<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539</id><updated>2012-01-25T05:00:11.575Z</updated><category term='marriage'/><category term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love @SoftPoetry</title><subtitle type='html'>Love, heartache, desire and limerence.
@&lt;a href="http://softpoetry.com"&gt;SoftPoetry.com&lt;/a&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7983192510393785256</id><published>2012-01-22T00:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-22T03:20:34.609Z</updated><title type='text'>The Center of the Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;When I get close to you,&lt;br /&gt;you move away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You call me obsessive,&lt;br /&gt;you call me self-centered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you get close to me,&lt;br /&gt;I move away from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You call me a hypocrite,&lt;br /&gt;you call me selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is how our universe works.&lt;br /&gt;That's how the universe works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seventeen billion years ago, the universe came into existance.&lt;br /&gt;Seventeen billion years later, it's grown and still grows.&lt;br /&gt;We are all part of its uniformed expansion,&lt;br /&gt;distancing us evenly through time and space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you're right. When you call me self-centered.&lt;br /&gt;With all the stars in time and space,&lt;br /&gt;expanding evenly away from me.&lt;br /&gt;I am the center of the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like you are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i0TmNvhDLhU/Txte8RQM7jI/AAAAAAAAALI/vPZxQZ3A-Bk/s1600/TheCenter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="199" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i0TmNvhDLhU/Txte8RQM7jI/AAAAAAAAALI/vPZxQZ3A-Bk/s320/TheCenter.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;References&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spitzer.caltech.edu/video-audio/664-ask2009-001-Where-Is-the-Center-of-the-Universe-"&gt;http://www.spitzer.caltech.edu/video-audio/664-ask2009-001-Where-Is-the-Center-of-the-Universe-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://siriusori.deviantart.com/art/Center-of-the-Universe-96537346?q=boost%3Apopular%20center%20of%20the%20universe&amp;amp;qo=85%20" target="_blank"&gt;http://siriusori.deviantart.com/art/Center-of-the-Universe-96537346?q=boost%3Apopular%20center%20of%20the%20universe&amp;amp;qo=85 &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.exploratorium.edu/hubble/tools/center.html"&gt;http://www.exploratorium.edu/hubble/tools/center.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zo9tSUVTANo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zo9tSUVTANo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eI5f4YMArs%20" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eI5f4YMArs &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7983192510393785256?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7983192510393785256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2012/01/center-of-universe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7983192510393785256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7983192510393785256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2012/01/center-of-universe.html' title='The Center of the Universe'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i0TmNvhDLhU/Txte8RQM7jI/AAAAAAAAALI/vPZxQZ3A-Bk/s72-c/TheCenter.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-3744727074052606115</id><published>2012-01-15T19:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-15T19:36:14.521Z</updated><title type='text'>The Morality of Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;You live your life aspiring to be reckless.&lt;br /&gt;You try justify it by saying you have male ethics.&lt;br /&gt;That you're more manly than most guys you meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let me tell you something.&lt;br /&gt;Men LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;Men OBSESS.&lt;br /&gt;Men DESIRE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ethics of cheaters on the other hand.&lt;br /&gt;They string as many people along for the ride as they can. &lt;br /&gt;They spread themselves thin, to stop themselves from becoming attached.&lt;br /&gt;To be in a position whereby everyone is replaceable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While you're so quick to accuse the media of political misinformation.&lt;br /&gt;You ignore that the media are the ones who also portray the morality of men.&lt;br /&gt;You ignore that the media are the ones who also portray the morality of women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead you say you're rebelling from their stereotype,&lt;br /&gt;that you won't be trapped,&lt;br /&gt;that you won't be tamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for someone to tame.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for someone to fix.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for someone to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking for someone to learn from.&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking for someone to grow towards.&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking for someone to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fw8FwjPkn4w/TxMhX2O8qXI/AAAAAAAAAK4/LHg4pZ9RaJE/s1600/Real+Love.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fw8FwjPkn4w/TxMhX2O8qXI/AAAAAAAAAK4/LHg4pZ9RaJE/s320/Real+Love.png" width="274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-3744727074052606115?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/3744727074052606115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2012/01/morality-of-men.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3744727074052606115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3744727074052606115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2012/01/morality-of-men.html' title='The Morality of Men'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fw8FwjPkn4w/TxMhX2O8qXI/AAAAAAAAAK4/LHg4pZ9RaJE/s72-c/Real+Love.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-8899124553917299528</id><published>2011-12-31T02:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-01-01T07:46:23.218Z</updated><title type='text'>A little bit stupid</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I'm not a stupid person by default, I'm actually prettyclever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;In primary school, all the kids would call me a boffin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Back then, I remember having a discussion about it with myolder brother,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;we decided that a boffin was an Owl type creature with a quiff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ok, maybe I was a little stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Along the years I've met smarter people than me, and ofcourse stupider.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;One day, I met a really stupid girl, she was so stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Really stupid. Her life was so messed up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, academically she was smart,&lt;br /&gt;but her social interactionswith humans was naive at best..&lt;br /&gt;Or manipulative, who knows?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, being the smart person I am,&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I wouldfall in love with her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of course it never worked out, it never does.