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I see a flash of lightning,
Sounds of clouds humming.
I hear a boom of thunder,
Another storm is coming.

The rain hits the windows,
The puddles begin to form.
Clouds are getting darker,
But it's just another storm.

The sky is painted black,
The clouds move and swarm.
Raindrops smash the ground,
But it's just another storm.

The booms of thunder fade,
The black clouds turn grey.
It's all coming to an end,
The storm is fading away.

Storms will come and go,
Some big and some small.
You're brave, you're strong,
You can face them all.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81MhAp1fE6A&feature=youtu.be
Kindness is like snow...
It beautifies everything it covers.
Art is like snow...
It's sculptures inspires others.
Happiness is like snow...
It makes everyone stop and smile.
Sadness is like snow...
It only lasts a little while.
Christmas is like snow...
It makes every child cheer.
Friendship is like snow...
It's appearance is held dear!
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCQrxOE2VCM
The magic of winter, is all around.
The magic of winter, every sight and sound.
Snowflakes and snowmen, getting cosy in bed.
Soft scarves and mittens, bobble hat on your head.
Red cheeks and noses, warm homes all around.
The magic of winter, every sight and sound.

Happy Winter.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgsgjnxCuic
I'm sure there have been times,
When you have felt so down.
You display a smile to the world,
But inside there is a frown.

People have hurt you badly,
You don't always know why.
For some reason some people,
Take pleasure when you cry.

But you are not weak or fragile,
You are not a wart or ****.
They may have tried to bury you,
They didn't know you were a seed.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riJyB_8TA8U
The vintage doll in the window
staring into thin air.
Fake tears in a pipet
drip down her face.
Born into original sin
and the urge for it to wash away.
Slow soapy circles
on the porcelain skin.

A made up story
to clear the sky
that otherwise
drip
drip
drip
down water
watering her eyes.

— The End —