The Game


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    The Game

    Impossible the way I feel

    Imagining that it was real

    Days from reality

    Keep changing my mind

    Losing my sense of self

    Was my only crime

    Vulnerable weak and alone

    My heart stood tall

    And hard as stone

    Embraced by invitation

    My needs were kept

    Emotionally caged as I slept

    A heart deranged fornification

    Kept me cold in my isolation

    In need of time and trust

    Captured by the burden of my wrongs

    In my thoughts played only songs

    Winter withered my mind

    Like flowers wilting with a lifeless chime

    Impatient for noble passion

    My heart was led with no collaborated reaction

    My mind could sense no shame

    But somewhere within it knew the game

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    markrohaley commented on The Game



    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    TashaGill’s Poems (29)

    Title Comments
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    Life and Fear 0
    I Hold On 1
    Freedom 0
    Facing the Past 1
    First Love Strikes Again 1
    Give it to me Straight 0
    A Thought of Love 0
    What it Takes 1
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    Some One to Dance 0
    The Game 1
    Love is War 0
    Anger 0
    Symbol of love 0
    Child of Love 0
    Imprisonment 0
    Rome 0
    Alone 0
    In my heart 0
    Dreaming 1
    Never Forever 0
    Nothing at all 0
    Life 0
    Vanity 0