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I tend to still think about her, I tend to still miss her,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;but now, whenever I do, I just act a little bit stupid,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;and I start to feel her with me again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGsf01_ephY/Tv5vml24TqI/AAAAAAAAAKw/TUmMDb8i_m4/s320/Boys_Are_Dumb_by_SixSeasons.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sixseasons.deviantart.com/art/Boys-Are-Dumb-18050454?q=boost%3Apopular%20dumb%20girl&amp;amp;qo=115" target="_blank"&gt;Source&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-8899124553917299528?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/8899124553917299528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/12/little-bit-stupid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/8899124553917299528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/8899124553917299528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/12/little-bit-stupid.html' title='A little bit stupid'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GGsf01_ephY/Tv5vml24TqI/AAAAAAAAAKw/TUmMDb8i_m4/s72-c/Boys_Are_Dumb_by_SixSeasons.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-1633161475516421535</id><published>2011-12-29T17:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-12-29T17:45:55.383Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Top 10 Reasons to get Married</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;#10: Free waxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9: Get to dress up in animal costumes and hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8: Someone to talk to about all your dreams and ambition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7: Wedding gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6: Get to wear a wedding ring to disprove rumours of your homosexuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5: Nagging is a good tool distract yourself from work related stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4: Lowers the premium on your car insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3: It's like halal gambling, if your partner gets rich, you can claim half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2: Reason to move out of your moms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1: Have a scapegoat for why your dreams and ambitions never come to fruition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/headovmetal/ohHAsFiwBvvHucEHaBIjrlDrhAeeoddcCbhhAyHttosAbHIDCupqIBtnHjbz/media_http24mediatumb_exGGn.jpg.scaled500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/headovmetal/ohHAsFiwBvvHucEHaBIjrlDrhAeeoddcCbhhAyHttosAbHIDCupqIBtnHjbz/media_http24mediatumb_exGGn.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="303" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-1633161475516421535?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/1633161475516421535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/12/top-10-reasons-to-get-married.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1633161475516421535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1633161475516421535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/12/top-10-reasons-to-get-married.html' title='Top 10 Reasons to get Married'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-2951407188722250832</id><published>2011-04-25T15:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T14:08:48.918+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>To Forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I've always believed that if I can't remember something.&lt;br /&gt;It must of not been important enough for me to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember what I did last year, or even last week.&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember how I've gotten so old, so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember how I felt, when I first met you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always forget things.&lt;br /&gt;You always tell me that I forget things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget to ask you if you're feeling better, when you're ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget that I just asked you if you were ok,&lt;br /&gt;when you just said that you were ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget to listen to the stories that you tell me,&lt;br /&gt;while I appreciate listening to the stories that you tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget the creases on your face, &lt;br /&gt;as they appear only when you smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget the coldness of your hands,&lt;br /&gt;when all I want to do is keep them warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget when you put your arms around my arm,&lt;br /&gt;I don't ever want you to let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember when I started liking you.&lt;br /&gt;I just remember thinking, that you're the most likable girl I'll ever meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://niienna.deviantart.com/art/Arm-hug-177649083" target="_blank" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="248" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6wuMiIPTBso/TbWGGHXjpDI/AAAAAAAAADc/qUViAC78tR4/s320/ScreenShot002.png" width="172" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #dedede; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forget how long it's been since I last saw you.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps one day, I'll remember to forget you too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-2951407188722250832?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/2951407188722250832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/to-forget.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/2951407188722250832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/2951407188722250832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/to-forget.html' title='To Forget'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6wuMiIPTBso/TbWGGHXjpDI/AAAAAAAAADc/qUViAC78tR4/s72-c/ScreenShot002.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-3921348915824202228</id><published>2011-04-23T17:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T17:46:01.646+01:00</updated><title type='text'>How To Catch The Bouquet</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://howtocatchthebouquet.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://howtocatchthebouquet.com/images/heading.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click to visit&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #dedede; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dedicated to my beautiful sister and her husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-3921348915824202228?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/3921348915824202228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/how-to-catch-bouquet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3921348915824202228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3921348915824202228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/how-to-catch-bouquet.html' title='How To Catch The Bouquet'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-2467663788090329735</id><published>2011-04-03T18:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T19:16:08.215+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My Highlight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You are the highlight of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are the highlight of my days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My months, my years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My hours, my minutes, my seconds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With you, I could finally breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With you, I could finally be at ease.