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To the Queen of hearts
Is the Ace of sorrow
He's here today
He's gone tomorrow

Young men are plenty
But sweehearts few
If my love leaves me
What shall I do

And I have a story
In yonder mountain
Where gold and silver
Is there for the counting

I could not count
For thought of thee
My eyes so full
I could not see

I love my father
I love my mother
I love my sister
I love my brother

I love my friends
And relatives too
I'll forsake them all
And go with you
Nana mouskouri
 Feb 2018 Latina1813
empty seas
scrub scrub
brush brush
you’ll never be perfect
you’re not good enough
no use in wearing makeup
it can’t work miracles
besides
you can barely get out of bed anyway

slip on that sweatshirt
baggy to cover your fat
look at those fat thighs
the flab on those arms
no wonder everyone who loved you has left

fat
ugly
cover yourself up
shorts are a battle
bikinis an impossibility
might as well just give up

body positivity only works for pretty girls
and trust me
you’re not one of them
I don’t like my body
 Feb 2018 Latina1813
Star BG
We
 Feb 2018 Latina1813
Star BG
We
We are all poets.
Sometimes, using pens
on floor-like keyboard to write.
Other times, our poems are sung like bird
to whisper in ears of passerby's.

We are all poets.
Communicating in whatever form we choose.
Sometimes expressed
with a stare or kind gesture.
Other times, we use bodies as tools
to dance or move
speaking without words.

We are all poets,
marching to our own melodies.
Gift's we possess as divine beings of love.
Inspired by Latina1813

— The End —