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 851° 
Madisen Kuhn
i do not speak your name
i cannot even whisper it
instead, i hide it in my dreams
under my sheets
beneath a sky that sees all
but does not burn my skin
do you ever wonder
what the moon is thinking?
does she gaze down solemnly and see
a fading opus
or a symphony simply tightening its strings
for the final act?
do you think it makes her sad
to see the greens replaced
with soot and plaster
the seas rising to meet her
with an apocalyptic kiss?
the falling tide
the slow recession
reminds me that
she keeps our secrets
but i think it breaks her heart
 793° 
Path Humble
left my phone unlocked
on the taxis back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"


to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"


and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was


Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
 644° 
Madeline Thetard
Today I told someone hello.
2. They didn't say it back.
3. Today I smiled at someone in the hall.
4. They didn't smile back.
5. Today I looked in the mirror to see if I was invisible.
6. Turns out I'm not invisible -- then why can't anyone see me?
7. Today I made a fake Instagram account under a trendy name from the 1960s to see whether I knew any people who had real Instagram accounts.
8. All of the accounts were private save for one.
9. Today I forced myself to be happy for a particular past crush who posted lots of pictures on Instagram with his new girlfriend. Hurrah.
10. Today I looked at everyone's smiling faces and wondered why I wasn't smiling with them.
11. Today I wondered why some people are complete idiots.
12. Today I wondered why my skin tone - white as milk - should make people believe that I can't handle spice, or make people believe that I am stupid.
1. Today I told someone hello.
2. They didn't say it back.
13. Today I comforted someone who said she had no love life.
14. I didn't have the courage to tell her that I've never had a love life and probably never will.
15. Today I told someone I write poetry and they laughed at me.
16. Today I cried in front of a mirror while singing a made-up song that wasn't even sad.
17. Today I told people I was fine when I really was not.
5. Today I looked in the mirror to see if I was invisible.
18. I wish I was invisible.
19. If I were invisible maybe it wouldn't hurt so much 'cause I know I'm here but people refuse to see it.
20. Can I please just be invisible?
1. Today I told someone hello.
2. They didn't say it back.
Not in a fantastic mood right now.
 370° 
beth stclair
oh, how in this dark
oh, how the wave flows,
the sky black and stark-
oh, how the wind blows.

the little dogs bark
their songs full of woes,
oh, how in this dark-
oh, how the wind blows.

the autumn draws nigh -
last splash of the rose,
a withering sky-
oh, how the wind blows!
 329° 
emnabee
Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.
 300° 
Nora
Have I broken your back yet
Like I pulverized mine?
I know I'm a heavy burden --
With weight I cannot leave behind
 250° 
Levi Kips
Love is a person of its own. It lives and dies just like us. My love for my last had a full life, and when that love departed for my life I thought I  was done lovin. I thought for the life that love had I finally won. It was the first love whose life didn't feel taken like a kidnapping, the first love that didn't die premeditatedly, the first love that didn't feel like self destruction or suicide. I thought I was done with lovin when that love died but then I met you. When I met you i felt a feeling of deja vu. When I met you i had feeling of both preparedness yet excitement like riding the same roller coaster a 2nd time.  When I met you i felt like it was a 2nd chance I didn't know I wanted until got to know you. When I met you i asked myself are you ready? Are you ready to raise another love life. Are you ready to go through the teenage love again? Are you ready to be reassurance when her love insurance not giving you full coverage? Are you ready to throw logic and reason away again only trust in Love? Are you ready for the days that all is right but love can change that in conversation? Are you ready for when all is wrong and love is the last thing you have to save the day? Are you ready? After the smiles, sweat, regret, ups, and downs I still answer Yes.
 240° 
JK
A tomorrow for every today.
The present won't go away.
Memories fade in shades of grey,
But the future has a price to pay.
 230° 
Peter J
Were I blind that I no longer
see the shape of my mountain,
Its silhouette as it curtain’s
a crimson falling sun.

Were I deaf that I no longer
heard a chapel bell that ring’s through
my valleys or song birds that serenade
lovers who lie in wild flowered fields.

Or should I loose all my senses that
I no longer catch the scent of wild Anemone,
taste wild mint nor warm summers rain
as it run’s down your salted thighs.

