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Ander Nov 2014
Tingling alarm,
burning eyes,
sassy is out,
in my mind.

**** long hair,
short skirt,
dark music,
pale skin.

Salty humor,
seriously sweet,
sparkling aura,
on high-heels.

Knocking on hearts,
Opening doors,
Shivering crowds,
Dancing all floors.

Sight sets on me,
Fountains of youth,
Brilliance in her steps,
Each marked with truth.

Tied by her beauty,
My soul's reeling in,
Tossing and turning,
The lure, deady sin.
Collab with Dajena
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maggie Emmett Nov 2016
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.
Having seen the dreadful remarks made on Social Media about USA President's wife, Michelle Obama I think this poem is worth re-reading
g clair Mar 2014
have you ever felt shot into space
with nothing to hold to without any trace
of the one who was always around
who could laugh really hard and without any sound

and you fear that someday he will see
that you're mind is a strange one indeed, yet it's free!
to be up in the air and then down
hear that music that plays like a carnival sound

and it's something that's deep in your soul
from the day you first met he's been making you whole
cause he won't let you feel afraid,
fix you up when you're ****** and knows his first aid

Five of us kids to take care of
and all within seven short years
Leno then Beano then Bonzo then Labo then Damo
all laughter and tears.

It seems that we share the same feelings
about our ol' dad, and it's said
much better to share them while we are alive
than to wait until after we're dead.
  
and so I will write about Daddy
and because I am long with my word
my poems I will say can go on for a day,
and a night or so that's what I've heard.

To Tony, Loretta would cater
she cooked for the man who would date her
they married and so, and what do you know
three children would come along later.

Born October two four, nineteen hundred
and twenty eighth year of our Lord
at home, the first child of Tony and Rhetts
baby Vinny, was cut from the cord.

This sweet little Vincent Morrone
raised up in by my Nonna and Tony
quickly stuck in his ways, from the start of his days
and could size up the truth from a phony.

He grew up in old Jersey City
where he polished the width of his witty
had a sister named Claire who remembers him there
dear old dad, handsome lad, and she's pretty.

Their brother was born sometime later
our sweet uncle Jerry Morrone
Handsome and good and well liked in the hood
got those genes and that same funny bone.

 After Highschool, staff sergeant in Air Force
guiding take offs and landings, his post
Four years of St Pete, put him smart on the street  
and he left for the likes of our coast.

He was offered a job down in Jackson
elementary dear Watson, it's said
he would fall for another young teacher, a screecher
whose sassiness got to his head

He married our mother, that's Jacquie
they really were some kind of a pair
she knew he was smart, liked his looks and his heart
and respected the good that was there.

So five days a week Dad would teach
and he liked those nine months of the year
but he lived for the summers at Jenkinson's beach
where that salt water pool was so clear.

in a torn old white sweatshirt and plaid shorts
he was sharing a Bud at the fence
loved his mower and pool, and that backyard was cool
much more like a park, you would sense.

we know how he hated the gurlic
and that onions would just make him hurlick
my mother would never use any such thing
he could drive her to sing like Steve Urlick.
( did I do that?)

No qualms about eating cold hotdogs
and cheddar in chunks from red foil
liked his eggplant cut thin, and his gravy could win
a blue ribbon, the secret? No spoil!!

Could deliver a joke like Bob Newhart
or a pun just for fun was sublime
he was always aware, but for crowds, didn't care
unless it was harmony time.

Best one on one at a party
but the life when it came to his cracks
made small talk okay, but preferred just to stay
to the side and be watching the acts.

Old Spice and that weekender stubble
did his thing and his speaking was soft
he was never a man to cause trouble
but he'd tell you when something was off.

McDonalds and corn on the cob
smoked a pipe, did not curse, and was never a slob
though I know he was not always neat
he was clean, never smelled, never spit in the street.

taught us never to take wooden nickels
and he loved a fresh jar of those kosher dill pickels
drove a large Orange bug in the day
with a driver side  SPEBSQSA

he wiped off my face with his thumb
that he'd lick first to clear away jelly and crumb
and he'd always be there in a pinch
if I needed his help, he was there, not a Grinch!

