I hope you're dong well. I too liked the pix and the poem.
Your Pal,
Zambo.
P.S. Sorry my late night coments aren't very clever...
On a completely unrelated note, I've been craving Hostess cupcakes in a very big way lately...What do you suppose that means? It's 1:30 am and I want cupcakes, but I should really go to bed...
I liked the pictures, the poem or words-which ever you prefer to call it, and the site. You did an excellent job! Thanks for stopping by my site, although I assume you found it through blog explosion on accident. I'll be back.
angel jr. - i can sense the personal experience behind those words...yeh you're right or course, the hardest thing of all!
Zambo - thanks, my blog is made for late night reading. Craving Hostess cupcakes? Can only mean one thing. You're pregnant. Sorry to break it to you like that - better tell the Mum ;)
Chris - I found your site through another blog I read, actually, I think Rauf -> Lorraine? And how did you know, I would call those words, not a poem. I don't mind though. I will be back to your site too, was there but didn't leave a comment a couple of days back! Next time I will...
Jeeps - *searches music folder* I had some of his music once... I'll try, thanks.
Antoine - Your poetry could only be great. Would love to hear it, genuinely!
Hi, I've stumbled onto your blog, and have to tell you how much I admire your writing. Beautiful, heartbreaking poems. I feel like I can relate to so many of them.
And why do we care? I mean, I totally know, but why do we need the other to hurt to validate our feelings? Oh, I hate being love scorned. Ouch. Lovely words, you have such a way.
14 comments:
The picture with the thorns somehow matches your poem perfectly.
Fool me once, shame on you
Fool me twice, shame on me.
Sounds very familiar to me...
The hardest thing with a broken heart, is even if it's mended, it still bears some scars.
Hey Leila.
I hope you're dong well.
I too liked the pix and the poem.
Your Pal,
Zambo.
P.S.
Sorry my late night coments aren't very clever...
On a completely unrelated note, I've been craving Hostess cupcakes in a very big way lately...What do you suppose that means?
It's 1:30 am and I want cupcakes, but I should really go to bed...
Take care out there!
I liked the pictures, the poem or words-which ever you prefer to call it, and the site. You did an excellent job! Thanks for stopping by my site, although I assume you found it through blog explosion on accident. I'll be back.
You should listen to Jeff Buckley - dunno, maybe it'll help for you, too, it did the trick for me once when i felt kinda like you do right now.
You've inspired me to consider posting my own poetry.
Prehaps I shall, one day.
thanks.
:)
walter, rockantzy - thanks
Fal - in what way??
angel jr. - i can sense the personal experience behind those words...yeh you're right or course, the hardest thing of all!
Zambo - thanks, my blog is made for late night reading. Craving Hostess cupcakes? Can only mean one thing. You're pregnant. Sorry to break it to you like that - better tell the Mum ;)
Chris - I found your site through another blog I read, actually, I think Rauf -> Lorraine? And how did you know, I would call those words, not a poem. I don't mind though. I will be back to your site too, was there but didn't leave a comment a couple of days back! Next time I will...
Jeeps - *searches music folder* I had some of his music once... I'll try, thanks.
Antoine - Your poetry could only be great. Would love to hear it, genuinely!
Hi,
I've stumbled onto your blog, and have to tell you how much I admire your writing. Beautiful, heartbreaking poems. I feel like I can relate to so many of them.
Take care,
b
Hmmm...
You may be on to something...
My belly has been getting rather large and I usually wake up feeling nauseous...
Plus, I can't even remember the last time Aunt Flo paid me a visit...
Anyway, that's all I've got right now...(I think it may have been too much).
Take care, Leila!
Your Pal,
Zambo.
And why do we care? I mean, I totally know, but why do we need the other to hurt to validate our feelings? Oh, I hate being love scorned. Ouch. Lovely words, you have such a way.
That was beautiful, kiddo. You write such poignant poems.
There is some joy in being foolish Laila and some pleasure in pain.
auburn - thank you
yes im only 17, well, 18 in a few months!
aand my name is pronounced lay-la
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