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My pen dances,
Across the paper.
Words pour out,
Of this once empty mind.

My stomach churns,
At this feeling,
Of joy,
For writing fairy tales.

My smile is so bright,
And wide as a flowing river.
My eyes shine and sparkle so much,
They could replace stars.

The music entering my ears,
Sends my body dancing.
Still with pen and paper in hand,
My soul screams out loud it's greatest fears.

The happiness inside me,
Sprinkles bliss around the room.
The smell of Exhilaration,
Signals my heart to start jumping.

I can't believe,
That this amazing talent,
Can do so much to me.

But, hey, that's poetry.
This is one heck of a ****** poem. I was just telling my friend how I don't have a life, so I decided to write this out on paper. Not much of a life though, still :P
  Sep 2014 Bipolar Hypocrite
Helen
Hey guys

I have found several Daily Poems from this site being shared externally with no acknowledgement to the rightful owner :(

Head over here....

http://thepoetryden.wordpress.com/author/thepoetryden/

and if you find your original work there then I highly encourage you ask this person to either a) link the poem back to your original or b) remove them from his site. He claims to be a poet and is misleading people by not putting original names/original links to the works he is posting!

Go through them carefully as the titles of the poems have been changed.

Please share this because I have read at least 3 poems from this site from 3 different people over there with no acknowledgement to the original author!

Update ~ Sept 6th 2014 ~ You are NOT going to believe this. I found Shane Linville on Facebook and you will never guess who is one of his favourites! Chris G Vaillancourt! That's right, the very same well known plagiarist from days gone by at HP. He was such an insidious piece of work

*******! Not the way I'd like to see my name next to a Daily Poem but getting the awareness out there is a nice thing too :)
Update... To those listed below with stolen poetry who can't access the link to the blog because its been made private you can still contact word press to advise them and they can check the blog to make sure it's been removed. His name is Shane Linville! I'm just sorry I didn't have time to go through everything he had posted :(
The link above contains the following stolen poetry (that I know so far)
Indifference by Purple Orchid is posted as Her Soul
The Bells of Civilizations Ring by Sjr1000 is posted as World of Disease
Morning Light by Silas is posted as Morning Light (no name change but no link to the original)
I am Stone by imadeitallup (no name change but no link to the original)
A Fool for You by MYstro mAdden posted as Your Love
These a just a few... If you know any of the above poets... please share with them
I take off my coat and stomp the snow off my shoes.
Trip over the rug and instantly bruise.
Glance up at the stack of medical bills, next to the various bottles of pills.
Crawl into bed to drift away.
Ready to escape another horrid day.
and right when conciseness started to vanish.
There's a knock on the door,
A little Spanish girl I'd never seen before.
"Sorry, wrong house."
She says in a heavy accent.
I notice her knit gloves are frozen
On her hands, made perfectly for imprints in cement.
And I wonder
If she ever made art with her hand prints when she was a kid,
I don't know, maybe she was better than that.
But for some reason, I want her to make me one of those hand print crafts.
So I say, "But this house has a fireplace, come on in."
She steps inside and laughs.
I pull the frozen knit gloves off her tiny cold hands. and breath into them to make them warm.
My stomachs butterflies are flying in swarms.
Then she sees the the pills and asks "what are all these?"
My heart sinks
"Don't worry about it, just forget it...please"
Her eyes drop and get wide when she sees the bruise on my knee.
And for the first time she really sees me.
I know how she must feel.
getting in on the short end of a sick deal.
Or maybe she can't believe that it's real.
she just pulls up her sleeve, and shows me her wrist.
A hospital bracelet with bold type reading flight risk
I start to tell her she needs to go back.
And feel my cheek turning red from her slap
she says "I'm sorry, Just don't make me go..Nobody want's to die alone."
I don't know if it was the needy look in her eye,
Or the helplessness in her tone.
But you should know that
She didn't die alone.


© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Another story from a male's perceptive.
It's funny, 
How a girl who has talents to stand out, is unnoticed. All the time. 

She sits down silently,
Counting the hours 'till it ends,
While everyone looks past her,
As if she was a ghost.

'Am I invisible?' She asks herself.

She counts,
Everyone acknowledging smile,
Hoping they finally see her,
But is yet to be disappointed, again.

People wave at her,
When she's alone.
But that's all the attention she gets,
That's all she has.

She silently cries,
She knows it's pathetic,
But she only wants to be known,
To be a somebody

Dreams of being famous,
Standing onstage.
But sadly realizing,
It's just a fake.

The one person she loves,
Is wrapped in his own world.
A world where she's the background,
A world where she doesn't exist.

So, it's fair,
These tears streaming down her face,
She wants to stand out,
Be different.

She tries so hard,
With her polite smiles,
Her funny tone,
But it's not good enough.

So, she writes it down,
To the world.
Where people don't see her face
But her words, for once.

She can show her true colors,
Through things she loves,
Which is poetry,
Posted to the universe.

She prays,
That there is someone reading,
Someone who sees through her words,
Gets the clue,
Helps her.

All she has to do, 
Is wait.
But that's what she has been doing,
For her past life.

These tears are for something more,
Something that matters to us all,
But we find it so easy,
That we forget that there are people,
Who can't.

So, I write it down,
To the world.
Where people can't see my face,
But my words, for once.

I write, because I want you to know,
This world will never be perfect.
*Never
Unnoticed.
Unnattractive.
Unrealistic.
Unbelievable, hey?
Wait a minute, I think I've figured it out.
You hate me, while I love you.

Guess the feeling isn't mutual.
I'm feeling gloomy. Sigh.
She's dead,
The one who loved me and gave me care.
She held me in her arms when safety was rare.

She's gone.
All my hopes drained. She was my everything and kept me maintained.

She'll never come back.
She was my everything, put me in front of her.
She was all I had, forever.

She's no more.
My life has ended, has no meaning?
I'll have no peace, no reasoning.

I Love her.
My mother's dead, she always made my day. Now she's gone,
I have no more to say.
Just another one of my old works
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