Should I retain all my senses and memories
so I could never forget your freckled face
your curled red hair, your soft white skin
You would know by my touch rwy'n dy garu di.
#reworked
 226° 
Albuna
How can someone you don’t know hurt you so much.
Make fun of you and treat you like an ass.
How do I even know if he is the one, when everytime we want to meet he didn’t come...
When everytime we want to meet he didn’t come.
Now sitting here and asking myself
Why? Why can’t I find a soulmate?
Why is everybody just breaking my heart?
Making me so angry but also laugh?
Why? Why? Why?
I’m asking WHY?
This is a song I wrote by myself.
 220° 
Robin Lemmen
My favourite times with you were the ones well after twelve. Long after the clock had sung its midnight song. Eyes sticky with sleep, heavy from dreaming and the naked truth inviting us in. We found ourselves daring to walk into darkness. No trace of fear lingering onto our unmarked skin. It was you and me, two strangers, against the world. Together found, and for a sliver of time, happiness no longer seemed an eternity away. Love can exist for infinite times but sometimes that means not together but apart. Memories and warm hearts trapped inside the protection of a delicate glass world. Turned upside down and waking up, forgetting we ever said farewell at all. Snow starts falling, each and every time I whisper goodbye, to the ghost of our winter love. Stuck, forever, reliving  memories inside the snow globe of my mind.
 219° 
Peace
Let the love engulf,
wash along the shore,
drift from sea to sea,
body to body,
sprinkling down,
& showering the heart,
leaving you,
wide open,
to receive,
what people,
wish to have..

Don't,
love,
if,
you,
never,
plan,
on,

f.a.l.l.i.n.g..
 190° 
CrimsonEye
Gone,
are my memories of you,
like the morning dew at noon
evaporating under the sun's
heat of your body as you
took me into you
Gone,
are the moments,
when you slept next to me
and i listened to your heart
beat your fists
against the wallflower
you had become
Gone,
are the songs,
we would sing to each other
on those long driv....
...ing forces of nature
My rainbow under your
hurricane's eye,
muddled thoughts,
painfully traced
to the open bottle
of pills on
the counter
tops spinning out of,
control yourself,
i would say,
as i would try and
hold you close
during your fits of rage,
handed down by those before me
I could see them,
through your eyes
tearing at your,
heart strings i would
pluck daily,
in search of a tune
to sooth your aching,
mind you,
I promised I would
never let you,
go back to a time
where the need to medicate
became more important
than the floodgate
i opened in your soul
the day i told you i loved you
The day i stole you from,
death, now your other lover
Gone,
my will,
to be here
without you
 174° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 156° 
faith autumn
All I want is for you
To stop.
Stop acting like nothing happened;
You and I both know
You only came back to me
Because it was convenient.
And now you're like a ghost;
When I speak to you
It haunts me because
It's like you're not really there.
You're only a memory
Of what used to be.
I can't decide what's more painful:
The fact that everything we
Used to have,
Used to know,
Has vanished,
Or the fact that
We never really needed each other
In the first place.
 149° 
Poetoftheway
how do you know when (a human is too broken?)



<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 144° 
Ismail Nasution
I can't remember
Whether it's love or leave
That hurts the most
 143° 
Ari
There once was girl whose mind was full of dancing stars.
Whose ears only heard laughter songs,
and giggles the size of her own semblance,
Cause she saw the world in vibrant renaissance.
Where the sky is fairy tale pink.
And if you blink
You’ll miss the distinct glimpse
Of what she thinks is destined links,
Because she only speaks
With mystique
And deep techniques that will sweep you off feet.
Bring you to an iris street
Where you’ll taste the indiscreet beat
That leaks from her sweet treats.
And you’ll feel complete.
But soon greed shrieks and you’ll try to keep her gleam.
she’ll retreat with a scream,
for she doesn’t like to be held to one dream!
She is a stream flowing gasoline
that ‘ll clean your cheek or ignite your sleep.
She is a queen who should be held in high esteem.
How dare you an unclean disease think you could keep such a fine thing?
But although she may be supreme,
even she can get caught between
Her gleam and a man's need.  
But how could she have known he would bring unpleasant pleas.
She had never before been face to face with hellfire,
With eyes only full of desire,
Mouth made to devour,
And movements that conspired.
And At first he only inspired elation,
Had her full of anticipation,
And left her eyes open in fascination.
But he soon grew impatient and demanded the final destination.  
When she refused to give her purity,
he held her in place.
He filled her mind with razor blades,
Clouded her ears with degrade,
Made her fairy tale fade.
Drank her dry
and left her to die.
 136° 
Not Applicable
I
Am
Insane
   Please
     Send
       Help
I'm
Feeling
  Lonely
   Here
    By
     Myself
Save
Me
Save
   Me
I
Am
  Out
    Of
      Control

A
Downward
   Spiral
    With
      Words
        Diagonal

My
Perceptions
  Skewed
   Diagonal
     I
       Fall

I
Am
  Unstable
    Hear
     My
       Call
                        Save
                       Me
                      Save
                     Me
This.                        Poems
                   A
Mess.                     And
                    I.            
My.                         Friends
                 Am
Nothing.                         More
                 Or
Less.                      Than

A.                           Mess
          

                                                    ­     I'm a mess
I'm a mess...
 113° 
wes parham
Back at the shore, on my own this time,
I'm free now, yes, but alone.
I'm left with nothing,
No pain,
No rhyme,
On a beach less sand than stone.


