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)

Its not love on which the strongest Foundations are built,
Its the decency of Merciful Lies,
That are buried deep in our hearts,
Bound! never to peek or pry through our meek
Withered Hearts.

I mistook you for a glass,
When I poured all my love
Into you

i remember
your favorite
flower.
do you
remember
my name?