X's And O's

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  • xdavidabramx
  • tear the petals off of you, make you tell the truth // Hole

X's And O's

"So, it's cold,"

So what?

He says things that don't make any sense
But they all make sense in his head
And he knows that they're all staring
But he knows that they don't really care

He's not an illusion
But he likes to pretend
He plays pretend on playgrounds
Deep in his head

They only come out when the sunset is lit

The candles burning
The ropes turning
Everything alive

Except for him
And his yearning

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

xdavidabramx’s Poems (44)

Title Comments
Title Comments
the body 1
Snow Gutter 0
X's And O's 0
Movies 0
Head 0
Mind (Lines O) 1
Heart (Lines X) 0
Sucker/Snippe
t
0
Easter 2
Voodoo 0
Backseat 1
Dear Rita 0
Slender/Necki
ng
0
Medulla 2
Chocolate 0
Mirror 1
Fuck You 2
Moving 1
Utopia 1
Forgivenes 1
Daddy 4
Like You 1
Monster 1
No More 0
I Love You 2
Twist 0
Purple 2
Breathing 0
Hell 2
Heaven 1
The Shore 1
Aerial 0
Ecstatic Process 0
Tell Me A Lie 0
I Remember 2
All I Need 2
Happiness 1
Mine Are Open Wide (Alas De Par En Par) 1
That I Would Be Good 0
Her Name Was Kitty 2
Je Veux 0
Property Of [Reprise] 2
Property Of 1
I Deserve It 0