Love so pretty yesterday.

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Its too cold
The butterflies died and lay in the snow.
We're too old.
To shelter dreams of the lost tomorrow.

Bleeding innosence.
From the first kiss that meant something to absolutely no one.
We wear pretty smiles so that the self-made
matchmakers can feel like they did something.

3 months no more.

I'm such a selfish bastard
that I couldnt see the truth; you know you and me could last it.
But I felt like something new.
That feeling of abandon that I love to give to you.
I know I'm lousy with excuses but I think that one is due.

Was it easy? To believe me? Always hoping for that way home.
Familiarity will soon be the death of me.
All our friends wonder what happened to their plan.

3 months no more.
I feel like I cant bleed.
3 months no more.
Still I hear the fallen wings.
A story's not a story till you've made it up you see.
Look Mexico.




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This is REALLY good. Only some minor things to fix.
It's "innocence".
Maybe it would be better to say, "To shelter dreams of lost tomorrow"?

Otherwise, I really liked it :] GOOD JOB!
---------
"Be the change you wish to see in the world" - Mahatma Gandhi




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Wow - this is a seriously cool poem!

I'm not sure what happened to the rhyme scheme? I was really liking it!

Make sure you capitalise at the start of each line if necessary, and make sure you punctuate the end of each line, to be kind to your readers!

And it's "innocence"

Apart from that, excellent job!

Keep writing,

Pgsgirl x
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Previously known as Pgsgirl7




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The butterflies died and lay in the snow.


Yay.

But I felt like something new.
That feeling of abandon that I love to give to you.
I know I'm lousy with excuses but I think that one is due.


Yay.

Familiarity will soon be the death of me.
All our friends wonder what happened to their plan.


Double yay. That's always been one of my biggest fears; familiarity becoming the death of me. Sometimes to fight stagnation and claw your way ahead you have to give up things that you've acquired along the way that make you happy.

Good looking out.

-Barrett
"Is", "is." "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment. -Robert Anton Wilson




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This is a really well written poem, only thing that was wrong with it was that you spelt innocence wrong.
No one is perfect. we're all different in our own way




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Buttryfly line is excellent. Something once so beautiful but now nothing. Great stuff



“Writing fiction is the act of weaving a series of lies to arrive at a greater truth.”
— Khalid Hosseini, Author