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not alive when I'm not with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are what the world was made for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Together we made the world smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't wait to see you again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's nothing I could want more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Than to see you again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wIz3n1OYhQY/TZi5WGF0BDI/AAAAAAAAARk/mBnLvrslMjk/s1600/197349_10150121336421547_506556546_6549699_4346166_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wIz3n1OYhQY/TZi5WGF0BDI/AAAAAAAAARk/mBnLvrslMjk/s320/197349_10150121336421547_506556546_6549699_4346166_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591422726623724594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-2467663788090329735?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/2467663788090329735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/my-highlight.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/2467663788090329735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/2467663788090329735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2011/04/my-highlight.html' title='My Highlight'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wIz3n1OYhQY/TZi5WGF0BDI/AAAAAAAAARk/mBnLvrslMjk/s72-c/197349_10150121336421547_506556546_6549699_4346166_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-1042629580392476860</id><published>2010-12-20T19:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-22T06:23:33.303Z</updated><title type='text'>A Winter's Warmth</title><content type='html'>I glisten through your silhoutte,&lt;br /&gt;then trickle down your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I echo through to the surface,&lt;br /&gt;only to resonate in your wake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've travelled across the brightest stars,&lt;br /&gt;that sparkle in the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has spanned a thousand years,&lt;br /&gt;and in my dreams it's given you warmth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my dreams are empty promises,&lt;br /&gt;as the frost of the winter dawns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get so cold this time of year,&lt;br /&gt;and there is nothing I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has spanned a thousand years,&lt;br /&gt;but I only live one heartbeat with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You belong inside his arms,&lt;br /&gt;they were made to keep you warm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were forged from love and friendship,&lt;br /&gt;while mine were made to bring the light to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TQ-xQ42MoAI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ppZKv2nAOds/s1600/ScreenShot002.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="216" width="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TQ-xQ42MoAI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ppZKv2nAOds/s320/ScreenShot002.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-1042629580392476860?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/1042629580392476860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/12/winters-warmth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1042629580392476860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1042629580392476860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/12/winters-warmth.html' title='A Winter&apos;s Warmth'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TQ-xQ42MoAI/AAAAAAAAAB8/ppZKv2nAOds/s72-c/ScreenShot002.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-4239403880174627740</id><published>2010-11-04T03:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-12-20T19:49:28.281Z</updated><title type='text'>Dear You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;Dear You,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I've heard some things from other people. Crazy things. Plausible things. &amp;nbsp;And, while I don't want to believe them to be true. I have to be honest with myself and admit that I have been selfish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;I don't think I would have wanted anything more from this world, than to see you on Christmas day. To be by your side, as the clock turns to midnight and celebrate a new year with you. To spend Valentine’s day cherishing you. To be able to share everything this world has to offer with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;That would be selfish of me. You deserve someone you truly care for. Someone that drives you crazy. Someone that can provide for you. Someone that you can fall in love with, and not have to settle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;Right now, I have an OCD for you that needs treatment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;So t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;he days will go by and I will still care about you, as I do today. I will still want the best for you, as I do today. And, I will still hope that one day we can be friends, as we were yesterday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Your addict.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TNItTH9aw0I/AAAAAAAAABU/rCN9Qf_WYMk/s1600/ScreenShot001.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="102" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TNItTH9aw0I/AAAAAAAAABU/rCN9Qf_WYMk/s320/ScreenShot001.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-4239403880174627740?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/4239403880174627740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/11/dear-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/4239403880174627740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/4239403880174627740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/11/dear-you.html' title='Dear You'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TNItTH9aw0I/AAAAAAAAABU/rCN9Qf_WYMk/s72-c/ScreenShot001.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7992602682252851210</id><published>2010-10-24T21:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T03:13:00.715+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Aspirin</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;One day I met a pill and asked for its name,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;it told me it of its powers,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;to take away, all my pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;It functioned by blocking COX enzymes,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;oh beautiful Aspirin, you're blowing my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I take you on Mondays, Tuesdays the same,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;because work always gets me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;wrecking my brain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Large doses of you make me dizzy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;but I don't care,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;You make my mouth go all fizzy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;please don't scare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;There have been times when I needed you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;and you're not there.