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I Write Poetry

To the world you were a weed,
Their looks so bitter sour,
Yet my heart saw something more,
A forever sweet and wild flower,

To the world you were a worm,
Hanging from threads set to break,
Yet I knew that you would fly,
A butterfly that's yet to wake,

To the world you were coal,
A stone scratched and scuffed,
But inside I seen you shimmer,
My own diamond in the rough,

To the world you were a rain cloud,
Your true self they cannot see,
Yet I alone saw your magic,
A beautiful rainbow yet to be,

To the world you were a spark,
But to me you were a star,
I love you for your flaws,
You're perfect just the way you are,

They always seen you as nothing,
Around you dark emptiness swirled,
Yet to me you were everything,
You were my light, my love, my world.

I was nothing before I met you,
Your betrayal my lesson learned,
Standing here without you now,
I fear to the nothing I must return.
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Portia41-45
"To the world you were my sorrow yet you became my muse" 馃檪 right?
lovingdead31-35, M
@Portia pretty much
Portia41-45
@lovingdead isn't it amazing how life makes us poets?
lovingdead31-35, M
@Portia agreed, it can come from anywhere. Mosaics of words found in both joy and pain
Portia41-45
@lovingdead throughout my life I've turned my joy and pain into poetry...it makes life seem lighter. The joy I experience through writing is immense
lovingdead31-35, M
@Portia tears can either drown you or water tomorrow's flowers
Portia41-45
Indeed @lovingdead