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    (Original post by Zapsta)
    No it wasn't. And it was original :|. Self esteem. Shattered
    Don't worry about it - most of them have ignored my cod masterpiece too. :secruity:
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    Come on, is this all the entries I am going to get?
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    Inside Picture...

    I sold myself a picture-perfect
    Portrait of your Soul
    Hung it on my inner wall
    You held me in your thrall
    Your words were none to speak of
    And your mind was hardly there
    Sweet nothings so substantial
    Lest the truth be all laid bare

    And so I loved between your lines
    And so you lived inside my mind
    And so I never drew the line
    Until...

    Convictions hazy like the Moon
    Refracted through a mist
    The Sun was nowhere to be seen
    The truth did not exist
    Your mute visage spoke volumes
    Of a noise behind closed doors
    I suffered the deficit of the doubt
    But the benefit was yours

    And so you hid behind your lines
    And so I lived inside my mind
    And so I never drew the line
    Until...

    Between your lines
    And in my mind
    I find
    We are
    Unkind

    Outside these lines
    And on your mind
    Sweet nothing’s
    All I find

    Throughout my mind
    Between your lines
    My plans are
    Undermined

    And to my mind
    I’ve come to find
    I am
    No longer
    Blind.
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    (Original post by Trousers)
    Is either of you a cod?
    That depends. Do you navigate by sense of smell alone?
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    That depends. Do you navigate by sense of smell alone?
    Not that I am aware of.
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    That depends. Do you navigate by sense of smell alone?
    Or have scales, for that matter :eek:
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    Not very good at this but here goes;


    Despair In Pale Ruin, Deeper

    Angry silence,
    Screams through the room.
    Like a sharp blade of immovable doom.
    Whimsical sight to see,
    Them all staring at me,
    Through the smoldering heat rise,
    A perplexing face,
    Some unwelcome lies.
    They ring,
    yet no answer is made.
    They sing,
    Yet the chorus it fades.
    Fades into the background,
    To be sung once more.
    the one I desire,
    And the one I admire,
    Not shown in this song,
    Yet sung in the one,
    Which is tainted with lies,
    Spoiled by the ghost,
    Who was long since passed,
    Into the realm of mysterious times,
    a box filled with terrible rhymes.

    Read the rest of them here
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    my poem is called river

    river run
    run river run
    run runny river
    river run run
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    (Original post by mik1w)
    my poem is called river

    river run
    run river run
    run runny river
    river run run
    Lol, classic :p:
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    Emotional Fairground.

    On my rollercoaster of echoes,
    ‘Don’t look down’ turns and turns,
    But as I glimpse the afternoon sky,
    I see my cloud is further away.

    I know better than to reach out,
    My hand meets only cool reflection,
    And as my handprint disappears,
    I wonder who you are.

    Shut your eyes, cover your ears, bite your tongue,
    Hold on tight.
    Don’t let me go.

    In my house of mirrors you kissed me,
    A reflection of ‘don’t lower your chin,’
    But if I raise my tear-filled sockets,
    I see the stars coming closer.

    In the haunting of a ghost train,
    I'm caught up in your track,
    A relentless darkness,
    And my soundless, soundless scream.

    Open your eyes, uncover your ears, speak your mind,
    Loosen your grip.
    And let me go.
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    my limerick:

    there was a silly a man called ug
    who mistook his nose for a plug
    suddenly one day
    he fell in some hay
    and got to work late, got fired, and couldn't support his family anymore.
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    That depends. Do you navigate by sense of smell alone?
    If so: then, yes, they probably are, to all intents and purposes, cod.
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    If so: then, yes, they probably are, to all intents and purposes, cod.
    I am the Cod of asphalt to some people.
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    (Original post by Dreama)
    Emotional Fairground.
    Oh, goody: actual talent.
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    Oh, goody: actual talent.
    ????
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    (Original post by wiwarin_mir)
    I am the Cod of asphalt to some people.
    That must pose an intriguing (not to mention, life-threatening) dilemma.

    But I digress.
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    (Original post by Dreama)
    ????
    I approve :rolleyes:
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    (Original post by Profesh)
    Oh, goody: actual talent.
    Are you saying that none of the others poems that were entered showed talent?
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    But mine did... Don't forget that...

    Thanks Profesh
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    I have no talent
 
 
 
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