The tide still licks the shore for crumbs,
But nothing hides beneath.
No voice calls out in dark, feigned scorn,
No stoic secretly cries for release.


The world outside worked magic for real,
It promised us strength in identity,
But now I'm just beginning to feel,
There's actually something wrong with me.


I can't go back until I know,
That your death has served some purpose.
What chance is there, to survive and grow,
When even ghosts can hurt us?


"Perhaps", I said, "it's all unspoken", aloud,
To myself, discovering,
How words can wound but silence drowned,
A heart that's still recovering.
A follow-up to my poem, "the Unbroken"...
I wanted to revisit "the interface" once more, where our traveler seeks new insights.  Poor bastard... Nothing significant here, honestly, the concepts are off-the-cuff, almost random, but the mood I wanted was one of placing the reader on the cusp of despair and a subsequent hopefulness as we try to make sense out of life's pains.
 104° 
Alexis
I thought of you once more,
The way you broke me,
My heart is at war,
I no longer wish to be.
My wings lost all their feathers,
I can never fly,
I just sit and write letters,
Until my thoughts die.
You indeed strangled me,
A little innocent rose,
I cannot let my petals flee,
Pain is what I chose.
Bursting in flames,
My heart still cries,
When it hears your name,
Denying your lies.
My soul consisting of agony,
Wishes to become a ghost,
Disappearance my path shall be,
I will run from you the most.
Your name will never caress my lips again,
Nor will you break my bones,
The memory of you will be my pen,
Writing on the stones.
I am going alone,
This pain will never be spoken of,
The wind has blown,
Taking away my guarded love.
 103° 
Calliope
How crazy am I?
    For giving my heart
    How much crazy will I be?
    If I give myself whole
Hey, I've been thinking
we might work well
together?

We've been friends
for a while now,
I think its time.

Let's take things
to the next level.

No?

Ok, that's fine
at least we can still
be friends?

Cool, I hope this doesn't
make things awkward
between us?

Good.
Talk to you later.
Radiohead "How To Disappear Completely"
 91° 
andisashayi
Take note, keep your heads aloft that great height, and do not mind the sun for it tends to burn.
It doesn't turn, rather we do into various things, though not the things we love the most.
We thought and still do when we can;  
etch small markings on every third rock we pass, then we pass (and we pass on what's been spared for them to carry, wear around their necks until the skin's rubbed raw).
Take note; now you are in transition.
 83° 
Lexie
You told me that there was no end to darkness
That she was the all-reaching
A younger eternal
Still much more than I in existence
A higher being
To my existence

I took this as truth
And swallowed her as water and whiskey
She burned like fire and quenched my thirst as one

Time
Has gone on
And things, dreams
And vision
Oh how they have come to pass

The truth that I had took
She has sat in my belly
And looked through my veins
She saw no stars, but has made constellations in me

I changed.
She is the same,
But she has made me not quite as I was before
Since now I am different - so she seems to be more
Though it does not make me less

While my words may not be for you
It is something said
And so it remains something spoken
Even as it sits on my tongue
Such that I could pull it through my teeth

The Darkness, she wants me
And the angels around me
Oh that their words of caution were more than whispers in the wind
I have a deaf soul
But she sees signs and wonders
Just as they are meant to be know  -by those who have walked the way the eternal has lain bare for them

There is no contrast to be found in this darkness
You have sparks, but no light
But hope will bring you through all things
Even as the storm is coming
Even as the storm is here
Where no ending is found
You will make a new beginning
She smiled to the proposal.

I marked on paper the site
where screeching gulls
would shut out our voice
and her toes white as rice
curl in the touch of waves
waiting a freakish wind
pushing mine into hers
passing seconds to eternity.

She felt vaguely beautiful
when my shoulder held the earth
shaped like her head.

Do you still love me?
my silence questioned,
but she said nothing.

I thought I heard,
Yes.
If she returns to your dreams, her love is alive.
 78° 
Leviathan Andrew
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
The state of Florida is now home to the two most deadly mass shootings in American history. Pulse Nightclub was attacked in my city, I have friends who attend Marjory Stoneman Douglas in Parkland. My little sister often fears going to school. I'm afraid to graduate and leave her. I want to be able to protect her if something happens. I hate that we have a reason to be afraid... That it's reasonable to have these fears. I hate it so f*cking much.
 73° 
Bonjee
V
Now it only goes to show
How blind we all can be.
Thou we do think ''Not me.'',
Sometimes it's hard to see.

