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Analise Quinn Aug 2014
I shall not fear the
Dark, for the brightest of lights
Shines within my heart
Analise Quinn Jul 2014
The walk of life is hard,
And sometimes we skip
And sometimes we dance
And sometimes we stumble
And sometimes we fall.

People always tell us
That it could be worse
Or it could be harder,
But honestly,
Sometimes you just don't care.

And sometimes it seems deeper
When you think of how sadness
Makes you appreciate happiness.

But sometimes life is hard,
And you just wonder
How it could ever be happy again.

And sometimes you're happy,
But you're scared,
Because it could be taken
Away.

But life is tears,
And sighs,
And songs,
And laughter.

Life is sadness,
And sorrow,
And joy,
And happiness.

Because a baby's first footsteps
Are always followed
By a baby's first fall.

Flowers only come
After rain clouds,
And bright light,
And breaking through a shell.

Life is sweeter
After storms,
And bright times,
And breaking through your shell.
Analise Quinn Apr 2014
One day I'll see the world,
Have dust on my feet
From a thousand different lands.

I'll travel with dusty feet,
Musty books,
Camera in hand,
Adventure beckoning me on.

Maybe I'll have no home,
I'll be a wanderer-
Maybe we need more gypsies-
Maybe I'll have
Barely a penny to my name.
I'll spend it all on plane tickets,
I'll earn my roof and food
By telling stories,
Penning poems.

Maybe when I'm an old lady,
People will tell stories
Of the crazy girl
Who came from a town so small
She had to travel the world
To find out more
About who she was.

Maybe people will be talking
Before I've even left,
About the crazy girl
With crazy dreams
Who's going to do crazy things
And change a crazy world.

But being called crazy
Is a small price to pay
To do things no one's done.

It just means I realize
The stars aren't so far away
If you know how to believe.

It just means
I'll have stardust
On my feet
From a thousand different suns.
Analise Quinn Apr 2014
"Why are the poet's eyes always sad?"
A little girl asked me once.
She saw me furrow my brow,
And continued with her question.
"You see,
No matter how big you smile,
Or how hard you laugh,
There's always something there.
It's like you've found
The Great Sadness,
And you have to bear it all alone."

I nodded my head,
Fingers on my chin.

Why is it that the poet's eyes are
Always sad?

I'll answer your question
Like I did hers.

To be a poet,
You have to feel every emotion.

You have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And survive,
And you have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And die.

Poets have to know what it's like
To hear a baby cry for the first time,
And what it's like
To hear a mother sob,
Because her baby came quiet
And left without a fight.

We feel every
Great Happiness
And we find every
Great Sadness.

Why are poet's eyes always sad?

It's because the poet
Is always sad.

Once you find
The Great Sadness,
You can never rid yourself of it.

But if you look closely
In a poet's eyes,
You can always see
Happiness
And you can always see
Joy.

Because a poet
Has to feel every emotion,
He feels them all at once
And they can't be hidden.

In every poets' eyes,
You see happiness,
And you see sadness.
You see joy,
And you see pain.
You see love,
And you see loss.

Why are the poet's eyes always sad?

I think it is better to ask,
Why are the poet's eyes always smiling?
Analise Quinn Mar 2014
Whether or not you
Do what's right should never be
Dictated by man.
Analise Quinn Feb 2014
Lost in these dreams and reveries,
Hopes for you,
And wishes for me.

Dreams like snow,
Falling down,
Feet on the ground,
Head in the clouds.

Reveries like fire-light,
Warming my heart,
And thoughts like fireflies,
Floating through the dark.

Dreams and reveries,
Always abounding.

Head in the clouds
Because my feet
Are on the ground.

Breathing in
The biting cold,
Waking up new dreams.

Snowflakes in brown-black hair,
Dreams in bright-brown eyes.

Pink noses,
And blushing cheeks,
Bitter-cold hands,
And cold-cracked fingers.

Feet in the snow,
Head in the snow-clouds.

Still I am here,
Lost in these dreams and reveries.
Analise Quinn Jan 2014
There's poetry in his eyes,
And music in his footsteps.
Might write a whole poem based on this later but I really like this part.
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