Poetry has a sensitive soul
A drive and impulse
Telling stories the way they are
Feelings of soberness
A heart felt word

Poetry has a sensitive heart
Beautifully immense
A heart of gold
Giving values to life
Adding years to life: Poetry is beautiful

Poetry has a sensitive soul
Like streams that meanders slowly
Like a river glorious: It Flows
Poetry has a sensitive heart,
A beautiful soul; A flying Angel.

Poetry is the signal
that
The soul sends into the world
Like the river, it flows into the sea,
yet the sea never gets filled.

Poetry is the fluid for the soul,
The liquid for the yearning of the Mind
That which quenches the fire
Feeding the deepest desires
Poetry is Gold in essence

Ovi Odiete©

In the
Middle of the

Night, in the darkest hour,
Outside in the streets; you'll find
The ghosts all around.

Are you afraid? Don't run
From them, they feed on fear.
Ready to fight the fight, I scream "I'm Not
Afraid!! of no ghosts!"
In the middle of the night I wake up from a
D**ream--a crazy, weird, wild dream. :)

I'm finally free from this emotional cell ,
Though I was stuck between heaven and hell,
You were not coming was all I could tell,
I was finally out but wished you well,

I sat beside despair and sorrow,  
Wishing you would come today or tomorrow,  
But I got a little older everyday,  
When I became hopeless I tried finding a way,

But maybe I should accept somethings can never be,  
Yes you will love someone but that someone isn't me,  
From what I'm told and I feel and I clearly see,
You have long forgotten this prisoner
who only  you can set free,

Love was meant to mend broken hearts,  
Not to break them more into smaller parts,  
Love was meant to bring tears of joy,  
Not to result emotional  suicide of a girl or boy,

Yes we think we understood what love was meant,
We should take our words back in regret and repent,
This love we know is just an emotional prison,

I'm free and you are too to learn about love ... the way it should be.  



AROODY©2016/17

And in the end,
You begin to realize who your true friends are.
The ones who stand by your side
Through thick and thin
Trial, error, and sin.

In this day and age,
Not many stand the chance
In nomination
For the sacrificial commencement of honour.

Nature plays its part indeed.
Because it is only in time
The veil is lifted.
Root by root,
Seed by seed.
Humanity reveal their true colors.

Next thing you know,
You've been cursed by a plague.
A whole school of fish
Swimming to discover their own island.
That is only for thyself.
You've been contaminated
By the human race.

Look at the social media blow up.
The narcissistic selfies,
The I, me, my's,
Gaining daily acceptance
All in disguise.
The public audience is their show.
It's needed for everyday approval.

Nobody really cares about you
It's all about
"Look at me!"
"Look what I can do!"
"You are so cool."
"Thumbs up to you!"
I'm going to abuse the word "love."

Forget the hoopla
Here today
Gone tomorrow.
Everyone feeding off of
Self loathing attention.
There is no more room for pitiful sorrow.

Truth is
Sheep lie among the prey
Victims...
Don't be another
"Nodding Acquaintance"
A distortion of the facts.

Don't get fooled.
Not by social grace
Not by exploitation of the face.
You'll just be a bargain commodity,
For their convenience.

Stand true
True to yourself
Because in the end,
Nobody else really cares.

I sat down
To write a poem about
The way things used to be

But I can't remember
Much before dinner
So that thought's eluding me

Then I thought
A poem about
The life I'm living now

What came across
Was one big yawn
Perhaps a bit too loud

Then it occurred to me
Maybe the poem should be
Set in the near future

Before I even began
That light grew dim
So that path I didn't venture

Now here I am
With pen and paper in hand
In this conundrum of what to write

Until that time
The poem I find
I'll just kindly say goodnight