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  Feb 2017 Isabelle
Elizabeth Squires
stealing other poet's poems
is so rampant and rife
looters will attest to the works
being of their original life*

with a swag of online poetry sites
used by plagiarists plundering
no poet's heart and soul efforts
are dismissed from the sundering

pilfers of verse ever busy themselves
they're such industrious thieving elves

should they take a fond liking
for what you've written
they'll stow your wonderful lines
in a crook's mitten

copyright and true possession
of materials you've produced
get no attention from they who've
a penchant for something re-produced

under our radar they
do the wicked deed
could be said they are
*so unethical of creed
Isabelle Feb 2017
O iindak na lamang sa tibok ng puso mo
At aasahan ko na lamang ba na di mo aapakan ang aking mga paa
Pipikit na lamang at magsasayaw...
Habang papiglas ka, sa'yo ako ay tatabi..
Ikaw parin talaga. Masakit pa din :(
A combustion of hurt,
shards of her brokenness
with razor-sharp edges
scattered in all directions,

Invisible to the naked-eye,
transparent is her pain,
so too are her soul's tiny fragments - 
shattered, flawed pieces
of imperfections.

A smile to mask the fear
consuming her anxiety ridden,
brave, but broken,
spirit,

A strong warrior,
she knows she is,
as she shuts her tired eyes
and mentally sharpens
her weapons and tools,
preparing, again, to look fear in the eye,
and to fight herself another day -
because, sadly,
she has learnt to live with it.

By Lady R.F ©2017
Prayers for strength
To all the warriors
Fighting an endless battle with
PTSD, ANXIETY
and DEPRESSION.
Isabelle Feb 2017
As they always say
Nothing is for eternity
So does loneliness
Even if it feels like it will
I am telling you
It will not last forever
Trust me, it will end soon..
  Feb 2017 Isabelle
Mark Lecuona
Once he said, "I have no King but Caesar!”
And the Roman obeyed his command
Now instead he has become a believer

Once he watched him suffer a whip
And lusted for his blood to flow
Now it fills a grail for him to sip

Once he hid behind the garrison
He saw him fall on a stone road
Now he's become a good Samaritan

Once he had a hammer and a nail
And used them to fulfill a prophecy
Now he hears a mother's painful wail

Once he made a crown of thorns
He pierced his side and found only water
Now he makes halos out of horns

Once he moved a stone to seal a Tomb
He stood guard in front for Rome
Now he's born again from a holy womb

Once he was a doubting Thomas
Then he asked to see his hands
Now he believes the Lord's promise

Once it was he who would not repent
Until ashen palms blessed his skin
Now he fasts forty days for Lent

Once he was flesh upon this earth
And he was a sinner in God's sight
Now he wonders of his own worth

Once he dreamed that it was too late
And as he stood at the edge of his grave
Now he knows for whom he must wait
Just something I was thinking about; the dual nature of man within the Christian narrative.
  Feb 2017 Isabelle
Gidgette
Beauty,
It can never be seen
But felt
It can never reside on a face
Beauty,
Its in a smile given
The stillness of the lake
After a storm
Leaves coloured, and falling
A summer rain
Beautiful,
Is words spoken in love
A feeling of kinship
Its the smile on a sleeping babies face
It can be found in laughter,
Sometimes tears
Beautiful,
So elusive, yet everywhere
Skin, will fade, wrinkle, and sag
It will age and turn to dust
But real
Beauty,
Never fades
As real Love,
Never dies
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