&lt;br /&gt;I'd run to the pharmacy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;and cheat on you there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Ibuprofin, Co-Codamol, they're not the same,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;you're the only one who makes me happy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;when I'm going insaine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Oh Aspirin please love me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;like I love you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I dream to hold you in my arms,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;even dedicate my facebook status for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TMSVr2IabxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/OW1m7SISabI/s1600/aspirin23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="140" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TMSVr2IabxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/OW1m7SISabI/s320/aspirin23.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7992602682252851210?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7992602682252851210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/10/asprin.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7992602682252851210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7992602682252851210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/10/asprin.html' title='Aspirin'/><author><name>Ash Cairo</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-SZUQAA8CP5w/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/u63CljthmX4/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8_3RWQXfd-4/TMSVr2IabxI/AAAAAAAAABQ/OW1m7SISabI/s72-c/aspirin23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-1168224032586157499</id><published>2010-06-27T13:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T02:00:49.946+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pretender</title><content type='html'>Why are you acting so weird?&lt;br /&gt;- I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you are, you're really creeping me out.&lt;br /&gt;- How?&lt;br /&gt;You're never nice to me, why are you being nice?&lt;br /&gt;- So I'm not allowed to be nice?&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Can't we just pretend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that I'm not me and you're not you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that the person sitting next to you, likes sitting next to you.&lt;br /&gt;Even if he has nothing to say, he just likes being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that when you're not there, he spends more time thinking about you,&lt;br /&gt;than he thinks he should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that though you mightn't like the sound of your own voice,&lt;br /&gt;it provides him with a familiarity that makes him smile inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that the longer he dares himself to glance at your face,&lt;br /&gt;the more afraid he becomes of you catching his gaze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that though he would never tell you, he gets lost inside your adorable eyes,&lt;br /&gt;whenever he accidentally pretends to look past them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that he can think of so many reasons why he shouldn't feel this way,&lt;br /&gt;and pretend that he can think of many more reasons why he should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe pretend that he is usually the crazy one, but when he's around you,&lt;br /&gt;he doesn't feel so crazy any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that all this time, all he's ever tried to do, was to help you find happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend that all this time, all he's ever wanted to do, was to lean his head on your shoulder,&lt;br /&gt;and perhaps cuddle on your arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/TCjgd9chRWI/AAAAAAAAAQA/S8Qq_q4srOs/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-06-28+at+18.47.50.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/TCjgd9chRWI/AAAAAAAAAQA/S8Qq_q4srOs/s320/Screen+shot+2010-06-28+at+18.47.50.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487882951265961314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;"I just feel comfortable around you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-1168224032586157499?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/1168224032586157499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/06/pretender.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1168224032586157499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/1168224032586157499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/06/pretender.html' title='The Pretender'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/TCjgd9chRWI/AAAAAAAAAQA/S8Qq_q4srOs/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-06-28+at+18.47.50.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7691284330101399951</id><published>2010-03-28T19:51:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T19:58:13.238+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello?</title><content type='html'>Are you here? Can I talk to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you? I just wanted to tell you something.&lt;br /&gt;Look it's a little bit embarrassing for me.&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm just like affected by other cultures, that's why I'm always straight in what I want tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I'm not going to see you that's why I have the courage for this.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I want to thank you for a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;Things you did, but you did not notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just feel like I liked you from the first time I saw you, even before I knew much about you.&lt;br /&gt;Before even seeing you, I thought that after all these years, I got back my chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy that I won you over.&lt;br /&gt;Even as a sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to thank you for a lot of things, the last few days were the most confusing and the worst I've ever had. I thought that people were the same, people were the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you, you changed my point of view, really, you were so friendly to me.&lt;br /&gt;You didn't misunderstand me like a lot of people.&lt;br /&gt;You didn't take advantage of me like a lot of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S6-lUoWbbuI/AAAAAAAAAPo/S5KHI5Mirqc/s1600/ScreenShot002.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S6-lUoWbbuI/AAAAAAAAAPo/S5KHI5Mirqc/s320/ScreenShot002.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453759447616417506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Backstory&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody wants to be with someone who falls all over them, it's tacky and makes the person feel that they could do better."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7691284330101399951?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7691284330101399951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/03/hello.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7691284330101399951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7691284330101399951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/03/hello.html' title='Hello?'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S6-lUoWbbuI/AAAAAAAAAPo/S5KHI5Mirqc/s72-c/ScreenShot002.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7986892499227373756</id><published>2010-01-25T00:38:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-25T00:45:23.737Z</updated><title type='text'>Use me</title><content type='html'>You use me for my wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;You use me for my intellect.&lt;br /&gt;Use me now, before I expire.