Can you tell the difference
Between dream and reality
When you only dwell in a possibility?

Now it only goes to show
How greedy we all can be.
Thou we do think ''Not me.'',
Sometimes it's hard to see.

Can you tell the difference
Between necessity and obligation
When you only act on your satisfaction?

Now it only goes to show
How biased we all can be.
Thou we do think ''Not me.'',
Sometimes it's hard to see.

Can you tell the difference
Between right and wrong
When you only listen to your own song?

Now it only goes to show
How reckless we all can be.
Thou we do think ''Not me.'',
Sometimes it's hard to see.

Can you tell the difference
Between awareness and indifference
When you only acknowledge your own existence.

Now it only goes to show
How lost we all can be.
Thou we do think ''Not me.'',
Sometimes it's hard to see.

Can you tell the difference
Between day and night
When you only escape from the light?..
 73° 
Mr Quiet
I could give you the entire universe but then i would just be giving you yourself.
but it's true tho
 72° 
Al
Green fatigue smothers the mind as purple smoke drifts in the breeze.  The earth comforts with shimmering grass, but these illusions never last.

Time begins its chaotic spin.  Voices call out.  Many languages and dialects I hear.  

A dragonfly hovers, my eyes become hers.

The green fatigue fades, the smoke fragments, the voices so far below.  Slowly we rise, leaving everything behind.

Freedom on a wingtip,
together we fly.
 66° 
Brianna Love
She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..
 63° 
Gabriel Bonney
I don't know why
Some days I decide
I'm better off
Staying quiet
I neglect this world
And figure
It's better off
If I try not to
Transform it
This day

It's in my head
It's out of my mind

I'm upside down
It's inside out
You're underneath
Stay close to me

Help me breathe
I'm singing lah-dah, lah-dah, lah-dah
 63° 
Lady Bird
time is a funny thing yet even
the Earth doesn't like it sometimes
when the blue sky has lost hope
rain drops tears that fall from
gray clouds that hover and mope
the wind blows a misty whimper
a gusty and a breezy attitude
thunder then throws a temper
crashing with a loud tantrum
lightning strikes random rods
packed and full of emotions
and all together nature's tune
storms Earth up a bad mood
yet it amazes me how Earth
spins and hits nothing
 61° 
andromeda green
Are you okay?
Are you alright, are you fine, are you good?
Are you adequate, are you decent?
Are you emotionally stable, sleeping without crying, smiling because you want to?
Are you breathing without questioning, are you waking up without trying, are you eating without throwing up?
Are you reading this poem right now and thinking no?
Are you thinking for the first time, will I ever be okay?

You will be okay.
You will be alright, you will be fine, you will be good.
You will be adequate, you will be decent.
You will be emotionally stable, you will sleep without crying, and smile for the happiness blooming inside of you.
You will breathe without questioning, you will wake up to a new day, you will eat easily
You
are going to be okay.
So please smile sunshine
It’s a fine new day
To be okay :)

- a.g.
just a reminder that everything gets better folks. please, please hang in there. i believe in each and one of y'all.

UPDATE: thank you so so so much for 7.9k. the overwhelming amount of comments and messages and loves make me feel so happy to spread this poem. thank you.
 60° 
nade
she likes to draw on her body like a permanent tattoo.
but she has to feel the pain for it result

it is not a drug,
but she finds it addictive

she knows that it needs to be stopped,
but she needs something to calm her down,
especially to calm her mind down.

;

/2.30am/
she was shaking on the last couple nights.
she can barely sleep.
her head was hurt.
her heart was beating faster than ever.

she covered her face with a pillow,
and screamed as loud as she could, in silence

;

line by line she draws
hurtfully satisfying
then she decides to draw a line on her waist
a long strong one as a reminder of selfishness.
you may have not seen it.
 57° 
She Writes
You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

:)
 55° 
Isabelle
i touched your soul
and scribbled my name on it
love, you’ll never get lost again
 52° 
Pagan Paul
.
Snow drifts down
     laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
          creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
     bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
     and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
     A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
     as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
                     tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
          The snow falls,
     falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
               all is still,
               nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
     dreaming,
                       of being kissed by the Sun.



© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)
.
 52° 
Maria Etre
She couldn't
- - - -c- - - -u- - - -t- - - -
her
-----f- - - -e - - - e- - - l- - - i- - - n- - - g- - - s------
so she
- - - -c- - - -u- - - -t- - - -
her
- - - - - h- - - - a- - - -i- - -r- - -
Happy today, Yes
Happy tomorrow, I hope
Sunshine, Golden rays
My first haiku, hope it brings a smile to your face.
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