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Sarah Jean Ashby Aug 2011
Written August 1, 2011*

Four falling stars
So far.
We'll be friends, regardless.
Promise to keep in touch.
No matter what.
But none of it changes how I feel
Or how it hurts
To know that we'll never be anything more
Than long-distance friends
Through a life-line of texts
And weekend trips
That I'm afraid will slowly dwindle.

And nine shooting stars later
All we can really do
Is lay across my outback
And agree that
This. Just. *****.

Not so poetically put
But the truth
Rarely is.
Safwan Barnawi Oct 2017
Might I travel through time to see the crulety?
Of what we define as death or human mortality
That Limits our joys and the Godly given totality!!!
It keeps us in fear of the mythical divinity
Regardless of not knowing to which divine is superiority.
Leading us to rage, grief, and pain with helpless tragedy
Which we might even come to enjoy its collateral beauty.
We are told that time would heal the wounds with its mystery
Pouring rains of happiness to the unforgotten memories
Instead it flows like a wind shaking the pleasant acceptability.
I'd say time is a rutheless illusion full of ambiguities
that make you question why on earth would Gilgamesh seek immortality!?
Dedicated to my recently deceased uncle. RIP

— The End —