&lt;br /&gt;Visiting bones, here and hired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me that I am wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me that I am grand.&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that I may fail to see,&lt;br /&gt;I'm nothing without your hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll wait for you 'til morning.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll wait for you until night.&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait and wait, until you're here.&lt;br /&gt;The witchery of your plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S1zoGCGsgII/AAAAAAAAAJg/77HjEwYzgCk/s1600-h/UseMe.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S1zoGCGsgII/AAAAAAAAAJg/77HjEwYzgCk/s320/UseMe.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430470441043787906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you even ever care?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7986892499227373756?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7986892499227373756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/01/use-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7986892499227373756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7986892499227373756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2010/01/use-me.html' title='Use me'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/S1zoGCGsgII/AAAAAAAAAJg/77HjEwYzgCk/s72-c/UseMe.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7911014968324411754</id><published>2009-12-26T02:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-26T02:27:08.597Z</updated><title type='text'>An urban night sky</title><content type='html'>I was feeling so confused. It didn't make sense, how could it? After trying so hard to not think of her in that way, the feelings didn't suddenly come flooding back. Not knowing what to do or say, I patently waited. Monday came, I finished work and headed to the party, she would be there. Visions of a starry night sky unfolded in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to arrive late to make sure she'd be there when I arrived. After brainwashing myself to not think about her, she was the only thing I could now think of. I didn't know if it was a good or bad thing? I mean, will it always be like this? Will I always grow strong, only to be sliced back down to my knees at a moments notice. I didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I greeted my friends and saw her standing there, she was beautiful, a humbling kind of beauty. It's one thing to train your eyes to shift away and not notice, but it's another to let them slowly linger and admire. I chose to not look away, I chose to take in as much as this moment as I could, be it for the good or bad. I went up to her and she greeted me with a smile. “Hey”, “Hi”, I stared into her eyes as she looked back at mine, I was so confused, but I tried to remain strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was around us, but I couldn't care anymore, she was special. As the night drew to a close, I softly asked her “Would you like to go for a walk?”, she knew what I wanted to talk about, somehow we managed to convince everyone not to notice and we got out of there as fast as possible. It felt weird, we didn't really say much as we walked through the heart of London. The night time scenery was vivid, the view of the river, the towering metropolitan landscape, the historic backdrops, London was beautiful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I offered her a seat as we came to an empty bench, I looked up and for once, I could see past the chaotic urban atmosphere into the starry night sky. There were people queuing near us for a late night boat trip as we both sat there. I said to her “So, what did you mean the other day?”. She hesitated, so I turned to her and crossed my legs to face her. She looked like home, she had the most beautiful of eyes. I turned my hands around and pulled her fingers into mine, and asked, “Has something changed?”, she slowly nodded and found the courage to smile and slowly whisper to me “do you still..”. My mind froze as I tried so hard not to think, not to breath, not to leave this moment. I fluttered my eyelids and said “I have something for you”, and turned to my shoulder bag, unclipped the buckels and lifted open the flap. “Close your eyes”, she did, I pulled out two roses and smiled. She smelled them in as she opened her eyes slowly, tears started flowing down her pillowy cheeks. She looked up at me with her watery eyes, they were glowing in the night light and tears started flowing down my eyes. I pulled her towards me with both my arms and promised to myself that I would never let her go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzVxyNE1fLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/hpTijKS6IY8/s1600-h/ScreenShot001.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 183px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzVxyNE1fLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/hpTijKS6IY8/s320/ScreenShot001.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419362833927601330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we feel things, in time, we pretend to never have felt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7911014968324411754?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7911014968324411754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/12/urban-nght-sky.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7911014968324411754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7911014968324411754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/12/urban-nght-sky.html' title='An urban night sky'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzVxyNE1fLI/AAAAAAAAAIc/hpTijKS6IY8/s72-c/ScreenShot001.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-3366692682582503216</id><published>2009-11-11T23:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-26T02:55:40.808Z</updated><title type='text'>My biggest regret</title><content type='html'>Over the years, I've pictured myself with a few girls,&lt;br /&gt;not many, just a few, and sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look back I will have regrets,&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret how one was so attractive,&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret not desiring her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret how one was so sweet and adorable,&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret not persuing her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret how one was so funny and cute,&lt;br /&gt;I'll regret not giving her a chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, out of all the regrets I could possibly have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I couldn't be there to cheer you up when you were down.&lt;br /&gt;If I couldn't be there to see your face light up when you were happy.&lt;br /&gt;If I couldn't be there to hold you in the coldest nights.&lt;br /&gt;If I couldn't be there to learn and share the beauties of this world with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then no regret could compare to the regret I'd feel,&lt;br /&gt;if I couldn't be there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SvtPBjI5qxI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/OtgkK2Y3F8Q/s1600-h/IMG_0675.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SvtPBjI5qxI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/OtgkK2Y3F8Q/s320/IMG_0675.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402999065992080146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He travelled 2282 miles to tell his love,&lt;br /&gt;how much she meant to him, on her birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-3366692682582503216?