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I plant each poem like a seed,  
into the soil of Hello Poetry,  
where words bloom, bright or shy
a garden growing as days go by.  

Two hundred seventy-seven blossoms strong,  
each verse a thread, each thought a song.  
But oh, the dream, the quiet plea,  
to tip the scale of symmetry.  

For sixty-three souls have found the hue,  
of my written worlds, my skies of blue.  
Yet in whispers deep, ambition stirs,  
to gather more hearts where poetry whirs.  

More hands to hold these fragile blooms,  
more voices to echo their subtle tunes.  
Followers to surpass the poems I’ve sown
a milestone carved in my heart's stone.  

So I keep writing, planting anew,  
each word a bridge to those who pursue.  
One day, I’ll stand where dreams collide,  
where followers and poems walk side by side.  

And with each new soul who joins the feast,  
this garden of words shall never cease.
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Lyle
The world spins around so very fast
gone are the days of my past

when I was young and free
nothing ever seemed to get ahold of me

then God placed two angels in my path
my love for them covers my life like a hot bath

soaking my world in loves eternal flame
with my 2 angels by my side
nothing will ever be the same

the universe could cease to exist
but my love for them will always persist

there is no force that could ever undo
the power of my love for the 2 of you

I promise you it cannot be done
for nothing could ever come before a
Mothers love for her daughter & son
My biological mother wrote this for me and my brother back in 2012 while we were in foster care. I only just stumbled across it while going through some old papers and wanted to share it. I see now where I got my love and knack for poetry, which is so crazy because I never knew she wrote poems. I never knew much about her, really.
I stand before the glow - a prism of light and promise, a stage where shadows dissolve into spoken truth. The camera captures my heartbeat in pixelated whispers, each word a bridge, each pause a silent invitation.

Here on this channel, my sanctuary of bright ideas, I unfurl my poems like banners against the digital dusk, speaking directly into the soul of the lens, where audience and artist share a single, pulsing gaze.

The frame holds all my dreams, a mirror of aspiration, as I read verses that echo the rhythm of my being. Curiosity and courage dance at the edge of each line, illuminating hidden worlds set free by my voice.

This is more than a channel - it’s a gathering of hearts, a digital home where the magic of language transforms into a symphony of presence, resonating deep and true. With every reading, I cast a net of empathy and wonder, inviting viewers to step closer, to feel their own light.

And so I begin, microphone and lens intertwined, sharing my art directly with the observer, where each spoken poem marks a moment of shared truth, a pledge that here, in the glow of the camera, we are all the story, the voice, the enduring beat of life.
I am aspiring to my own you tube channel, initially reading my own poetry, but I am dreaming of reading your poetry too... I have to learn camera and sound editing so watch this space
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Maria
The Soul
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Maria
I met the Soul,
And she was empty.
She was exhausted, unattached.
She wandered charily,
Taking the back streets,
Not to be noticed.
She was unsaved.

Was she abused?
Was she just given up?
She walked so poor, not oneself.
"Why are you suffering?" -
I asked her heedfully.
And lo I realized:
It's my Soul herself.
Thank you for reading this poem!💖
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
meka
I'm sorry, mum
That you went through all that pain
To bring me into life
For me to just waste away
And wish I wasn't alive
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Damiano
Between the rides
I've journeyed on
I got lost
In a way between. 

Between the two
Heartbeats
I've skipped
One. 

Between the names
I've read through
On yours
I got stuck.
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Stardust
This consistent need to change
This burning desire to be better
Am I slowly changing for good
Or is it good that I am changing ?
I think a lot, speak a little
I dream a lot, act a little
This constant void that I feel in my Life
Why, why, why, I think to myself yet again
Caught in this trap of monotonous mind battles
Every day, I look into the mirror at my reflection, and all these thoughts pop into my mind. Sometimes they’re kind, sometimes they’re unkind—just passing through as they please. But this ordeal feels so monotonous, like I’m living in a bubble.
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Sav
Forgiven
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Sav
The sweetest of moments,
are still yet to come.

From the depths of despair,
to a bittersweet slum.

In the darkest of nights;
a moth to a flame,
a ship to a light,
I'm calling your name.

In dreams and in memories,
and in memories of dreams.
Sand slipping through fingers,
water flowing down stream.

I'll miss you forever,
I've made peace with that.
Hair of the dog,
tail of the cat.

All is forgiven when mourning the living.
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Nobody
old me
 Apr 12 Selwyn A
Nobody
Tw: blood, ******, violence

A cold blade presses Against my neck.
My breath fast and quick,
My heart is racing.
I squint my eyes,
But i force them open
Knowing this might be the last i see,
So I look at the sky,
The knife still at my throat.

“Go ahead. Do it. I know what you want.”

A familiar voice responds.
The warm breath tickles my ears as he responds.

“Try again.”

He loosens the grip.
I turn around.
His dark hood leaves a shadow,
Blocking his face.
My hands shake.
i watch as his steady hands pull the hood down.
I look at a perfect replica of someone I know.
Someone i know too well.

“Surprised?”
He whispers smugly.

my eyes close
And I laugh
Because I felt it
I knew,
I knew the whole time.
He pulls me back again,
gripping the blade even tighter than before.
I laugh once more,
Not from fear
But because I knew the whole time
I'm The one doing this to myself.
I'm the one holding the blade.
I'm the monster.
I'm the murderer
So I let myself slash the knife.

goodbye, old me
You never did anything for me anyway
Dedicated to the dead little boy inside of me, the one that was hurt, bullied and slaughtered until he was gone. Goodbye, unbroken child. Goodbye, innocence. Goodbye, old me.
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