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EMPATHY

*EMPATHY*
-Do you see this empathy i have?
The sincerity i have?
The forgiveness i have chosen to give?
For not just my mistakes but yours, i'm willing to forgive.   Sorry, that was a lie! I can't forgive. 
Not for 'how not bothered you are of how little you have sid. 
But maby the fact you have never wanted to even get to know me. 
Never really knowed me. 
I suppose i can never understand/get over just how quickly you disowned me. 
Maby you could at least help me see your point of view,whatever it may be- It will help me to at least get a glimpse of me-

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To my darkest fear

In days of dark I dream of loneliness
In the light, I see her face.
Time moves slowly then,
But is limited, yet.

The thought is etched into me
Like a witch's curse
Her voice, though it calls,
When will it dim?

I awake to tired pictures,
To videos and notes that bleed.
I recall the times we had
And I see the light, once again.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hello anyone listening, i'd like to tell a short story followed by a short poem. As much as it pains me to seem like your average young poet writer, I am an 18 year old man, and have suffered with many issues since I was a child. I have isolated myself from others, I wish to always be alone. I work a dead end job to make ends meet, I do not talk to employees, and they seem to enjoy it that way. I recently talked to a girl, she was nice, but it was clear she was different than the other faces I come across everyday, meaningless and odd as they seem. She seemed unhappy, though it was clear she wanted to seem otherwise. We talked, and though we have never said a word about it, we both have a similar outlook on life, we both disregard other people and similarly, don't seem able to understand ourselves despite it. But we understand each other. We both make sense to the alternate. I know I sound painfully like a child in love, trying to make sense of nonsense, but this feeling is meaningful to me. I don't mean to share my life story or anything, but lately, I wonder what is to become of us, and it has worried me. My dreams are unconventional, I see her beauty masked by the grip of death and darkness veiling her body, and i've turned to art to help me explain the reality of this to myself. Poetry has made me see the light in death, and unravel its' mysteries and monstrosities, so I wanted to write something, to give back to an art form which has graced my life, and to share it with the few that shall take the time to read and understand what I am trying to say. I don't do this for attention or fame, even the fun of it is in question of absolute, but it calms me, and I love to hear the stories of people with similar experience.

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I only collect lost things

When I met you I asked if we could be friends

And you told me

"I only collect lost things."

I said I was lost se you took me in;

In to your arms and on to your skin.

I was no longer lost, you were my home.

Because of your love I was no longer alone.

I found refuge in your wings

So you threw me away

And you told me

"I only collect lost things."

 B.J.G

 

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM FOR MORE POEMS @BJGPOETRY

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Behind and Beyond

Folder: 
2016

Behind each blow,

is passion.

Behind the mean words,

is a hurting heart.

Beyond the blood shot eyes,

is a mind clouded by unhappiness.

Each sleepless night,

has a deeper meaning.

The anger comes,

from a place of love.

The slamming door,

is only because there was care at one point.

 

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Took her away

Folder: 
Sad

I came home to this big house
Been working 8 hours at the ranch
Just to found this empty house


I can't believe that she is gone
Life ain't faire sometimes
Why did God take her from me


Life was so good
A beautiful house, a good job
And the most beautiful wife

I pray every night
Asking the Lord to give her back
But he won't grant me that wish


She is probably angel by now
Cause a woman like her
Would take the best place in heaven

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Goodbye letter

I write this letter to you
Saying that I am going to miss you
Saying farwell to our memories
Saying farwell to everything we had


We shared everything together

Laughter, Love, Sadness, Joy
We broke each others heart
But we always went back again


When you read this, I will be long gone
Taken by God's hand up to heaven
I know what I did to you
And I would do it again

You have so much more in life
More than I ever could give you


I'm writing this letter to show you
That I love you and always will
I did what I could to make you happy

It's time for me to say Goodbye now
I will see you in heaven

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সে যাবার সময়

সে যাবার সময়,


আমি কিছুই বলিনি,


পারিনি কিছুই বলতে,


বাজলো কানে বিদায় ধ্বনি!



এক একটি কদম ফেলছিলো সে,


যেন একটু একটু করে আমার হৃদয়,


নিচ্ছিলো ছিঁড়ে,


আমার মন বলল, হও না একটু সদয়!

 

 

কিন্তু যে যাবার সে যাবেই তার নিজস্ব পথে,

 

তাকে আটকানোর সাধ্য ছিল না আমার হাতে!

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Little Willy Green

Little Willy Green, a lone dandelion puff on the valley floor,

sat on a graying park bench, beneath a willow tree.

Though we’ve never met, I did consider him

as he sat no more than ten feet from me a few years ago.

There was something about him that tore my heart in two.

His eyes gave him away.

 

Looking at him, I knew

the boys taunted him and

the girls understood him. The dark circles under his red eyes told me he was

broken, a heart shattered, shrouded in shredded

clothing.

 

As I gazed at him, I imagined him sitting with a companion
at a place — not here.

He had peace there — his mind was still.

 

I knew peace was rare for him, considering the storm cloud his mother must be,

absentee father (who I’m sure is absentee) and that motley mob
flanked by his math teacher and campus counselor, who I am sure
must chide him about his not knowing how to throw a football. 

 

He did not remember their slurs
which stabbed him like a whip of bronze nails,
choked him like a noose,
and cut him like a razor blade.

 

He forgot it all

at that moment—in that place—as he sat on the edge of a gray sofa,
his large hands holding a stitch in his thin side. His bluish-green eyes were

barely visible through his

brimming tears. I don’t think he had ever felt such freedom.

 

Someone understood, and so did he,

wiping his tear-streaked face with the back of his soiled, canary yellow sleeve.

He regained his composure while

his companion recalled the punch line to his next joke.



A Piece of Advice

 

When boy meets girl from the other side,

Things were moving very fast.

No one could have ever imagined,

Things have gotten so serious.

 

Lots of secrets need to expose,

Lots of lies need to explain.

Hearts torn into pieces,

Don't know which way to go.

 

During that short time,

Things felt real, sadly its not.

Choose your man wisely,

That's all I have to say.

 

 

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