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Georgia Grace Jan 2016
My heart is like paper
You can leave your mark
I will let you express yourself
I will not judge your feeling, your thoughts.
But if you mistreat me
I will crumble .
As paper ,you wont be able to fix me.
The lines will always appear.
because of you all those around me will see the lines you left.
BUT unlike paper I can not be recycled.
I can not be made new.
So be weary of my paper heart!
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
The true me is disregarded ,
but there's only me to blame
For I created a mask that smiles
even through the pain.

Behind all the smiles were the tears
And behind all the comfort were the fears.
Everything you think you see,
Wasn't everything there was to me.

If only I could pull off my mask
and stop this painful farce
but deep within
my essence stings
to leave it a as a undone task.
Just something I through together  haaha
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
A angel lost her grace,
As tears ran down her face.
She forgot love, remembered hate.
She no longer holds her faith.

With tear stained cheeks,
Through bloodshot eyes,
She saw only sadness and suffering inside.
And a heart she couldn't conquer.
A heart she lost,But not forgot
Is now replaced with anger.

As the day changed to a gloomy night,
Darkness filled her heart.
Her wings vanished from her back,
And her kindness fell apart.

She was meant to rescue wondering soul
but instead she lost her own.
she no longer know which place she should call home!
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
Life is hard to live sometimes
when the light inside no longer shines.
Everything around becomes so dark,
I grab a knife to leave a mark!

Afterwards there is regret
People will see this ****** mess
For a moment I just thought of me
But now my mark effects all who see!

I'm so sorry.
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
You speak but can not hear.
you look but can not see.
you touch but have no feeling.
you are strong, yet you are weak.
you possess beauty but your ugly.
you are intelligent yet dont understand
and
you still stand in front of me and act like you care!
I have found that some people use there physical attributes for most of their approaches in life rather them using emotion, their heart and metal awareness'.
I wrote this a couple years ago . I was going too edit it and make it a reflection on me now but thought its simplicity was refreshing.
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
She stood near the rope
in silence and fear.
For the demons of darkness
had driven her here.

They shattered her soul
Ripped it out of her chest
Making her believe
That the demons knew best

They were always near
Sometimes just out of sight
Waiting in the shadows
Till the time was right

These demons were destructive
Knocking down the life she knew
Hating everything about her
She hated herself too

These demons are translucent
But they're far from fairy tales
They live inside your mind
Their evilness prevails
Georgia Grace Jan 2016
We are the hypocrites in the land of no religion, so easy to judge but not to listen.
Some preach perfection when there fill with an ungraceful infection. Those who follow there religions are hypocrites and they lie but the truth is that we are all imperfect but we try.
Why should one person not be with another when with all guards down we all sin but what’s so wrong with spreading what you think.
Love is the base of all religion, it the way it’s shown which is in contradiction.
But if two people display the same intentions why should the tittle displace their feeling.
I was once told that its evil that create bad things, then I was also told love was created by god but then again I was told my loves wrong.  (What?)
Those who say I should choose the “right guy”, insinuating I hadn't tried.
Shown not compassion or love inside because it was I who know what you imply. The fact that you think the religion defines, the fact that you are not wise but otherwise not following the lines in which you say I should pursue because wasn't you who hadn't tried too.
My first slam poem. The way it is read makes the difference.
This poem is influenced by a couple who join in hands despite there religious beliefs.
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