holidays like these make me feel empty

If poetry dies
We all fall apart.
If poetry dies,
Will the sun not shine anymore?
Because the sun is poetic in its own way.
It radiates.
It illuminates.
It inspires.
And if poetry dies
Art dies.
Poetry is everything.
Its existed for centuries.
See this is brought people together since forever ago.
And today, it brings us together.
you and me
And whoever else's poems you delight yourself with.
We create a community.
Here
On this site.
People from all over the world.
Each of us with a story to tell
And one talent we show
poetry
Isnt it great?
A tradition that must live on.
The art of emotion
Some complex
Others delightfully simple.
Poetry
Creates us,
Our creativity
And the desire to write something new
Something **great

I had a chance to step back
And look at the world,
I was disgusted at what I saw
But loved every bit of it.

Why do I try so hard
To keep you in my life
When clearly you have no desire
To be in it?

Her skin
Soft like a newborn.
Her legs wrapped around my waist.
Her eyes are staring into mine
I see the stars forming.
In her cornia.
Her body heat
Slowly elevating mine.
Her lips tight against mine.
She is all I've ever wanted
And here she is
Upon my waist.
Upon my body
upon my mind
Here she is,
Her muscles tightening
Her breathing rapidly quickening
Her soul flying
Her lovely sighing.
She is all I've ever wanted
She looks so perfect tonight.
She seems to always know
just what I like.
Her chest up against mine
Her heartbeat strong
Her breaths now so long.
And it is everything for me
Not to lose myself.
She is all I've ever wanted
She is the one for me
And she cried the day
I got on one knee
Here we are
Alone tonight
My hands on her curves
Her hands gripping tight
She is
Suduction
But my, I dont mind
She can have her way
After all
She is all I've ever wanted

I have serious intentions
To break my limitations