He was always the Good Humored one
bought us Ice cream and took us to places for fun
an occasional "word to the wise
you've cashed in your chips
and don't hand me your lies."

and the one who would walk me not once
but twice down the aisle of heartache and gloom
as a wife I have failed, a dunce
yet dismissing that elephant out of the room.

and tried not to laugh at my lot
at my barrenness, troubles and all of that snot
took me back to this place for some peace
never charged me a dime, not a landlord with lease
but a man with the mercy he knows
he understood sometimes that's just how life goes

and suddenly everything's changed
I am fifty two times around, feeling deranged
and it's not because I need a crutch
feeling lost in this world  
which I've lived in and such

but that I have been shot into space
having lost what I loved, it's my dad's loving face
and I'm here in the house that he bought
it's the one where we loved and the one where
we fought

and I cried here at length at the table
feeling shot into space, as if I am unable
to cope with the loss of my dad,
with the loss of his smile  and the voice that he had

and the place that he had in my life
in my heart....in my head...in my mind...So I climbed
to room where my dear daddy slept
and I laid on that bed and I wept and I wept
feeling shot into space I recalled that man's face
and I reached for the  tissues he kept in that place

and in one second flat, as I blew
from the nose of his likeness,  I knew and it's true
I was beamed back from space
into someone's embrace
and believe me, as if my dad knew...

For my father was known to be punny
always quick with the wit, such a honey
he would tell me to write, for it was his delight
that his children were his kind of funny.

I am never to think I am odder
for I am what I am, my dad's daughter
I hear distant strumming and now my dad humming
the theme song from Welcome Back Kotter.

http://youtu.be/5VlGyMG0ksg
My dad was a teacher and enjoyed music, jokes, puns, crow sounds, barbershop harmony, golfing, wearing certain colors which made him look good,  his own family, grandchildren, crossword puzzles. spy novels, movies. hotdogs, eggplant parm, radio talk shows, good food at the same restaurant, the Chapter House. Singing Barbershop harmony a tear jerker song or movie, peace and quiet. mowing the lawn and working in the yard, his car, a little whiskey sour or a cold Bud in the summer. BBQ out back. Football. Baseball. Ice cream. root beer floats. smoked a pipe ( the smell of sweet pipe tobacco still reminds me), applesauce with cinnamon , apricot jam, my cookies.  etc.
Mohit Kalwadia Jul 2012
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
I remember being friends with a girl who spoke like a fawn and was as thin as a stick. Her face naturally beautiful, her eyes gleaming with happiness. A pageant queen. A cheerleader. But when she told me about protein shakes as fillers for meals I learnt that the happiness was fake. No matter how much she got, who she saw and met, no matter how many "Miss Teen Canada" titled she won, she would be unhappy. She has constant girlfriends come and go, each her own lovely and unique thinspiration; a collage of limbs and bones she aspired to be. Her obsessions took a hold of her for six years, making her sad, delusional, crazy, until the point she hit the 89 pound mark. Until she ended back up in a hospital. I told her I cared. I meant it, too, but I knew the voices in her head were all too loud to hear my truth of her. The truth of a brilliant, talented girl. Sometimes being called "beautiful" is not always a compliment"

I know a boy of european descent. Born in Bulgaria, raised in Canada for just a couple of years. His English got really good after sixth grade, and that's when we finally became friends. I guess now you can say we're best friends. To my expected surprise he turned out to be gay. And to my surprise, it seemed like there was something deeper. He recently sold himself, something that can now only be a shell or a casket. His parents didn't know he was 29. Or that he was gay. i thought about all the fun times- all the sassiness, the dumb jokes, the radio job- and it made me think how much of that was for show. A fake smile. A talented, lively comedian. One that hid behind crude jokes that portrayed a reality all too real to him. Someone who has silently suffered for far too long. I wish he didn't. I wish he didn't have to hide. I am always scared that his last word he hears will be a derogatory one.

There was a girl I was very jealous of. She was my best friend, and creativity flowed through her like a waterfall starting at her heart. She was everything I wanted to be- intelligent, beautiful(in the natural stunning way) and thin. She was so thin. She had impeccable music taste, and we bonded over that. Despite the ******* rock we use to hit the **** to, she enjoyed classical music. She liked being alone. And although she was a self proclaimed optimist, she would hide away her guilt and sadness. I knew she was like me. We both took cold showers while we layed on the bath floor, hoping our hearts would freeze. We would walk the streets of downtown Toronto, praying that the night would swallow us whole. We would *** smokes off of older men in hot leather that rode Harley Davidson's that secretly wanted to **** us. And our cigarette smoke would stick to our summer-kissed skin, and id be even more jealous of how she became tanner and I began to look like a pale little ghost. She was lovely but cheated on. A young looking boy with a galaxy of freckles on this universal boy-band face. He ended up being wrong. The galaxy turned dark black, the boy-band tunes into soft, somber cries. Her cries. I remember having to sit back and watch while I rolled a spliff; I thought about it when I was being caressed too. Optimism can make you see brighter days, but it doesn't stop the hurting your heart will face.

