The Way You Look Tonight Chords Mouse Rat

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Agnella Datson

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Aug 5, 2024, 12:22:25 PM8/5/24
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Oneday I hope to see you again,

But until that day comes I am alone.

You were the only one who understood me.

You understood the things I was going through,

You held me, loved me, made me feel good.

Now that you have left

The darkness is overwhelming.

You were my light, my strength, and my life.

But now it is all gone

And I can never hope to get out of the eternal abyss I am in.

Not until you come back to hold me again.


Listen to her cry over a fired gun.

Watch her as she tries to find gauze

Can you smell the frustration?

Can you feel consequence sapping her strength?

Can you sense how much she deserved it?

The misunderstood throat is here.

But now she sings a different tune.

She thinks this poem will fix it.

[But you know she lies.]


Just hear me out; I love you.

And there are not words to describe my love.

I can twist my words and make them into pictures,

But I cannot speak around you.

For my words leave my behind in there escap,

And leave me speachless and alone.


As the stars fade to light,

And the moon disappears behind the sun,

You swear to reach out and catch a star.

But it will have to wait for night,

For right now the stars hide behind light.


Within us all is a butterfly

The carrier of dreams, messages, wishes, thoughts

The carrier, the symbol of our soul.

Unknow to us at birth it is at the lowely caterpillar stage

As we grow it devolops and cocoons

Then the cocoon begins to break,

Our true selves flourish and break free

Only to be stifled by ourselves as we try to present a certain image.

Caged, the butterfly flutters its wings hopfully

At some point or anotherthe cage is unlocked and the butterfly

Opens its wings in a brilliant deplay of color.


For ages boys have repressed their true selves

In their attempts to be what their fathers want them to be.

These days their has been a revolution

One by one gradually for a few decades now

The butterflies have been revolting.


For ages girls have guiltily cluthed their butterflies in a

Desperate attempt to keep their secrets.

Afriad of what their mothers will say.

Those butterflies have been revolting too.

Breaking the bars and escaping the confines of their cages.

This has lead to the acceptance of many things,

Not one hundred percent but better than it once was

Dazzling bright these butterflies have been locked in the

Darkness of cages hoping for a more appropriate color to form

From the subconscious fear that mainstream society will perhaps

Help the cage implode.

That they too will join the statistics

Be another heap of crumpled metal with glimpses of beauty visible.

All butterflies share the same hopes and fears,

But only some get to fly free.


at what the world could be like without people in boxes.

Much more exciting, energetic enthusiastic, ecstatic elastic

exploding! A sea of happy faces, happy bearded faces! An ocean of eccentrically dressed people crashing against a sky of music! Mystic manic morostorospandifidus music!


My heart moved on past the rain, into searing hot sun.

The physicality drying and aching, nothing. The dryness was almost like the pain of fear.

Dry and aching, but the familiar heavy ounding inside my heart was absent.

Only a slow murmer.

My heart moved on past the sun.


Delicate, silk petals float on the warm breeze

to a place where they can rest.

Broken blossoms such as these have overcome

the rain, the gusts, and the children

to reach this place of peace.


Roaming distant lands would set me free,

The soaring sensation in my soul is so me.

Then again, living my dreams would be just fine,

It would be nice to see a published work of mine.

Perhaps along the way I shall find a man

Just crazy enough to go along with my plans.


How does one keep a secret?

Even if it was never one to begin with?

How does one lock something away?

Something precious?

How does one deal with pain?

The type of pain that lasts?


How does one go on each day?

Even after a part of them was cut away?

How does one resist the tears?

The ones that always overflow?

How does one hold themselves together?

When all they want is to fall apart?


If I could write you a poem and make you fall in love,

I would already have right under my arm.

If I could write you a poem and make you fall in love,

I would keep you tucked away out of harm.


Let the oreo melt you

Let the firm dark cookies smother the inner cream

Let the oreo fill your taste buds with heaven

The oreo is black, the oreo is white

The oreo sings songs of misery when taken from its home

The oreo knows it has lost the fight


Let the sun serenade

Let the sun beat upon your head with golden wisps of warmth

Let the sun speak sweet, and soft, on your skin

The sun immerses the day with shimmer

The sun makes the dark cower in fear

The sun sheds light upon tonight

And I, love the sun.


