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Many people say
that life is nothing but a test,
they say we'll die long before
our souls truly get to rest.

I've heard some people say
that from birth
we are already doomed,
and that it's all down-hill
once our petals have bloomed.

I've also heard some people say
that we already live in hell,
and that heaven is only a fairytale,

I say...
feed positivity to your soul,
never give up on reaching for your goal!
Never stop looking up into the sky,
life is full of wonder,
let me tell you why...

You see,
we always get back what we give,
our energy is mirrored - it reflects the energy 
we, in turn, will receive - we control
how we see life
and how we choose to live.

To find our blessings
we have to see beyond the struggles,
YES!...as difficult as it is,
we have to stay positive
through all of life's hurdles.

Life is a gift!
Just look into any innocent child's
hope-filled eyes,
deep inside them
God has implanted unconditional love
in abundance  - I tell you no lies!

Our children carry
all of the strength and hope
that we will ever need,
they are the beating hearts
of our souls - for them we bleed!

They will continue to keep
our spirits alive,
they are a part of us - we live inside them;
there, we will never really die.
Because of them, we survive!

Life is a gift,
a miracle made from pure love,
it is so much more than just a test!
Look deep down inside,
you will find
a bottomless treasure chest!

Life is a precious gift!
Think positively,
your spirits will lift!

By Lady R.F ©2016
I wrote this to counteract my negative feelings tonight. It helped!
 Oct 2016
Mike Adam
Stood stock still
In cemetery

Gazing high

As ghosts from tombs
Emerge to dance
Macabre tunes

And with the light
Once more
To lay them down

Back down once more
To die
A pocket full
of sunshine
to share some pure delight,

A pocket full
of shiny stars
to save for a really dark night.

A pocket full
of fairy dust
to sprinkle on the needy,

A pocket full
of dragon's breath
to fire at the greedy.

A pocket full
of raindrops
to wash away any impurities,

A pocket full
of umbrellas
to protect you from your insecurities.

A pocket full
of rainbows
to brighten up your skies,

A pocket full
of moonlight
to reflect the magic in your eyes.

By Lady R.F ©2016
Repost
 Oct 2016
Paul Hardwick
Lady, please do not walk into the roses
As they will cut you
through
Take the cut
smile back at me
I blink again
one for you
and won for all
This system will **** you
Maybe no as beforeBe here Now

Same old thing
 Oct 2016
Mike Hauser
There are two of me out running loose
One that tries to do what's right
While the other acts the fool
It's been that way from the beginning
A smorgasbord of who is who
With the two of me out running loose

There are two of me with nothing new
One that says yes I can
With the other never sure what to do
While one is often called the winner
The other is bound to lose
With the two of me there's nothing new

There are two of me feel free to choose
The one that's made to play it straight
Or the other, cannon loose
You can clearly see the difference
There's no need for a clue
With the two of me feel free to choose

There are two of me and one of you...
 Oct 2016
Walter W Hoelbling
every now and then
I receive emails from former students
with pictures of their newborns

each time
I am deeply touched
that they feel
I would like to know
about their lives’ great events

I reply with loving mails
congratulating them
wishing them much joy
    and patience
with their adorable offsprings

it is just nice to know
that the people
whose lives you shared for a few years
are doing well
 Oct 2016
SG Holter
You owe me nothing but to breathe.
To remember how I tore my heart in
Two rendering a

Blood Eagle to stretch its wings and
Tickle our souls with its sticky feathers.
When I think of us, I see us as we were.

Other people than now.
Memories framing themselves like a
Fantastic painting the artist

Stepped back to admire, then died.
Hang me. Hang me before i hang
Myself.


Dramatically opposed to drama.
Uninterested infatuation.
Broke billionaire.

Mortal gods shaking divine hands
With decomposing composers,
Thanking them for the silence.

We were lovers and enemies, and
I'd still give my life and afterlife to
See you worship another as if I

Never left a fingerprint on this
Planet; resting as safely in arms that
Love you unendingly,

As we all lie sleeping; dreaming
In our own, stronger arms,  
Forgetting that even our loving

Is imaginary.
Death is awakening.
Rubbing the

Eyes of our souls and yawning,
We look up and smile at that which
All of this is a bleak and fleeting

Shadow of.
Plato knew.
When I wish to die, I do too.

This love is not Love.
It's all mud and air.
You owe me nothing but to breathe.
 Oct 2016
Paul Hardwick
Not walk
just talk, to me
it tells me all kinds of ****
like you have two new E-Mails
It's good to know I have inherited millions
but I think
my computer talks such ****
I think one day I will take it back
but 12 months is not over today
apparently
so it is not going back today.

I like the way it says the word, Paul
most sensuous
Still, it needs to go back
or will end up with all the others in my hall
and never talk anymore.

If I said, no more, apparently that would be a double negative
COOL  *******.
One for the Book,   P@ul ***.
 Oct 2016
ryn
If this tree
should ever come to fall

Let its gnarly limbs
point up to heaven

If its heart
should ever come to a stall

Let it die
with errors pardoned
and sins forgiven
 Oct 2016
okayindigo
My mother was a writer.
I remember her,
papers spread out upon a bed sheet in the sand,
stacked pebbles protecting her work from the wind
as I made drip-castles at the water's edge
and braided crowns from wild poppies.
I would run to her so she could
rub grape sunscreen into my sandy shoulders
and I asked her once,
“Mama,
is that poetry?”
and she said “No little one,
you are poetry,
this only tries to be.”
and I thanked her,
and ran back to the water
to search for flat stones to skip,
and thought no more of poetry.
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