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/3366692682582503216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/11/my-biggest-regret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3366692682582503216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3366692682582503216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/11/my-biggest-regret.html' title='My biggest regret'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SvtPBjI5qxI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/OtgkK2Y3F8Q/s72-c/IMG_0675.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-5485173774319234612</id><published>2009-10-13T14:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T15:15:36.129Z</updated><title type='text'>The Sweetest Dentist</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://softpoetry.com/prototypes/sweetestdentist/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://softpoetry.com/prototypes/sweetestdentist/images/01.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click to visit&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #dedede; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved a girl who wanted a man with good teeth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-5485173774319234612?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/5485173774319234612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/10/sweetest-dentist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/5485173774319234612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/5485173774319234612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/10/sweetest-dentist.html' title='The Sweetest Dentist'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7003952740150276171</id><published>2009-10-04T08:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:35:29.478+01:00</updated><title type='text'>How we fell in and out of love</title><content type='html'>A story of a love, like no other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMcfD8nwI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pAm3XR2Gi08/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMcfD8nwI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pAm3XR2Gi08/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641006406901506" border="0" /&gt;She was the girl next door&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMcozJi0I/AAAAAAAAAGA/dP3-72qSOt4/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMcozJi0I/AAAAAAAAAGA/dP3-72qSOt4/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641009020799810" border="0" /&gt;Our first kiss&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMdN0wJCI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Go1Pg5QdTwg/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMdN0wJCI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Go1Pg5QdTwg/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641018959635490" border="0" /&gt;Our first make our session&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMdcAMmxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/juar5DWMzIY/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMdcAMmxI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/juar5DWMzIY/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641022765734674" border="0" /&gt;She grew up fast&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMd-ZMdmI/AAAAAAAAAGY/s8V0iPvR7xU/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMd-ZMdmI/AAAAAAAAAGY/s8V0iPvR7xU/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641031997388386" border="0" /&gt;I tried to play hard to get&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMmeAA3bI/AAAAAAAAAGg/PHDn64mZWeA/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMmeAA3bI/AAAAAAAAAGg/PHDn64mZWeA/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641177920658866" border="0" /&gt;How I asked her out&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMmkFFIoI/AAAAAAAAAGo/znVgCEZCs08/s1600-h/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMmkFFIoI/AAAAAAAAAGo/znVgCEZCs08/s320/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641179552522882" border="0" /&gt;When she started hanging with the wrong crowd&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMm9P4mrI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Rb3lwhaIiV8/s1600-h/8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMm9P4mrI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Rb3lwhaIiV8/s320/8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641186308725426" border="0" /&gt;She styled her hair differently that day&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMnYhZJEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ShmqCmSmQLc/s1600-h/9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMnYhZJEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ShmqCmSmQLc/s320/9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641193629918274" border="0" /&gt;She said I drove her crazy&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMnj33AVI/AAAAAAAAAHA/JC0VaNDOZVw/s1600-h/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMnj33AVI/AAAAAAAAAHA/JC0VaNDOZVw/s320/10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641196676940114" border="0" /&gt;She started wearing contacts&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM1T4N9fI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rxmLfchHboo/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM1T4N9fI/AAAAAAAAAHI/rxmLfchHboo/s320/11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641432901645810" border="0" /&gt;She started wearing braces&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM15JohAI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Nc7NnqfNuZE/s1600-h/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM15JohAI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Nc7NnqfNuZE/s320/12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641442906801154" border="0" /&gt;Back off! She's mine!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM2CONZYI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yAJ1Np8Ikws/s1600-h/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM2CONZYI/AAAAAAAAAHY/yAJ1Np8Ikws/s320/13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641445341914498" border="0" /&gt;Our first fight&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM2T05r5I/AAAAAAAAAHg/bR6dU18UgL0/s1600-h/14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM2T05r5I/AAAAAAAAAHg/bR6dU18UgL0/s320/14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641450067603346" border="0" /&gt;Our friends would all make fun of us,&lt;br /&gt;and we'll just laugh along because we know,&lt;br /&gt;that none of them have felt this way.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM21q3GBI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wBHhDG_6meg/s1600-h/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM21q3GBI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wBHhDG_6meg/s320/15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641459152295954" border="0" /&gt;She started going to the gym more and more often&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM97NaQZI/AAAAAAAAAHw/NwsVX4Q9N8w/s1600-h/16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM97NaQZI/AAAAAAAAAHw/NwsVX4Q9N8w/s320/16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641580898468242" border="0" /&gt;One time she smoked a little too much shisha.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM-JnN14I/AAAAAAAAAH4/CA9FPJN9KtY/s1600-h/17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM-JnN14I/AAAAAAAAAH4/CA9FPJN9KtY/s320/17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641584764802946" border="0" /&gt;She started to develop tunnel vision and only see things her way.