i have always been left out, ever since i was little. everyone thinks its ok since i’m quiet that i won’t say anything but i’m kind of over it and maybe i’ll start saying something. i don’t want to be left over meatloaf anymore because who even likes that stuff anyway?
Not right. On the left side. Its where Its where my blanket, ipod, speakers, shirt, computer, candy wrapper are on my bed. My guitar is on the left side oof my room . Somereghbdyugoiiiiii
i left her,
the bullshit,
her cheating
her childish ways
i left my life
i left my car and my pets and my computer
i left everything i thought was going to be but never was
i left her
but came back to me
And that was it. All I had left was this crumpled piece of paper. The only thing that told of his existence. I glanced at the paper once more, tracing the wrinkles that painted the surface.
I don’t remember when he left. I just knew he was gone, never to return. I thought of him often over the years and wondered what it would be like to have a dad.
Left. No one around to help you. You’re all alone and that’s it. Abandoned. In pain and nobody cares. Everyone thinks you’re so fine but you aren’t, you’re alone, happiness is a luxary and no one understands. Left behind, from everyone else, living their happy little lives and not even caring about yours. That’s just the way it is and always has been. Being left all alone…
I have never been left. Never been left behind. Never been left out. I have always been gathered, always been loved. My family and friends are so perfect. I am so lucky. Left for me is just a direction. I wish I could make everyone feel like that. No more leaving. No more left. I wish.
I snap awake and see the truck’s headlights blazing like fire, I can feel their heat. I grab the wheel and jolt my entire body to the left along with the car, off the bridge, and I’m falling.
With only one donut left in the box, she knew what she had to do. She grabbed the nearest knife, and got to work slicing, until that one powdered donut was cut into 8 individual pieces, one for everyone on the boat.
To say Jeff was surprised was saying the least. The one person he had felt was a constant presence, the person he had perhaps foolishly, believed to always be there, who would never change, was gone. He left. He left and Jeff can barely believe it, can barely bring himself to wonder where he went. Why he didn’t say goodbye.
is there anything left to lose? anything left to choose? as a righty i’ve always wondered if creativity and genius really belonged to those who pen their songs with their left hands. i’ve tried and tried to write something good, but i’m left with nothing but what’s right.
Left. Not right. Left. I wish I was left handed. My friend is left handed. I always think that left handed people are more artsy than right handed people because the left brain is the artistic side. Go lefties!
left of center, left behind, left handed. So few people are left handed. There is a stigma. Left behind because you’re left handed, left of center because you’re left behind? Left to wonder why.
To the left, not the right. Not the right, the wrong. Everything is wrong- nothing is as it was intended to be. We are separate, distant, trying to bridge the gap. Accomplished, but only for now.
Okay. There is no way I’m seeing one peanut butter cookie — no friggin way. I bought MY peanut butter cookies because I HATE (am deeply averse) to chocolate chip cookies, which I bought for you. Leave my friggin peanut butter cookies alone, PLEASE!!!
I left my keys here I left my phone there…
Why am I always leaving important things behind?
Why cant I leave the memories of sadness?
Why cant I leave the feelings of pain?
What was left of the city? The barber, the grocer, even the little girl with the blonde barbies. All completely gone without a trace left. “I must be dreaming” I thought to myself.
What’s left? An empty coffee cup, a few receipts, several lipstick stained napkins, bread crumbs, a match book with a number, a vase with one red rose still closed, a few forks and knives, a saucer, a half-eaten piece of cake.
I want to take the left and yet something tells me to take a right. What is around the corner? What will I be missing if I take the right and not the left?
to my left was a tree, if you could call it that. It was somewhat of a pitiful sapling, having been uprooted by the wind storm. It was depressing to look at so I decided to continue on down the street.
I left her there. I don’t know what became of her. Her leg was broken, and the dead were coming. How could I be so cold? I ask myself that every moment of every day. Well, every day that I have left. I was bitten last night. I think that, in retrospect, leaving Shaila with one bullet in her gun was a far greater mercy than having to live through the next few days. Where’s my gun?
gone forever you have left me here
lost in the solitude of my dark room
i cant forget about us and all we have been through
nothing is the same without you with me
wishing you would return
i remember it clearly the day you left me
a part of me left with you
i feel incomplete and i hurt when i see you
you don’t understand how i feel and might never find out…………..
There is nothing left. not trust. not faith. there is nothing left to hold. nothing left to believe in. everything is gone, and now we just try to hold on going day by day. but i don’t believe we’ll make it. there’s nothing left.
well, darlin, you left me
well, darlin, but you took me with you too
should have left me whole or took me all but you split me
in two
this heart is all thats left of me now.