There was a boy I knew who use to smoke his lungs away with **** and french kissed death with pills drowning in alcohol. There was a boy I knew who always use to skip class, but came every once in a while to let the teacher know he was alive. The boy grew too fast, or maybe too slow, or both. One part to reliable and the other too aware. He knew all the causes but never the solutions. He would always fight with anger because he never knew love. No one ever loved him. Instead, i picture him going home, parents neglecting him as he, the lost boy, goes up to his room. Closes the door, drops the blinds, cries. "Be a man" the voices say, but he can't tonight. He focusses too ******* the pain (it's finally something he can focus on). And there was this boy, who dug his nails into his palms, drank until he couldn't see; swinging punches and hitting air as his opponent was strung out on the other side of the room. I never knew if lost boy would cut himself to drain out his sadness or if he snorted more lines to forget what was lying in front of him. I wondered show long it would take lost boy to put the gun to his head and call it quits, how long till his name flashed on the news. Lost boy eventually drowned himself in the bottle, finished the pills, ran out of money and now we don't ever hear from him. He's just lost.

-teenage experience

conceptcollection
This was a very important piece for me to write. Each paragraph is symbolic and explains someone I know and the struggles that they are going through. This can be related back to real life teen issues arising in todays society. This includes eating disorders, acceptance from the straight community if you're gay/any other ****** orientation, being cheated on and substance abuse. I would appreciate if everyone read and respected this piece, as I stated before that these are real teenage experiences. Thank you.
Myriah Mar 2015
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. By maya angelou
betterdays Jan 2015
you mumble and maunder
all through your afternoon
nap....
never quite still,
but not thrashing about...

and then you wake,
tired and grumpy
all sweat and stickyness

two hours of tired
and five years of sassiness
standing before me
with thunderclouds for
eyebrows....
                      you want!!!....

but what you get is
a big hug a quick dash
to the next door neighbors pool....

please god....when will this
heatwave end???
not much sleep....hot sticky
5 year old....we all needed
a quick dunking to cool down....
Harry Lamba Apr 2014
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Muyiwa Williams Aug 2016
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I riseup from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise
by Maya Angelou
Marisia Delafuga Mar 2015
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may **** me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Alexandra of Old Mar 2013
It's been a while
No more words
Amazing the effect that has

I don't care
I won't be crushed

No, I won't.
But isn't that the tragedy of it all?

How all of this world spins on games
And sassiness
Money and irony
Along with ***** skills.

All of that is great
But it builds these walls so high

You think they've gone down
Till you bleed your head on the sharp bricks
As they fall, heavy, into your lap
Staining you skin and your clothes

As it seeps into you
Then grinds you back into the ground
Back into your home

But I don't want to go!
And on goes the grinding sound of those walls
Coming ever closer

With control.
Travis Green Dec 2018
My daughter is 16 and thinks that she
is a grown lady, the sassiness in her steps,
the stares and smirks in the bathroom
mirror, rosy fleshed cheeks chipper and
glowing bright, as she dances and spins
around like the wheels of a moving vehicle.
I can see the upbeat swag in her hips,
the iridescent charm in her flow, how her
caramel brown skin glistens like the sun,
like a sparkling diamond in the moonlight.
And as she twirls her lustrous curly hair,
I can hear her soft voice singing Brandy’s
song, Sittin On Top Of The World, pure
sweet harmonies rising in the air towards
a sea of uncharted dreams.  There’s the
dazzle in her bright brown eyes, serene
gleam and glossy red lipstick she tries
to hide from me.  Her mind is ahead
of its time like the tremendous trees
that stands in the background filled
with so much knowledge and depth.  
But a part of me worries that she is
becoming a young woman too soon.  
Some days when I’m home polishing
the furniture and she walks in through
the screen door, I can see the radiance
and flirtatious grin in her frame,
those various boys that got her losing
her mind like a kingdom falling apart
piece by piece.  And when I try to talk to
her, there’s the smart remarks that rises
out of her mouth.  Who do she think I am?
She must not know that she is not too old to
get an old-fashioned whipping.  Back in the
days when I was a teenager and we talked
back to our parents, that was grounds for
an absolute beat-down, the kind that had
a stinging sensation of blazing rhythms,
a swollen space of broken waves.
Still, I understood the meaning behind
those times, the many days when my parents
showed me tough love in hopes that I would
bloom into a blossoming woman.  And now
as I stare at my baby girl, I can only hope that
she too will blossom into a beautiful flower.
Tatiana Mar 2019
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies
You may tres me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I am waking like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room

