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Ami Bear Aug 2011
Happiness from being friends,
sweetness from being lovers?
I wonder which to choose!
For friendship is represented by circle,
it goes around.
For intimate relationship is represented by heart,
it breaks.
Which will I prefer?
For I know,
Friendship does not end,
yet enjoy the rest of their lives.
But lovers turn blue,
when everything falls apart.
Friends says it all,
Lovers may hide.
My heart wanted to say "I love you."
My mind tries to contradict my heart.
I don't know what to do,
or what to say,
or what to feel.
I'm falling for you my friend.
But I'm afraid,
it might break us forever.
If only I could choose.
If only I could choose both,
I would.
Ami Bear Aug 2011
You be the tree,
I'll wrap you like a koala.

You be the fragile,
I'll handle you with care.

You be the child,
I'll take good care of you like your mother.

You be the criminal,
I'll fight for you like a lawyer.

You be the president,
I'll protect you like a guard.

You be the teacher,
I'll listen to you attentively like a student.

You be the traveler,
I'll guide your path like a map.

You be the priest,
I'll respect you, no matter what.

You be the plant,
I'll be the rain and will shower you to grow.

You be the pen,
I'll be a diary, tell me what you do for a living.

You be the eyeglasses,
I'll be needing you to see clearly.

You be the air,
I'll be needing you to breathe.

You be the light,
I'll be the tunnel, you're the only hope I see.

You be everything,
I'll be nothing without you.

You be my life,
I'll die if you go away.
Ami Bear Aug 2011
My life has been miserable for years now.
Been long separated with family,
An outcast to the home lived with,
Emotionally distressed, wanting to be loved.

One day, down the road,
While walking on the filthy side of the street,
There's a shadow from a distance,
Facing towards me.

An eye to an eye,
With a smile on his face,
Waving his hand,
As if he was waiting for me.

As I step closer to where he was standing,
It feels like I'm floating.
I can't explain,
But there's joy I feel inside.

The curved road, seemed going straight.
The loud sound from nowhere,
Stopped by the angels singing right next to my ear,
With warm and melodic voices.

The monstrous images of the crowd,
And sharp eyes pointing on me,
Disappearing one by one.
And the filthy road, changing to garden-like aisle.

As I face the man and look closer,
I can clearly recognize his face.
He handed me his cold hand,
And said, "You deserve to be loved."

The man waiting for me is willing to give everything,
Just to see me smile.
The man who will love me,
When no one else does.

The man waiting for me,
Is the man who was crucified.
Our brother and savior,
Is the man waiting for me.
Ami Bear Aug 2011
Alone in the room with chilling bones,
Room filled with lies softly spoken.
Whispering in my ears,
By the bloodlines of liars.

My heart beats fast.
My flesh clenches in.
The world is turning fast.
Still, I stay tormented and tortured.

All the tears been cried,
Shared with pillows and blanket at night.
And the seeds of pain remains,
Grew between this filthy chest.

The shadow of the past,
The years of long suffering,
It's about time to let go
And face tomorrow with bravery.

Today I will stand tall,
With feet firmly touching the ground.
Today I will not fear,
I will fiercely fight.
Ami Bear Aug 2011
I'm not a good writer,
Not one little bit.
My words don't rhyme,
My lines aren't chime.
I’m a bipolar,
And a ****-a-hoop too.
Sometimes, I talk a lot--
    literally, profane and sarcastically.
Sometimes, I keep my mouth shut,
Bring out a paper and a pen.
Draw and write,
Whatever it may be.
I'm not a good writer,
But I have a colorful life--
    colors of bliss,
    of love,
    of pain,
    of suffering,
    of blatant situations,
    of blasphemy.
That's all that matters,
And that I want to share with you.
I know,
I'm not much a poet,
But life, forces me to write.
"I'm not much a poet, but life's pushing me to write."

— The End —