“Rise up, rise up and let us change the world. We will unite the left and right, and the centerists, and the centre lefts and the center rights, and the extreme right and the extreme left, and the liberals and the conservatives and…”
I was left to myself the day that I said I wanted to join the clan. When I wanted to be enveloped they left me to dry. I can’t help what I did after, as much as I can’t help what happened to the elders when Jessica died. An axe is just too friendly to be left alone, and so was I. The blood ran down the wall, down and to the left.
I’ve left my heart in the snow, in the books, in the music, in the words. I’ve left my heart in all the places that remind me of you. You’re the one who tore my heart from my chest, I hope you’re planning to use it for something meaningful. So, i’ll tell you now that I’ve left that heart behind, and i’ve grown a stronger one in its place.
Left, right, what’s left behind? You move forward, but you keep thinking about what you’re walking away from. Past mistakes, the best people, moment, things of your life? But sometimes, you have to keep trudging along. You’ll never make progress, you’ll never grow.
On my left is my bag having number of useless books in it which i try to but am never able to study. Left is also a direction.. On your left is the direction left :p Right’s opposite is left. Turn left and left direction also shifts with you. Nothing more’s left to right, i mean write. Time’s also not Left. Shyttt!
He had found himself one day at the train station for no other reason than that he was walking past it, hat pulled down against the mocking Bedfordshire wind. He had sat, for the longest time, on the grimy seats painted over crudely in green, recalling the ghost-vestiges of smoke; a disappearing window; a slender, waving hand.
He had left.
He left the day of winter solstice.
He left.
You know who left?
You must have seen him?
He is that one boy,
the boy with the chestnut brown hair
and the wicked smile
the one with honest eyes
with a hint of amber.
He left without a word. Just as he had entered, he and exited. I sat there, bare except for my blanket, wondering how I could get him to stay next time. Wondering what it would it take to keep him by my side. Forever.
i have always been left out, ever since i was little. everyone thinks its ok since i’m quiet that i won’t say anything but i’m kind of over it and maybe i’ll start saying something. i don’t want to be left over meatloaf anymore because who even likes that stuff anyway?
Not right. On the left side. Its where Its where my blanket, ipod, speakers, shirt, computer, candy wrapper are on my bed. My guitar is on the left side oof my room . Somereghbdyugoiiiiii
i left her,
the bullshit,
her cheating
her childish ways
i left my life
i left my car and my pets and my computer
i left everything i thought was going to be but never was
i left her
but came back to me
And that was it. All I had left was this crumpled piece of paper. The only thing that told of his existence. I glanced at the paper once more, tracing the wrinkles that painted the surface.
I don’t remember when he left. I just knew he was gone, never to return. I thought of him often over the years and wondered what it would be like to have a dad.
Left. No one around to help you. You’re all alone and that’s it. Abandoned. In pain and nobody cares. Everyone thinks you’re so fine but you aren’t, you’re alone, happiness is a luxary and no one understands. Left behind, from everyone else, living their happy little lives and not even caring about yours. That’s just the way it is and always has been. Being left all alone…
I have never been left. Never been left behind. Never been left out. I have always been gathered, always been loved. My family and friends are so perfect. I am so lucky. Left for me is just a direction. I wish I could make everyone feel like that. No more leaving. No more left. I wish.
I snap awake and see the truck’s headlights blazing like fire, I can feel their heat. I grab the wheel and jolt my entire body to the left along with the car, off the bridge, and I’m falling.
With only one donut left in the box, she knew what she had to do. She grabbed the nearest knife, and got to work slicing, until that one powdered donut was cut into 8 individual pieces, one for everyone on the boat.
To say Jeff was surprised was saying the least. The one person he had felt was a constant presence, the person he had perhaps foolishly, believed to always be there, who would never change, was gone. He left. He left and Jeff can barely believe it, can barely bring himself to wonder where he went. Why he didn’t say goodbye.
She left without another word. He didn’t deserve it.
Give God what is right, not what is left.
is there anything left to lose? anything left to choose? as a righty i’ve always wondered if creativity and genius really belonged to those who pen their songs with their left hands. i’ve tried and tried to write something good, but i’m left with nothing but what’s right.
I am a left type of person. I wright with my left hand. Walk with my left foot predominantly. I am a lefty.
An acrostic…
Lowly
Eggs
Fake
Torture
Left. Not right. Left. I wish I was left handed. My friend is left handed. I always think that left handed people are more artsy than right handed people because the left brain is the artistic side. Go lefties!
