Bubbazden

I A small child sits still on a back porch, crying gently in the downpour.  A shadow slips by and stops to rest on the porch by the little girl.  The shadow does not speak a thing for he is barely visible.  Who would notice a silhouette in the rain? The outline that crosses the girl is the shade of death who sits with depression.  Even a day in Death’s shoes, no human could endure, for his is the hardest responsibility to bear.  Not one person has shown him a kindness in his long life.  Anything stroked by Death leaves it wilted, crumpled, and dead.  He is like an unwanted caress, quietly bringing downfall of even the most powerful in

You seem to play these tricks on me, You seem to say you care, You seem to pretend to love me, When really, you're not all there. You say you have to go, And then you stay for hours. You leave me for days, And it makes me wonder. Right now, I trust you, And you know I do. But soon, I won't, And you know that too. Don't make me doubt, It's hurts like hell. Don't make me doubt, Or it will be farewell.

Love is a universal language, Spoken and shown everywhere, In all languages. Jeg elsker dig, J'taime, te amo, ti amo, I love you, ich leibe dich. To name a few. It should be pretty easy to spot right? Wrong. How do you tell if someone truly loves you? Is it because they always say, "I Love You"? Or is it because they give you that look, Like you mean the world to them, When nobody else gets that look. Is it because you are the only one who can make them laugh, Or smile, or be happy? Or is it because they always hug you and kiss you. I think it is because they are always there for you, They can tell when you are upset, If you

--------Memories from the Moonlight--------- ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾  ❤ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ Dancing underneath the moon, Its shining touch, Remembrance of life and love, All to be forgotten, In the blink of an eye, as long as the wind whispers on my back, The howls of the night whispering softly in my ear, The memories of time gently fading, The black and white photo dusty and broken, Slowly aging as time trickles by, How many minutes go by? How many seconds have left the serenity? Will everything be forgotten? Only Time may tell... Will

I woke up outside, laying in the grass that was slightly wet from the dew that sparkled faintly from the faint light of the rising sun. Sitting up, I didn't bother to wonder where I was or how I got there, just stood up and walked to the bus. At the bus stop, no one spoke to me or even acknowledged my presence, something I found strange since I was considered a chatterbox and was usually noticed. I decided to look past this, though, and got on the bus. I looked out the window, watching the blur of colors as the bus rushed by and ignoring the fact that no one noticed me here either, even when I made the occasional attempt to start a conversa