Her face is like a poem
Her heart a willow tree
Bending softly in the moonglow
Beating always for me
She’s the bell in my distance
The hearth at home
With me everywhere
Even when I’m alone
In the desert she is water
She’s the forest and the trees
Everything she is to me
Everything

Paper faces and silicone smiles-
Where’d you get that mask, little girl?
Looks an awful lot like

me.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

If you are down and feeling blue,
Then this thought is meant for you.
Always remember . . .

Love can mend the broken

I am so sorry.

For every time I hurt you..

For every cruel word I’ve ever said to you..

For not seeing what you needed most..

For not being kind to you as much as everyone else..

For every tear you have wasted..

For every time I stepped on your heart..

For every time I didn’t believe in you..

For every time I didn’t listen to you.

I am so sorry.

For ripping you apart..

For destroying the beautiful things in you..

For always making you pay the price..

And I apologise for all the wrongdoings I caused you!

Forgive this fallible human that is you.

I am so sorry.