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I CRY... I TRY..As the skies
filled with dark clouds
& the angry voices so loud
My mind feels so empty
im a bit misunderstood
Will i be this way for good..
Now i can feel my heartbeats faster as another thunder
Growls with anger
for you i cry, i cry, i cry..
my best for you i try, i try, i try
Im like an angel with a broken wings
Your like a vicious viper deadly when it stings
My heart is broken
You left it all unspoken
I can feel my heartbeats faster
As reality hits me its now or never
Ode To The YouthI've seen so many of them young survivors
I've seen them tried hard to be part in this big endeavor
They've been cut deep by this deadly sharp razors
Some of them cried,and hide
Some of the die with there hands tied...
As i looked into the eyes of them young warriors
A glint of hatred in there eyes
Rage in there hearts, as fear dies inside each of them it echoes through
the skies all the lies and cries
Of the young one's trying to fight
Of the young one's trying to see no light
Of the young one's trying to pretend that
they are blinded coz they have no right
Of the young one's who tried to shut their mouths so tight
As they try to unviel their souls
You tried to stop them and made human walls
Victorious you are,You've seen them fall
But little did you know they try to rise
When they heard each other's call
As I silently watched millions of dreams shattered
In front of me..It hurts to see them cry becoz to them it mattered
I see our country it cries and it bleeds
I see it slowly dyi
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More