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Phil Panebianco Poems
The truth sucks The truth hurts The truth ruins The truth unveils
A Sad Day
A sad day when kids replace books with guns. A sad day when words turn to violence. A sad day when home becomes what they fear. A sad day when knowledge is now learned in the street.
Each day the sun rises, making clouds look bright and beautiful. The smell of morning dew in the air. The wind is blowing gently through the trees. Flowers blooming everywhere,
Love is like a rose
Love is like a rose, when it blossoms it's so new and fresh. Each petal is so beautiful and soft. Each petal holds something special,
Dedicated to my beautiful wife Tara Marriage is the bond of two souls, the fusion of two lives.
There comes a time in life, when we all must grow up. To stop all the partying and playing. Time to take on responsibilities and get ready for the real world. Time to start thinking about the future and what lies ahead.
A New Place
Come with me and I will take you there To a place where someone cares That little spot in our souls we all dream of But no, I am not talking about heaven up above
Don't look at me like I'm strange. Don't look at me as if I am different. I am just myself. A person who expresses his thoughts.
People hate to admit to their addiction, because it's something they cannot control. Something they cannot figure out. It can ruin every aspect of your life.
I know who I am, do you? I know where I am headed, are you going anywhere?
The darkness full of fright, hold on with all your might, until the day of light. Feel the darkness overcome your being,
All This Time
Even after all this time, our love still seems so new. Everyday is a new beginning. Another day of passion. Another day of growing.
A long, cold walk through trials and tribulations, longing to find my innervisions. Trying to rid myself of old reputations, fight old temptations.
Family ties Family cries Family lies No ones ever right
Comments about Phil Panebianco
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The truth sucks
The truth hurts
The truth ruins
The truth unveils
The truth hates
The truth disconnects
The truth destroys
The truth scars
The truth lies
it lies about the truth