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM-fKvV5I/AAAAAAAAAIA/fhH2s4gCHyE/s1600-h/18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshM-fKvV5I/AAAAAAAAAIA/fhH2s4gCHyE/s320/18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388641590550943634" border="0" /&gt;The one person I thought would never change, changed :(&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He drew his love on the white board at work, but as time went by, his jelous workmates would change her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7003952740150276171?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7003952740150276171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/10/how-we-fell-in-and-out-of-love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7003952740150276171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7003952740150276171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/10/how-we-fell-in-and-out-of-love.html' title='How we fell in and out of love'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SshMcfD8nwI/AAAAAAAAAF4/pAm3XR2Gi08/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-3226300113542165256</id><published>2009-09-26T15:05:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:33:40.073+01:00</updated><title type='text'>If you like to dream, you love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Sr4fubA1faI/AAAAAAAAAFw/B3ij-K_Yszw/s1600-h/Dream+%3D+Love.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 139px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Sr4fubA1faI/AAAAAAAAAFw/B3ij-K_Yszw/s320/Dream+%3D+Love.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385777086767398306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics from the song; Manu Chao - Me gustas tu, translated by Google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinyurl.com/yacqkyq" onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;http://tinyurl.com/yacqkyq&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-3226300113542165256?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/3226300113542165256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/if-you-like-to-dream-you-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3226300113542165256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/3226300113542165256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/if-you-like-to-dream-you-love.html' title='If you like to dream, you love'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Sr4fubA1faI/AAAAAAAAAFw/B3ij-K_Yszw/s72-c/Dream+%3D+Love.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-543661975691422078</id><published>2009-09-25T00:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:33:46.037+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll wait for you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Without you, everything else is just ordinary..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I don't know, I'm not ready,&lt;br /&gt;I haven't planned for this..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll wait for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 22,&lt;br /&gt;and graduate university with honours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 23,&lt;br /&gt;and move to another country, like you've always wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 24,&lt;br /&gt;and settle into your first real job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 25,&lt;br /&gt;and adopt a cute little kitten to compliment your maternal instincts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 26,&lt;br /&gt;and get that big promotion you deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 27,&lt;br /&gt;and buy that car you've always dreamed of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 28,&lt;br /&gt;and decide to take a gap year to go explore the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until you're 29,&lt;br /&gt;and blossom into an elegant lady, adored by your little nieces and nephews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll wait for you until forever,&lt;br /&gt;and I'll wait and I'll wait and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll wait..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrwNUZuhFOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/IA1fElEi7mE/s1600-h/I%27ll+Wait.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 167px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrwNUZuhFOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/IA1fElEi7mE/s320/I%27ll+Wait.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385193898582807778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He confessed his feelings to his love,&lt;br /&gt;and as she broke his heart,&lt;br /&gt;he promised himself,&lt;br /&gt;that he'd wait for her forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-543661975691422078?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/543661975691422078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/ill-wait-for-you.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/543661975691422078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/543661975691422078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/ill-wait-for-you.html' title='I&apos;ll wait for you'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrwNUZuhFOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/IA1fElEi7mE/s72-c/I%27ll+Wait.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7559546540885959002</id><published>2009-09-21T13:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:33:53.155+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ocean of stars</title><content type='html'>I dream about our two faces gravitating towards each other,&lt;br /&gt;as they slide past one another, &lt;br /&gt;my unkempt stubble tickling your smooth soft pillowy cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I whisper into your ears; you are my everything,&lt;br /&gt;as I find the courage to slide my lips unto your forehead,&lt;br /&gt;and pause for a moment before gently connecting for a lasting impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pull your left hand towards mine, &lt;br /&gt;close my eyes and kiss it tenderly,&lt;br /&gt;filling the right with a silenced envy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's jealousy should not grow,&lt;br /&gt;because I dream about guiding you down stairwells,&lt;br /&gt;hand in hand, &lt;br /&gt;leaning with you on railings,&lt;br /&gt;as we watch the sunset turn into an ocean of stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream about grasping you into my arms, and patiently wondering,&lt;br /&gt;will I ever have the strength to un-part them, and let you go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Srd0dDvW5FI/AAAAAAAAAEE/euwAjypQtgU/s1600-h/Love_of_a_lion_by_WhiteRaven4+(Custom).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 121px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Srd0dDvW5FI/AAAAAAAAAEE/euwAjypQtgU/s320/Love_of_a_lion_by_WhiteRaven4+(Custom).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383899922113684562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He woke up in the morning after dreaming about his love,&lt;br /&gt;and this passage just flowed through his mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7559546540885959002?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7559546540885959002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/ocean-of-stars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7559546540885959002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7559546540885959002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/ocean-of-stars.html' title='Ocean of stars'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/Srd0dDvW5FI/AAAAAAAAAEE/euwAjypQtgU/s72-c/Love_of_a_lion_by_WhiteRaven4+(Custom).