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RainJust want to stand out in the rain
Feel the water run across my arms and face
Hiding the tears I shed
Feeling my sorrows slowly wash away
See the lightning flash blindingly across the sky
Almost seeming like the pain I've endured
Hear the thunder clap
Think of all the pent up anger inside me
If only it were that easy
To just stand in the rain
And let my sorrows just drown away
If only it could be that easy
Why?Always the one being forgotten
Always the one thrown off to the side
Always the one left behind
When something better comes along
All I can wonder is why
Why is it me?
What have I done to get this?
Why can't I be accepted?
All I want is to belong
All I want is to be able to be me
All I want is for something to go right
For once in this life
I guess that's too much to ask for
Untitled...A short drive home
Yet so much to observe
Lightning blazes bright across the sky
Flashing above the low lying clouds
Mists in a graveyard
Making it feel spooky
Yet oddly calming
Mists spanning across fields and large empty lots
Sending an ominous feel to anyone who cares to see
Just before the final turn
A park off to the left
Also full of mist
With what seems to be light penetrating the misty darkness
Such a calming night to ease the stress and pain
Meh...Physical pain I feel
Although it reminds me of a wonderful night
It sends pain to other part of me
Longing to my heart
To my mind
Pain to my head
Why is it so hard to deal with my problems
Yet so easy to help friends deal with theirs?
I'll not think on it, for it just increases the pain
Where do I belong?Striving to know about old literature
Literature from the 1800s
Rather odd for someone these days
But it just feels right
Striving to understand it all
Striving to see connections
Seeing connections in myself
And similarities that haven't worked with the present
Could it be I'm in the wrong era?
Could it be I belong with the authors of then?
Could I actually fit in there?
I can't help but wonder
English Poem (Ode to The Marching Zephyr Band)About 50 people on the huge field
It feels like a dream
To be in this massive stadium
At the head of the final form
3 months of hard work
And it all has paid off
8 minutes of time
That was solely ours
The Marching Zephyr Band
With all the benefits
And all the lessons
It was all entirely worth it
The work had been hard
But we had made it
The hard work had paid off
And the rewards had been seen
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More