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Il primo incrocia il mio sguardo,
mi fissa, gli ricordo qualcuno ma non mi riconosce.
Un po' ci rimango male, ma a pensarci bene neanche più di tanto.
Il secondo mi vede, sorride e sta per dirmi qualcosa, lo fermo in tempo con un cenno.
Non voglio che mi rivolga la parola, non voglio sentire le sue idiozie, le sue banalità, le sue formalità di rito;
non voglio avere niente a che fare con lui, è già troppo che prendo coscienza di quello che sento nei suoi confronti.
Il terzo lo guardo, ma il suo sguardo è rivolto altrove, non mi vede, non mi può vedere.
Chiamo il suo nome non troppo forte, per non disturbare né lui né gli altri.
Non mi sente.
Grido più forte, con tutta la voce che riesco a tirare fuori e ripeto il suo nome più e più volte.
Non voglio che mi dimentichi, non ci credo che si sia dimenticato di me...
Anche se è passato tanto tempo, voglio che mi riconosca e mi parli come ha sempre fatto.
Quando il vento del Sud si scontra con quello del Nord
i rami più deboli degli alberi si spezzano
poi tutto tace.
A Poem For My CreatorA poem for my creator,
Just where do I begin?
Let paper be my path in life,
My feet, they be the pen.
With footprints dressed in sin.
Each time that I have fallen,
You have raised me up again.
At times I have walked backwards,
Yet, in your heart all love abounds.
In the middle of my weeping,
You grant me higher ground.
If I could only catch a glimpse
Of the hope behind your eyes,
With focus placed on someone as lowly as me,
That even I should gain life’s prize.
If my poem unfinished be
While in this earth I rest,
I pray my words will rhyme in that
I've given you my best.
Stay Faithful!Armageddon was very close, but of course no one knew,
Brothers led their lives, without the faintest clue.
Oh they knew this was the season, the world would be done away,
They just didn't know what year, what month, week or day.
Brother John Smith, his wife Becky, children Bill and Marylou,
Were part of the great crowd that hoped to see all things made new.
When the tribulation broke out, it started like any other day,
John went to work, Becky service, children school and play.
As John was shuffling papers, a stir came from the office,
Radios and TV were turned on, it was quite a ruckus.
What was so important on this worldwide TV?
The United Nations was declaring “Peace & Security!”
John wondered “is this really it, is this the world’s fate?”
He tried to finish his work but couldn't concentrate.
So he went home and found Becky holding the children tight,
Crying in some far off way, watching the TV light.
They said: “The U.N.’s calling a coun
I Spoke to a Man TodayI spoke to a man today. He listened attentively,
I asked him about my future and my destiny,
I queried him on my prospects and dreams,
But to hopeless ears my words fell, it seems.
I spoke to a man today. He looked troubled,
As I explained how I have always struggled,
With the ideas fed to my inexperienced mind,
Of how success and how real contentment is to find.
I spoke to a man today. I was utterly frustrated,
As his eyes pierced my wits; his stare I hated,
But more, I hated his unflinching composure,
The look in his brown eyes nibbled at my closure.
I spoke to a man today. He was quite weird;
Hands held tight close to his graying beard,
His body language was silent as a mime,
Yet I felt he gave worth to the fabric of time.
I spoke to a man today. I doubt he was really there,
Although there was no monotony in his stare,
I went on to reveal my insecurities and fears,
But he provided no comfort for my needy ears.
I spoke to a man today. He spoke back to me,
Uttering each word with purp
Personal StudyThe forest floor is busy.
I climb high in a tree.
I pray to catch your spirit,
That my mind and heart may see.
In my quiver, I have brought your word high closer to the light,
To hold it up and look it through, And make sure what is right.
A small jar has no bottom,
Good oil has no end,
Flour feeds a widow,
Your word has more within.
Carefully hidden meanings
From the wicked are concealed.
Yet for those who wish to use it,
Broken bones are healed.
Your ways are so much higher.
With Your thoughts, ours can’t compare.
For those who wish to find you, In your word, you will be there.
Take NoteThese times are so tough,
Filled with great stresses,
And just keeping loyalty focused,
As Satan's authority depresses.
When anxieties are so great,
As love is replaced by hate,
In keeping ones faith strong,
So sorely we wait.
Things are going so wrong!
And life seems so haunted,
We find not many meek,
Just as the Scriptures flaunted.
So much suffering,
And violence unfurled,
No sense to these deprived actions,
Increasing in this world.
These shocking and appalling fractions,
These times Jesus foretold,
Of increasing hunger, violence and suffering,
Your neighbor's attitude so bold;
And the true faith,
By the love of money replaced,
We must keep our faith.
When everything seems so doubtful,
And situations overwhelm us,
People are so remorseful,
Our faith is what will save us.
We live at a time,
When Jehovah, God intervenes,
Completely removing violence,
And all the bad we have seen.
So lift up your heads,
Without doubt, without fear,
And be happy and get excited,
For your deliverance
An endless stream of blue
Covering the distance of the blue
Coming and going like a balloon
So calm and patient
Sailing the sea so proud
Slapping the waves so loud
Spreading the noise all around
Breaking the silence
Turns his attention to the ship
Grabs the ship by its grip
Tries pulling it to the deep
A war goes off
Tries battling the flow
Looks for the sun to glow
Pulls and pushes so slow
And war goes down
Finally overcomes the odds
Pulls the ship to its demise
Brings and end to its rise
A victor is crowned
Goes deep into the sea
Becomes the trophy of the sea
Its spender ceases to be
The pride is crushed
Made in Woman - Part I:music: http://youtu.be/BHrFEnL9CfM
"I hate the world today
You're so good to me I know but I can't change
tried to tell you but you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath, innocent and sweet"
:thumb204955178: :thumb255988542: :thumb183083351:
"Yesterday I cried
Must´ve been relieved to see the softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
all rolled into one"
:thumb251600516: :thumb215871753: :thumb217763907:
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More