water and air
and a toss of your hair

a little blue
and every thought of you

Maybe my poems are ******,
I'll probably look back at them and cringe,
But right now I love them,
Because without them, how else would I yell at the world?

Words are like lines,
You can mold them,
You can draw them,
Pictures are formed,
Colors bleed through,
They are mine alone,
No one else has the lines,
Inside my mind,
Only I can twist them,
To carve my pictures,
And so I paint them,
Everywhere I step.

If poetry dies
We all fall apart.
If poetry dies,
Will the sun not shine anymore?
Because the sun is poetic in its own way.
It radiates.
It illuminates.
It inspires.
And if poetry dies
Art dies.
Poetry is everything.
Its existed for centuries.
See this is brought people together since forever ago.
And today, it brings us together.
you and me
And whoever else's poems you delight yourself with.
We create a community.
Here
On this site.
People from all over the world.
Each of us with a story to tell
And one talent we show
poetry
Isnt it great?
A tradition that must live on.
The art of emotion
Some complex
Others delightfully simple.
Poetry
Creates us,
Our creativity
And the desire to write something new
Something **great

My first thought of the new year was you,
But now I just wish I could forget it.