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-8999082411612063717</id><published>2009-09-16T13:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:33:58.114+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Her empty smile</title><content type='html'>When you offered me a smile, I'd smile right back,&lt;br /&gt;when you'd say my name, I'd whisper yours back,&lt;br /&gt;when you'd send me a message, I'd send you five back,&lt;br /&gt;when you'd be upset, I'd be more upset back,&lt;br /&gt;when you told me that you cared, I showed you that I cared back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wrote you a letter, you didn't write back,&lt;br /&gt;when I sent you an e-mail, you didn't mail back,&lt;br /&gt;when I typed you a message, you didn't type back,&lt;br /&gt;when I showed you my thoughts, you didn't think back,&lt;br /&gt;when you decided to not need me, I still needed you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrDVXSrVZqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oaPnuPf5bco/s1600-h/Empty+Smile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrDVXSrVZqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oaPnuPf5bco/s320/Empty+Smile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382036150835046050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried so hard connecting with his love,&lt;br /&gt;but it just seemed to him that she never tried in return.&lt;br /&gt;She would just use him at her convenience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-8999082411612063717?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/8999082411612063717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/her-empty-smile.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/8999082411612063717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/8999082411612063717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/her-empty-smile.html' title='Her empty smile'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SrDVXSrVZqI/AAAAAAAAAD8/oaPnuPf5bco/s72-c/Empty+Smile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-4622264415945204363</id><published>2009-09-06T10:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:34:03.122+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The afterthought</title><content type='html'>I spent the last few days missing you.&lt;br /&gt;I'd glance by from time to time, &lt;br /&gt;hoping you'd be there to say hi,&lt;br /&gt;but you never were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried my best to destract myself,&lt;br /&gt;talking about meaningless talks,&lt;br /&gt;and numbing myself to sleep,&lt;br /&gt;just to hope that when I did wake you'd be there,&lt;br /&gt;but you never were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I saw or did something interesting,&lt;br /&gt;I could never really enjoy those moments,&lt;br /&gt;because I'd just end up thinking &lt;br /&gt;how I wanted to share them with you,&lt;br /&gt;I'd arrange lavish stories in my mind to help&lt;br /&gt;re-live those moments with you when you came back,&lt;br /&gt;but you never came back for me to tell them to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until one day, &lt;br /&gt;you returned, &lt;br /&gt;and I no longer knew what to say or do,&lt;br /&gt;because while you were away, &lt;br /&gt;you was everything I could think of, &lt;br /&gt;and while I was away, &lt;br /&gt;I was just your afterthought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqOFqemhzuI/AAAAAAAAAD0/CwaWvhaN9Ko/s1600-h/Frog+Princess+Toy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqOFqemhzuI/AAAAAAAAAD0/CwaWvhaN9Ko/s320/Frog+Princess+Toy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378289344826167010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever his love was gone, &lt;br /&gt;he couldn't seem to function, &lt;br /&gt;he just tended to think about what she would think about what he was doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-4622264415945204363?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/4622264415945204363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/afterthought.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/4622264415945204363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/4622264415945204363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/afterthought.html' title='The afterthought'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqOFqemhzuI/AAAAAAAAAD0/CwaWvhaN9Ko/s72-c/Frog+Princess+Toy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5830482739848823539.post-7391760376077653643</id><published>2009-09-05T03:10:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T08:34:08.441+01:00</updated><title type='text'>19 thoughts about you</title><content type='html'>I thought you were cute,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were sweet,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were caring,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were playful,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were fun,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were complicated (like a rubik's cube I'd want to play with all day),&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were smart,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were annoying,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were beautiful,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were aggressive,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were sensitive,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were aloof,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were hot,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were cuddily (like a bear I'd want to squish),&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were stylish,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were expensive,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were dreamy,&lt;br /&gt;I thought your smile made me smile,&lt;br /&gt;I thought you were special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about you all the time while you wasn't there.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would miss you for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;I thought you would miss me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you never thought about me the way I thought about you,&lt;br /&gt;but that's ok, as long as you're happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqHIuEC32UI/AAAAAAAAADs/1LmKU0wyZkA/s1600-h/Thoughts+about+you.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 156px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqHIuEC32UI/AAAAAAAAADs/1LmKU0wyZkA/s320/Thoughts+about+you.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377800123742411074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; color: rgb(222, 222, 222);"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The backstory..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While his love was away,&lt;br /&gt;he kept a list of what he thought about her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5830482739848823539-7391760376077653643?l=love.softpoetry.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/feeds/7391760376077653643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/19-thoughts-about-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7391760376077653643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5830482739848823539/posts/default/7391760376077653643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://love.softpoetry.com/2009/09/19-thoughts-about-you.html' title='19 thoughts about you'/><author><name>Cairo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06167546978111496513</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SzhIBXVHZ9I/AAAAAAAAAI0/q45dl8B5Kl4/S220/I%27m+Sorry+I+Love+You.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z75fiuW5_aI/SqHIuEC32UI/AAAAAAAAADs/1LmKU0wyZkA/s72-c/Thoughts+about+you.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
