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The Little Things

*pic courtesy from pinterest  The little things the little smile the little flower in the corner aisle the little butterfly catches my eye along with  the hovering bee like sketches drawn in the sky look at the little ant fleet just close to my feet the little spider takes a warm seat the little girl who hops on the broken tile while her mother looks right across  the street from a mile I wave at her she waves back the little gestures the little fingers the little spider continues to linger the little heartbeats as humming treats while I pick up the little crumbs from my bread last night

Weeping Mad

They keep talking to your eyes
But whatever they say are just lies
While they instantly make up for your why's
As you always handle their cries
That trickle for no rhyme or reason
That juggle between temperaments independent of any season

They keep looking into you
But I am pretty sure they look through you
While they have every clue how to replace the truth
As you always get to dismantle...
Those pieces of the puzzle that prick you deep
By picking them which you cannot stop yourself but keep that one..
That finally revealed to be broken bad..
From the very beginning..
And now you are weeping mad...



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