don't go back.

Broken glass

Broken glass our dreams
keep thinking of the past
keep haunting me all the time
this love was meant to last

flowers aren't that pure any more
i infected anything around me
these people keep closing a door
i need to have it open to search for a kiss

heart desires dead alives
what can you say when you go back?
you find it all torn into pieces
your life isn't the same as it used to be

past, don't visit me anymore
i'll have closed my door
i keep shouting leave me alone
i really can't take it anymore

Poetry by Angel_in_disguise
Read 461 times
Written on 2006-09-17 at 16:20

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From my perspective, I would say to you that hitherto shall ye go, but no further. His fixed purpose is not the destruction, but the instruction of His people. Wisdom hangs up the thermometer at the furnace mouth, and regulates the heat. The limit is encouragingly comprehensive. The God of providence has limited the time, manner, intensity, repetition and the effects of all our sickness; each throb is decreed, each sleepless hour is predestinated, each relapse ordained, each depression of spirit foreknown, and each sanctifying result eternally purposed. Nothing great or small escapes the ordinary hand of Him who number the hairs of our head. We may well be better served when we pray that our prayer ends like Jesus in Gethsemane Garden; "Father, take this cup from me, but not my will, let Thy will be done." Your writings depict a very deep hurt and it is my prayer this day that you will soon find better and brighter tomorrows.