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Thomas Conlan Feb 2015
Like the blowing breeze through nestled trees, he walks through life, dirt on his knees. A boy, now a man, finally learned how to stand, and now he flees through this forest of dreams. Alone he must walk, until he finally sees, there is no home outside these trees.

A flower, picked up off the floor, reminds him of what she once wore. She was his core, his lost Lenore, who up and left right out their door, and like this flower, plucked from the floor, she would be lost forevermore.

As he keeps on through these dying trees, he steps on their rustled leaves. Each step echoes pain and agony, unified in a bitter sweet melody. She's gone, you pushed her, what you step on, was once her.

The cold draws breath that only he can see, illusions of what was, and what could be. He carries on with a heart well led, and although he is lost, he is not quite dead. Inside his head, a demon once fed, is the reason for what he once said, "be careful where you tread, for a man made of lead cannot be made to wed". With tears in her eyes, away she fled from this man who bled blue blood. Behind masks of frosted pain, he lifts his eyes and through his breath's cold lies, he sees his love once again.

In a floral dress she dances alone. Entranced by every sway and prance, his heart joins her in leaps and bounds. Captured by her sweet, sweet sounds, he can't believe what he's just found. A second chance to love what's lost, like how the sun gently lifts the frost from the ground. The earth does come back, full round again. He has come back to her as a friend, and he will love her until the very end.
Thomas Conlan Feb 2015
My heart feels heavy,
And then it feels light.
My world is turning to the left,
And then it turns to the right.

One day I’ll be happy,
And then I’ll be sad.
Like waking up sane,
And going to bed mad.

This has to be a joke,
Or some kind of trick;
As to why I can’t relax.
I think I might be lovesick.

The world stands still
When I look in your eyes.
Eventually it’ll spin again
When we say our goodbyes.

Burning brighter than ever,
You’re the fire to my wick;
Melting me away,
I think I might be lovesick.

I’m on top of the world,
But I am falling fast.
Closer and closer to you,
But I’ll speed right past.

My heart stops for you,
Like a bomb that fails to tick.
Send me to the infirmary
Because I think I’m lovesick.

I've been to every doctor,
And they've ran every test,
Still they don’t know what
Is going on in my chest.

They say its racing back and forth,
To one pace, it won’t stick.
They say I’m losing control
Because I am lovesick.
Thomas Conlan Feb 2015
Where does love come from?

Can I see it? Can I touch it? If I lose it, where does it go?
If I have it, if I feel it, if it's real, how does it show?

If love is real, please tell me how I can make you see it.
That this feeling is the first that finally makes me feel like I fit.
Into this perfect world where I am safe from all the world's ****.
Can I show you love with rhymes and words that express wit.
Because I'm falling, and I keep falling, into love's bottomless pit.

Is love the blood rushing to my cheeks when our eyes meet?
Could love be the drive that causes my heart to beat?
Am I in love just because I am feeling this fiery heat?
Overwhelming what you do to me, without ever leaving your seat.

Love is fleeting, for it is blind.
and although it's slipping you will find,
that love will never be left behind.
It lives in you, not in your mind,
but with your soul in a bind.

Would you see my soul if I said that I loved you?
That you took my world and all that I knew
and you showed me what's false, what's true.
That the question I was looking for was what and not who?
I have been discovering what love is for the past few months thanks to an amazing person. This poem was just an attempt for me to write an answer to the many, many questions I have about the feeling of love.
Thomas Conlan Dec 2014
You are my favourite poem

Your words, like wonder, leave me wanting to know more. Words that capture me, make me see, that every sentence is a key. A key to your innermost feelings and desires. Inside each phrase your passion lights fires, and I can't get those words out of my mind.

You are my favourite poem

And every feeling, every rhyme, will surface up in time. Bubbling up from the bottom of your soul, you reach out and fill my heart-shaped hole. And at the start of every word, until your very last line, you've got me caught up in your moment in time, wishing that it could be mine.

You are my favourite poem

Where action and words are not enough, and "I love you"'s are simply poetic fluff. Your words allow me to express the emotion inside my heart and soul, creating the illusion that I am starting to feel whole. You have stolen the words from out of my mind and I find myself wondering all the time, the meanings behind your every rhyme. Then, with a sigh, I realize that I should not try to ponder why. These words, these feelings, they are not mine to own. Alone, I should create something as beautiful as you.



You are my favourite.**

You do so much for me, and you've given me so much to see. Between each blade of grass and each fallen leaf, I will think about the beauty of your soul, and I will take these moments and again feel whole. Thanks to you.
Thomas Conlan Dec 2014
She
A freezing man like me has no right to see the majesty
found within the warm and gentle sea inside those beautiful blue eyes.
Caught in your presence, I often sigh hellos and goodbyes.
I long to be a part of the world I see in your ocean blue,
and maybe if I could be so bold, you'll share this feeling too.


Yet this feeling in me lingers, as I look at your lovely fingers.
I would take a stand and hold your hand,
if I weren't afraid you'd turn to sand.
Slipping through my tender hold, I fear I'll never fit your mold,
and I will remain forever cold.


And her smile all the while has my heart in denial,
as she shines like starlight through the dark and dreary night.
And I'll try with all my might to keep her beauty in my sight,
because when she blinks I begin to sink into the reality I'm told;
I will remain forever cold.


And finally, her hair like gold reminds me who has my hold.
With a beauty like the sun, she warms my heart
and brings me back to the start.
A freezing man like me has no right to see the majesty
found within the warm and gentle sea
inside those beautiful blue eyes.
this where my heart resides,
warmed by your lovely presence.
and maybe if I could be so bold,

you can save me from the cold
Thomas Conlan Dec 2014
Love.

An idea for which I am a fool
As there is not one solid rule

Love is endless, love is blind
Inside yourself, you will find
Those who are sweet, those who are kind
Can all be equally entwined.
But our hearts are overly defined,
Made complicated by our mind.

Love cannot be captured,
just as the heart will not be fractured.
Love is free to see the world as it believes it should be.
Love is not ours to take, or to lay at mercy's sake.
Love is the reason why we lie awake,
smiling at the lives we make.
Should these bonds we build be shattered,
it is our worlds that break.

Love can move mountains.
It is the water in our fountains.
Love is anywhere you smile;
Found at every foot and mile.
Across the ocean, on every isle,
You will find love's gentle style.

Heart beating fast,
like a blast of sheer emotion,
you pray that it will last.
Cast out from reality,
you passed into a fantasy
of a world split into duality.
And although you love so much,
there is only one soul yours has touched.


And you can't stop thinking of her.


You will meet a girl who will change your world
and you will never love again.

She will change your perception,
and although you love the world,
she is your one exception.
She is your other half, another part of you.
She is your joy, your smile and laugh.
Her heart beats every time yours fleets.
Breath taken by the beauty of her soul
and for once in your life,
you feel that you are whole.
No longer is she fantasy,
and she is better than reality.
She becomes your everyday vitality
as she is fills your life with glee.

Not just one heart,
but two,
beating to synchronicity.

— The End —