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THE MUSIC OF MY HEART I heard the kiss you blew my way. It brought me to you. This lover's play ... All through the morning rain I gaze and say.
A LOVER'S NOTION How could you knowI miss you so.... We've been apartImprisoned by disdainListen to my heartLet it explain....
Why do we write, scribbling ink onto paper? Why do we do it now instead of later? Why indeed do we do so many things in life, Instead of facing head on its many strifes?
The audience goes silentAs the curtain starts to openThere on the stage is a whole other worldMaybe one from this galaxySometimes from the nextBut nevertheless the actors preform
Can I hear one? A real one for just once. A poem about our children, and why they need healing from their parents decisions.
Have mercy on my soul. For there's some things I do not know. Written stories have gone untold. Water the rose, over time it'll grow. What do you call a home, that's not a home? Lonely child, no one to hold.
if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then those who cannot see her light are merely blinded in the reflection. she's gold and iron, so strong and lovely.
Just like every second of the day Creativity cannot be rushed It’s something we all have And what makes us US But something overlooked
My brain it runs and runs and runs and sometimes trickles. But I always hear it dripping. Drip Drip Drip. One day there'll be enough to swim in it. But now there's just enough
My little Snow Lily My little frost flower When your dress is so frilly it strengthens my power If you ever feel like a petal and fall
See. Cracking, crying. Reeking of many failures Tasting the bitterness of shame and fear
Began so long ago, Boxing was the passion, Fuelled the desire, at 15 years of age, Non stop training, to be the best. Running, sparring, padwork, Part of the regime, Training often,
The day of rest, for the nations best. But who really stay in bed? Body clock, kids, and intsa too, make this very distracting for you. Try as you might, to switch off from this, the sun rises, disturbing
It happened so long ago, the memories aren't so clear for me to see. You were everything, everything to me. I trust you would always be there, yet it weren't to be. Alone in this would, my life is so incomplete.
Read between the lines, Something I have just learned, Some people try to hide, Behind powerful words. For some it's difficult, To find the correct vocabulary, For vocal expression,
Poetry has taught me to not ignore the people closest to me. I've learned to acknowledge the pain that they cause me. I've seen how my father left one day and didnt come back for months.
What has been taught by poetry? I have learned much about the person called me. I have learned how to express myself creatively. I have learned how to set my thoughts free
Placing words on this paper
Stop loving me gimme youre drink of toxic im not welcome to exuse my K.D welcome myself crazy im so alarmed be so sweet my clone has gone so crazy im the king just kill me with youre apple im to exited
Hey babe have you seen my blossom? I just lost it so quickly so did you see a little spark in a sharks eye? But babe have you seen my basket? that is for the blossom so why nobody found my blossom and my basket?
Reopening this hidden treasure chest Treasure not of riches but of rareness Holding all my worst and bits of my best
Why this? Why us? Why do my uneducated peers pass judgement so freely? Am I similarly found within them often? Why do we find ourselves without bonds or restraints? Why are we all so vicious to other humans?
I don't Care. Who cares. Caring is causing wear and tear on my mental. Maybe I'm doing it wrong strong arming those around me into submission my only mission was to be I just wanna be successful
"How now brown cow?" Is what I would've said, about now, But within this past year I over came my fear. Expression to say what one's inner self wants without always having to say
I remember you. You were raindrops on my windowsill Still drowsy from your sleeping pill.
The one thing that ignites the light Which excites my mind from day to night Is the delight I feel once I write All my focus is on the trains of thought All I notice is what I jot on the spot
Writer’s block the cursed thing that anyone with an ounce of creativity resents.
I long to be your deity,To stroke your entirety With the palette of my choosing As I cover you in colorAnd give you life.Never mind what I useIt is assured I will always have a use.I love the way you grant me competence,Complete control.I love th
I am extraordinary, my life, my brain, everything surrounding me is magic. Wondrous light that angels dare not see. I am one, one in a sea of faces, each dark and clouded. Eyes dull and heads slumped.
Me and my friend Mr. Pen Where do I begin From the aroma your black ink gives off With every flick of my wrist To the kiss stains you leave on fresh paper I knew we’d be friends until the end
I bash my head on the walls until it cracks open I let everything pour out soupy and thick like egg yolks
Behind this stained glass wall I see you. Broken and alone Behind the color and perfection. Countless times, I have tried to break through, But unfortunately
Up again, Awake and aching for a change, A shift in the vicious circle, Where life takes all prisoner, And leaves nothing but stones In the ground. Don't make a sound