Oh God, how lucky I am!
This morning, I went out as the **** crowed
I've seen what I saw every day,
but I had never noticed.

The birds sang, the sky stretched with all shades
of blue, yellow and white;
Northerly winds coming and whispering in my ear,
that somewhere a beautiful soul is awaking from sleep                          
and maybe, she's looking at the very same,
divine pictures carved in clouds as I am.

How lucky I am! I own nothing, but I have everything,
I am only a little man, and still I am part of the world
and of the marvelous godly spark that burns bright
in the endless void of the Universe, cradled and protected
by the invisible cosmic forces that, from far away,
today, have brought me the wind .

Only the night's awake
To the sound of my piano
Ringing in empty streets
Reaching far away
Touching the moon
And bouncing back to you

You have broken my heart
But I wish to thank you
For I felt alive

What's up with all the depressing poems young people are writing on this site?

Go out, take a deep breath of the fresh mountain air or the salty sea breeze
Talk to people, have a laugh, look someone in the eyes
Read a book,
You're alive!

With eyes as pure as water
And hair as red as the sweet sunset
With a figure like that
Do you not see my heart beguiled

Do not bestow then, your gaze upon my tired eyes
Do not speak to me, in a voice as dainty as flowers
Do not dance around me in so charming a fashion
And do not say nice words

Unless you are willing to receive my passionate and unconditional love
Stop breaking my heart

The era of social media and virtual interaction
Where it is so important to keep your reputation
And yet indeed it'll take you nowhere
Because you're just another particle in their atmosphere

No matter how hard you try to seem kind
They just can't bother to reply, they seem to be blind
No matter how many thousands of follows you've got
Your friends are still the same old scattered lot

Selfies galore, plenty of them
Show yourself to yourself, feel like a gem
You go with your friends riding a bike
Post a picture on FB and it gets many a like
You're all content about it, it feels so nice
After which, conversation turns to ice

At gatherings telephones sound
Ringing all day, a new friend was found
Introduce yourself, one more time again
And fall into oblivion, it's starting to rain

I just wanted to say that
poetry is like a breath of fresh air
after being enclosed far too long
in a room far too small