Mirror mirror !!!
Who is the unlucky in this world
The one who fails the thing in one
And no doubt its infront

Mirror Mirror !!
Who is the saddest in this world
The one who is here to ask
you have no money to buy all you want

Mirror Mirror !!
who is the happiest in this world
Go and asked with another one

                                          
                                                      Mirror Mirror !!
                                                      Who is the happiest in this world
                                                      Ohh didn't you notice care of  one
                                                      You­ are the one with bunch of love

                                                      Mirro­r Mirror !!
                                                      Who is the prettiest in the world
                                                      You are the queen of someone's hearts !!!

I write to ast I know later
What i,ve sone but i
Opologize my mind can tkeep up
With up with my fingers and thumb.
  
SO hose that read my poems i say
Sorry after people have read them i edit
To undo the wrrors that have been done
  
So please do tell if I put an e instead
Of an i but please dont be a dastard
As i write my ideas while stil fresh before
They are gune.
  
Thank you for reading mistakes may be
Done, but please bare with me as insults
Dont solve anything, i love to write and
Mistakes are some times dome.

Monosyllabic
Is a five-syllable word
How ironic right?

not all earthquakes
leave you shaken;
yet show you
-you had been standing still all your life.


(you were my earth quake,you shook life into me,and for that,i thank you. )

There are no Apaches
With flaming arrows and piebald ponies
There are no writhing jungles round here
There are no lost temples
Hiding untold treasures
There are no damsels to be rescued
By a knight on a white charger
There are no pirates on the high seas
No skull and crossbones flying
Above a deck bristling and glistening
With cutlasses and flintlocks ready
And hook hands and black eye-patches
In the sunlight of the Spanish Maine
There are no interplanetary wars
With hand-held laser guns
And weird creatures from strange worlds
They just do not exist
I learned this when
I was very very young
And I really wanted to be a pirate

                                    By Phil Roberts

You were the sun, I was a flower
I looked up to you to learn, you set me free to bud
You kept me warm through windy spring nights
You taught me to grow through golden leaves falling
After storms, you crept from behind the clouds to help me dry
When snow fell, I was buried beneath the ice and you brought me back again
But once the summer came, you blazed so bright I couldn’t see

The sweltering sun, my sweet sun
I took your light, your love, and I blossomed
Then I grew, only to realize you would always be far up there
I took too much and waited, wilted and grey in the end.

I can't make brushes
dance all flamenco—
red, blue, purples
on a peacock's feathery
canvas

Nor can I raise
unborn symphonies
from a string's womb

Instead, I piece
words caught
like fireflies
in the air
stir their light
through and through
in cosmic metaphors
in sea allegories
in flights of soliloquies
in lovelorn colloquies

Really,
I can't dazzle eyes
nor fuddle ears
but I behold
the days to come
with tongues from
yesteryears