The rhythm makes strangers dance with each other.

The rhythm uplifts your worries as you dance to its provocative beat.

The rhythm gets us snapping our fingers and singing along while moving our feet


The sunshine takes away the chill as it shines in through the window sill.

The sunshine invites you to bask in it as it speaks to your soul.

The sunshine will gently kiss you before it leaves, only to return again.


Parallel Poem

Let the rhythm take you

Let the rhythm move every part of your being

Let the rhythm wisk you away

The rhythm knows just were to go

The rhythm has been to far places

The rhythm can teach you if you let it

And I love the rhythm


The fall makes happy children, going apple picking

The fall makes thankful families, all sitting down

together.

The fall hums a soft melody, whooshing past the window panes, tightly secured for nighttime.


darkness fills the world that we all know so well

like the back of our hand or so we tell

love is yet to be a guiding light

but when lost we also denounce our sight

the pains that run through a heartless mind

are not rare, fair and definetly not kind

when love has no purpose are we really alive

the pain that we all cherish is kept inside

when you are left out in the dark with no form of guidance

we sooner or later feel our own pains from our own silence

our mind will wonder on and our thoughts will hurt

and soon we will notice the cold wind like we have lived without a shirt

the pains of a lost child are oh so long gone

when someone has been hurt we get new light like the breaking dawn


The concentration camps where they put me

and my mother and other women in a room

and tell us to wait. Then they start to shot us

through the holes in the walls. As I get hit by a

bullet in my chest, I fall to the floor and start to

fade out.


Hurricane

The sweet, gentle pitter-patter of the drizzling raindrops on my thatched roof top rings against my ears,

the thrumming thunder crackes in the distance beating with my heart as a murderous melody,

lightning darts across the sky as a flash of writhing electric snakes slither through the smoky black air,

lighting up my tear drenched face with a cruel shadow,

harder and harsher the wind angles the rain,

crashing against the knarled, withered trees,

spattering the leaves with in burning, iced drops,

the thirsting ground drinks in the moist puddles as creatures hide,

Hide. From the shadow demons that claw and bite,

lightning strikes the ground illuminating it with a chaotic light.


So I just dance knowing that some saved lives depend on others

Staying is the killed option of the stressed lover

As if splitting one of the crying brothers

Throwing my arms at the constellations, I take the hand and watch as I let the clouds cover


Kneeling before me, he threw the ring back with surprise

The coward he brought to this park, had started to rise-

With an uneasy feeling I started to turn

But before I could run I felt a familiar burn


He looked so sorry and made whimper that carried such feeling

He was scared and so was I so I figured everything happened for a reason

So with whatever dignity I had left in me

I picked him up and named him parolee


Genesis had small precious hands.

She wanted to know your deepest darkest secrets

and promised not to tell anyone.

Somehow they slip out of her mouth anyway.

I could never stay mad at her,

she was too innocent.


I was confused at first.

Thinking intently about how my days were spent.

Counting my imperfections, my rights and wrongs.

Things I could never run away from, but tried to so often.

Not realizing the same beautiful thought removed me from peace.

Could I define beauty?

Could I for once define anything in the world?

Every humble heart, cheerful and red.

Yet mines remains blue. (Selfish thought I guess)

Could I ever question the forces of nature?

Could I make my own assumptions on my own timing.

No, for blue is still and never changing.


I love how everyone is as they see themselves.

In the next 23 years, if you look in a mirror will that be true?

Will your heart long for a red desire as mine?

Will you ever realize it was I?

Will you even get a clue?

I shall never get the time back,

time to fix mistakes.

Precious time to start over and have a new future.

While the sun shines my heart takes breaks.

And the weight of it,

the weight is so unbearable, like a rock in my chest.

Patiently, waiting for a chance to be broken.

Then there was you, my world finally taking in peace

finally at rest.

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