Every Time I Open My Eyes
Night or day
I dream of you
Dream of spending time with you too
Dream we decided to fall in love and that you'd always stay
Sometimes it makes me want to sleep all the time
What's the point of being awake
When during my dreams is when I'm happy
Because during my dreams you're here with me
I'll try to sleep for your sake
We've had the best times together these past three weeks
Even though I haven't seen you in awhile
Every night I go to sleep with a smile
But every morning, every time I wake up
I feel the depression, someone take this cup
Because every time I open my eyes I'm still alone
No matter how sweet the dream, it ends
No matter how much love my heart sends
The dreams they end and when I open my eyes I'm empty
When I open my eyes I'm still alone, I'm still me.... just me
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poem by David Knox
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Open Book's Monologue Part 4 Bookkeeping
Regular written books or a regular written novel
Could sell
But each copy would essentially be the same
And the words stagnant, unable to change, in a sense lame
Because they cannot move or rearrange
They just never change
But I guess even though I'm an open book that's where we differ
My words do change, and my past is rewritten
When my memories become hazy or hidden
Suddenly I've changed my past, said something different to her
Or him, or supposedly done an action that never did occur.
When witnesses balk and there is no vindication
Nor affirmation
It's hard to keep my memories truthfully
Call me a liar for changing them, but that's me
Bookkeeping is near impossible
Because rewriting my beginnings is possible
It's hard to remember what's fact or fiction
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poem by David Knox
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Holy Paradox
It's one of the most important things
The the kind of word that rings
In your ears, that seems to be the opposite of sense
Paradox
They seem like such nonsense
In fact I used to take offense
At their confusing nature
There appears to be no cure
For their contradicting and infectious creed
Their polluting and illogical seed
But then I realized that I've been blind
Yes blind, yes even this whole time
There was one paradox I just refused to see
One paradox that would come to define me
Holy paradox
Righteous sinner
Righteousness is the absence of sin
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poem by David Knox
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How To Take Things
How do I say what I want so that you say what you want?
I'm not sure what that is but you're holding back
I know, I can just tell...
It is not honesty you lack
But some sort of openness, you do not trust me well
I'm sure why, but you have, ore to say, and I'm here
I've always been here, here for you, but you don't hear
Me the same way I hear you, and I begin to wonder
Is the problem that I'm here? Do you want me to go away?
Because I will, even if it will tear my heart asunder
I will, I'd- I'll do it for you, unless you ask me to stay
But you haven't and something tells me you won't
I'm open, but I don't know if I can tell you this
It's different when it's love and not just friendship
It's stranger still when it's one-sided, a wistful wish,
I feel like we're at an edge right at the tip
And I want to jump to just be forgotten
The sadness is I don't think you'd pursue me
You never have, not even as a friend.. well you won
You don'; t want me so I'm gone... I know you won't
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poem by David Knox
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Do You Feel Feelings Too
I meet you... I met you
Then suddenly, erratically, irrationally, I have feelings for you
Sadly I'm not even sure the person who
You are, and you don['t know me.. so then how could you possibly have feelings for me
I'm tying to understand if just maybe there's a chance
If we have a chance
Although I'm enamored with you, how could you be interested in me?
I no longer hate myself, but in our only time together
I found myself expressing myself, expressing the darkness which lies deep within
I spout this depression, pessimism, and cynicism often, but it's truthful
That is how I felt, that is how I feel, I do not want to hide from you
But I also think what you do see of me is that part
I'd like to think I am more
I am sure I am more
I wish I could show you that
Is it too late?
Is the first impression enough to turn this love into a crush
Just another crushing crush
Is it too late, because it was never too early, because you never had feelings for me
How is it getting to know me and my darkness will 'woo' you, it is something
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poem by David Knox
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
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poem by David Knox
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God Has Such Amazing Faith
We talk about believing in God
Believing in lies believing in truth,
Being a living sacrifice, putting our full trust in something that we
Cannot even see
But man, God is the one who really has strong faith
How does such a being, full of power, trust us?
He had a legacy, He sent His only son to the world
That Son was His hope, His pride, His joy, the world's very Savior
And yet that same Son was crucified
And then He died
But through power He rose again
And gave that power, that exceeding gain
To us.
We have that Spirit
But God entrusted his legacy to mortal man
There is no evidence of the resurrection
That evidence is Jesus Himself who is seated on the throne
The Only evidence we have is the Holy Spirit
God's faith in us amazes me
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poem by David Knox
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Peer Pressure, Identity, and Acceptance
Just not fitting in
Where's those people?
Is there anyone like me?
Am I supposed to be like them?
Just not fitting in
I want acceptance they don't want me
They want me to compromise
This isn't who I am
Who am I anyways?
It's only temporary.... right?
I can't lose myself cause I'm....well I'm me
I need acceptance they're like a distant dream
They're staring right through me
They're speaking to me out of sympathy
They see through my act
They see.... no they couldn't
Who are they anyways?
I guess I'll call them..... well, they're friends
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poem by David Knox
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How Could I Tell You?
How could I tell you that this time
This rhyme
Is written just for you
When there are so many before too
About otehr girls or past love or deep scarred hurt
How can I assert
That my poetry is for you and still make it sincere
When you aren't the first one I've called my dear
Does each time I love scar my heart more?
Or will the next time give me hope like before?
I'm not sure what or who to hope for anymore
Because I don't think I'm fit for you
I've told so many others that I love them too...
Maybe only rhough poetry
But still can't you see?
It'd be hypocritical to profess
That you're my only one
So I must confess
I don't know how to say you''re my love, alas I am undone
How could I tell you how much I carre
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poem by David Knox
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Words, Reasons, Even Purposes My Dear
how beautiful it is to have a mastery of words to just be able
to talk so sophisticated at to inspire or so simple as to convey a simple fable
tis a state of being i wish to achieve
and i wish to receive more knowledge...
yet in such a quest
i may not be the best
at it or even my poetry shall i stick to prose?
by no means i dare to stay here in my rhyme
for quite some time
as i write of intrigue, purpose, and the nature of the rose
there's a reason o yes there is
why all my thoughts even intents seem to fizz
and boil over flood out of my mind and stain the page
like carefully crafted words of a pensive and amiable sage
i do not profess to be him... though i may wish it
alas but i must continue to rant about this very dark pit
sorry that i digressed, but the reason is this mission,
and the mission is my purpose and job
my mission is not only to be in submission
but also not to sob
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poem by David Knox
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