Which way to go? Left or right? I don’t know. God guide me.
left of center, left behind, left handed. So few people are left handed. There is a stigma. Left behind because you’re left handed, left of center because you’re left behind? Left to wonder why.
To the left, not the right. Not the right, the wrong. Everything is wrong- nothing is as it was intended to be. We are separate, distant, trying to bridge the gap. Accomplished, but only for now.
Okay. There is no way I’m seeing one peanut butter cookie — no friggin way. I bought MY peanut butter cookies because I HATE (am deeply averse) to chocolate chip cookies, which I bought for you. Leave my friggin peanut butter cookies alone, PLEASE!!!
I left my keys here I left my phone there…
Why am I always leaving important things behind?
Why cant I leave the memories of sadness?
Why cant I leave the feelings of pain?
All there is. Nothing else remains. We have to make do. That is our responsibility.
What was left of the city? The barber, the grocer, even the little girl with the blonde barbies. All completely gone without a trace left. “I must be dreaming” I thought to myself.
What’s left? An empty coffee cup, a few receipts, several lipstick stained napkins, bread crumbs, a match book with a number, a vase with one red rose still closed, a few forks and knives, a saucer, a half-eaten piece of cake.
He was the last one left, lying dejectedly in the corner with his head on his paws.
She came in thinking she would have her pick of the litter, but he was it.
And he was the cutest puppy she had ever seen.
“Let’s go home little buddy,” she called out to him and his head popped up.
I want to take the left and yet something tells me to take a right. What is around the corner? What will I be missing if I take the right and not the left?
to my left was a tree, if you could call it that. It was somewhat of a pitiful sapling, having been uprooted by the wind storm. It was depressing to look at so I decided to continue on down the street.
I left her there. I don’t know what became of her. Her leg was broken, and the dead were coming. How could I be so cold? I ask myself that every moment of every day. Well, every day that I have left. I was bitten last night. I think that, in retrospect, leaving Shaila with one bullet in her gun was a far greater mercy than having to live through the next few days. Where’s my gun?
gone forever you have left me here
lost in the solitude of my dark room
i cant forget about us and all we have been through
nothing is the same without you with me
wishing you would return
i remember it clearly the day you left me
a part of me left with you
i feel incomplete and i hurt when i see you
you don’t understand how i feel and might never find out…………..
There is nothing left. not trust. not faith. there is nothing left to hold. nothing left to believe in. everything is gone, and now we just try to hold on going day by day. but i don’t believe we’ll make it. there’s nothing left.
well, darlin, you left me
well, darlin, but you took me with you too
should have left me whole or took me all but you split me
in two
this heart is all thats left of me now.
never let the left hand know what you’r right hand is doing, and when you give do it in secret.
somewhere in The book of Matthew
“Rise up, rise up and let us change the world. We will unite the left and right, and the centerists, and the centre lefts and the center rights, and the extreme right and the extreme left, and the liberals and the conservatives and…”
“Oh let’s just go back to bed…”
I was left to myself the day that I said I wanted to join the clan. When I wanted to be enveloped they left me to dry. I can’t help what I did after, as much as I can’t help what happened to the elders when Jessica died. An axe is just too friendly to be left alone, and so was I. The blood ran down the wall, down and to the left.
I’ve left my heart in the snow, in the books, in the music, in the words. I’ve left my heart in all the places that remind me of you. You’re the one who tore my heart from my chest, I hope you’re planning to use it for something meaningful. So, i’ll tell you now that I’ve left that heart behind, and i’ve grown a stronger one in its place.
Left, right, what’s left behind? You move forward, but you keep thinking about what you’re walking away from. Past mistakes, the best people, moment, things of your life? But sometimes, you have to keep trudging along. You’ll never make progress, you’ll never grow.
On my left is my bag having number of useless books in it which i try to but am never able to study. Left is also a direction.. On your left is the direction left :p Right’s opposite is left. Turn left and left direction also shifts with you. Nothing more’s left to right, i mean write. Time’s also not Left. Shyttt!
He had found himself one day at the train station for no other reason than that he was walking past it, hat pulled down against the mocking Bedfordshire wind. He had sat, for the longest time, on the grimy seats painted over crudely in green, recalling the ghost-vestiges of smoke; a disappearing window; a slender, waving hand.
He had left.
He left the day of winter solstice.
He left.
You know who left?
You must have seen him?
He is that one boy,
the boy with the chestnut brown hair
and the wicked smile
the one with honest eyes
with a hint of amber.
He left without a word. Just as he had entered, he and exited. I sat there, bare except for my blanket, wondering how I could get him to stay next time. Wondering what it would it take to keep him by my side. Forever.