Just like moons and like stars
With the certainty of tides
Just like hopes springing high
Still I rise

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling like teardrops
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness upset you?
Don’t take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my backyard

You may shoot me with your words
You may cut me with your eyes
You may **** me with your hatefulness
But still, like air, I rise

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I Rise
Out from a past that’s rooted in pain
I Rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide
Welling and swelling I bear the tide

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I Rise
Into daybreak that’s wonderfully clear
I Rise
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave
I am the dream and the hope of the slave

I Rise
I Rise
I Rise
I did not pen this poem. It is one I’m studying I my advanced literature class, and it touched me deeply because so many people in my life, myself included, can relate to it one way or another.
Travis Green Jan 2023
I long to sojourn in your swirling
Soul-stirring world of immersing
And shimmering grandeur
Cherish your unattackable crashing majesty
Your warm, charming hotness

Collapse into your smashing and thrashing masculineness
My head pressed tightly against your broad-toned pecs
Nothing else matters when I am in your gravity
When you grip my whip
And kiss my rich silken lips
When you engulf my lush, seductive voluptuosity

Light up my subliminal self
Capture me like the fiercest bloodthirsty criminal
Exclusive elusive hoodness
Delicious magnificent slickness
The keenest and coolest wheeler and dealer

You bring me the highest liveliest delight
Elevate and satiate my sensations
Penetrate the depths of my inner space
Travel through the titillating trails of my gayness
Enamor me like crazy
Manipulate me, take me, permeate me
With ******, red-hot thoughts

Let me get with your chillin’ libidinous litness
Splash out on my sassiness
Love me more than ever
Let me float through your headspace
In the throes of your strapping revolutionary mantuary
Neville Johnson Jul 2023
I guess I did not know her
She sure had me fooled
Those walks and talks
Those kisses
Enough to burn this city down
All a man could want
To be satisfied
Then, in an instant she was gone
This mirage who cornered me
My disappearing angel
It used to be lovely
I shake my head in anger
With a dose of what was that
Once upon a time is all it was
My world went flat
So she indeed is gone
But still in my thoughts
That tawny breath of sassiness
Who made the difference
In this ordinary life
Who means everything to me
Life goes on, but our love does not
It is just not meant to be
TW Rice Sep 2019
Beautiful is how i describe her appearance. Breathtaking is how she leaves me after we talk. Brilliant is her mind, shes always thinking. Strong woman is how i describe her. She says she is "simple". Her love holds me close. Her kindness and compassion, ive seen first hand, its unmatched by any other. Her sassiness makes me crave her. Theres no one as precious as she is to me.

Dedicated to Special K
Shane Thien May 2020
Ari
She moves with style
Loves her fans wild
Is gorgeous as a flower
Always has an hour
Of beauty sassiness and grace
Wears full makeup
And sometimes lace
Lools like a queen
But resolves conflict divas are mean
She is Ariana Grande!
Nargis Parveen Aug 2020
You love to hurt me
Okay, do it;
Still I'll unfold petals
Bit by bit.

Nothing can suppress me
My sassiness leaps,
The unlimited sky inspires me
When pain rips.

If melancholy occupies me
Leaving me weary,
Fancy makes a wonderful flight
Verses look like fairy.

I thank darkness of night
Smiling into morrow,
Still hope sparkles onward
In prevailing sorrow.
TW Rice Nov 2019
There will be no more loneliness, we will be one, completing each other. Love will be shared openly everyday. We will be content with what we have as long as we are together. You we will have someone who cares about every moment of your life and so will I. Laughter will always fill our lives. Desires will be met. Hugs and kisses given often as we greet each other. Appreciation for each other will be our harmony. Thankfulness always on our lips for now we know what home is not. Sassiness and playfulness will fill each room and it brings bliss. Safety is what are communion brings. Music fills our halls as we dance together with every opportunity. On our bad days, we realize as long as we are together all is well. Our love has built this home together foreverly and always.

Dedicated to Special K

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