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I've never felt this cold
But at the same time, I've never felt this warm...
It wasn’t the fall
That killed her...
You ruined my life
But I still care about you...
No one can see-see the blind side,
tell me the difference between the liquor of...
by Karen Bergantin Montegrande
When I hear her sing of love I wanted to cry,
When I see her reading her phone I can't help but...
I really don't know what went wrong,
I just woke up one day humming that sad song...
The saddest tears are the driest ones seen in the bravest smile.
Don't tell one who writes of grief to rethink their "I" statements. When you know they had tears on their hands as they wrote, don't say the poem could be better. You might as well say their grief could be worse.
If someone shares a poem with you that is meant to help close an open wound, they don't want your opinion. They want your hand on their shoulder, gripping it tight.