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Heathers Magical Poetry :3

Before I Post the poems (Most wont be uploaded right away haha) I just wanted to say thanks for reading! <3 I hope you enjoy my work and well, please leave your critique's and thoughts. I love hearing people's interpretations; most of my poetry comes from experiences in my own life and are (you guessed it) relative to me, but I try my best to give the world a twist and show what true art is about in my own way. I address real life issues in most of my poetry and I do try my best to let others see how I perceive the world. Anyway enough Blathering from me, Here's a poem I like to call "Youth of a Nation"

ENJOY! <3

Youth of a Nation
I am enraged.
There are people who will allow us to harm each other.
I am saddened
because no one cares enough to say a word.
I am lost.

There is nothing more in this world that I wish to see
than for us to take each other's hands
and hold on to the only thing we have.
We are the only ones who can create.
And yet, we choose to destroy.

I am confused in the ways of life.
I don't have guidance or a way to go.
But I never stop moving. To stop moving is to die.
Instantly, Compulsively, gone.
We have no future, if we choose to look away any longer.

No matter our laws, no matter our politicians.
We, as a people, Know this is wrong.
And why do we not stand up? Why!
Why don't we take the time to understand that
each and every one of us has a heart; a soul; the ability to change the world.

No one can stop you if you set your mind to it.
No one can tell you you're wrong if they have never tried it before.
No one understands that even in pain there is determination.
The select few that know how to set a goal and follow through with it,
they are, in themselves, forgotten.

Why do we not see that we are killing each other?
They may not be anything to us. They may be going against our views.
They may never even see who we are, and vice versa.
But yet, with it be words, knives, guns, gas, whatever weapons you choose,
you rip apart the very soul of another being.

It's not your child; it's not your brother.
It's not your friend or student or grandparent--
they don't even have your blood. Yet you don't think twice.
Well listen to these last words.
They are someones, someone.

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RolePlayGateway/~3/hG1U8_m1WFc/viewtopic.php

the unit bob weston david wilson bill obrien reggie mckenzie epiphany exorcism

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