turmoil of a confused poet 0
Staring like a Deer caught in the headlight. 0
Slit the wrist and let it flow. 1
Alone 0
Pain. 1
Self appointed Berakdown 0
My heart is aching. 0
Madness 3