Attached At the Hip

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    Attached At the Hip

    Pain is my personal springtime, bringing subtle change.
    It loves me... though I can never love it back.
    Pain reaches out to me when I am up.
    And smiles down on me when I'm not.
    Pain knows everyone I know, even my myspace friends.
    I admit to being selfish trying to keep pain all to myself.
    But it refuses to be held down, has too much pride.
    Pain comes and goes as it pleases like an ex with a spare key.
    I want to tell it to skedaddle, but I fear what it may do to me.
    I wish that no one knows a Pain like mine, yet I know this can't be true.
    Pain always has someone it can introduce itself to.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    oneshot’s Poems (12)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Lambada 2
    Recession 0
    That Guy 2
    Leak 1
    Just Because 0
    Attached At the Hip 0
    The Other Woman 2
    The Price 0
    My Trouble 0
    If not you, than Who... 0
    Hoods Partiot 0
    We're still losing 1