If I close my eyes, you're there behind my lids.
If I take a deep breath, you're in my lungs.
If I smell a familiar smell you're in my sense and memory.
If I watch closely, I expect to see you by my side.
If I look at where you walked, I remember the joy.
If I bury my head in the soft silky fur of my other fur babies,
with my eyes squeezed shut and run my hands over their bodies,
I feel you, smell you, and imagine for a fleeting second that it is you.
But, it's not you baby girl.
And whilst my love for my two fur babies here is strong,
I miss the gentle soul that was you.
You alone could make me laugh, cry and taught me pure love.

With a quill over paper
For muse, we are excavators
We pour out our hearts
So joy, love, peace to impart
To hold a torch over emotional darkness
To fill each others hollowness
Its for the love we write

When we write
We are called poets
A name fitting and right
But your theft just says you are mentally poor
Reducing you further to a mere thief
And nothing close to a P
Not to talk of a poet.

The moon is not a thing you can steal
Trust me its pure folly
That's a dumb idea to conceive
Posting others' poems
Posting like a poet?
Like seriously
How does that sound to 'your' hearing?
DUMB
Even so, to even dare, you must be too dumb to realize its dumb

To acknowledge is not so hard
Its just adding one more line on your pad
I want to deceive myself that you are not too dumb to know that
If you didn't know, now you do.

PS: You could post my poem
That does not make you a poet
It just makes you a thief
Suffice it to say, the worst kind
Without robbing me of the fact that I'm a POET

There's more to this,
This thing we call living.
Everyone's all about the take,
What happened to the giving?

We take what we can
And still we want for more.
Receive one or two of something
While wanting three or four

There's gotta be another way,
A way to be grateful.
But when we don't get what we want
Everyone acts so hateful

There's a feeling of being owned,
Before we've done anything
A song that needs to be sung
That we can't even sing

Lyrics to write down
To give our thanks and praise.
But instead we wallow,
Depressed for days and days.

*This might just sound like
A difficult way to live,
But wouldn't be great to take what we take
And give all we have to give.

oh, it could be such a lovely distraction.
cavalier bandaging binding unclean wounds
pain? your tragic torment, worsening beneath
faux perfection. the sternest ivy inclines
tangling, reaching for golden lifelines.
a strange comfortable fog mist muffling
echoes drowning pathways. you were always
a fog, a deep hungry cloud
i didn't realize

I loved the way you
held me,
started that lovely
trickle
           down
                     effect
with your delicious mouth.
Some said you were precocious,
but I told them you went down
deeper than that,
were so very precious
& extremely dreamy.

Our love is a road trip
We take long rides to the unknown

I share a bed
With anxiety
It's no wonder I can't sleep.

A poet,
One of our best,
Got far
Inside himself.
He LOL a lot,
Used emoticons
And dots,
To share
Personal thoughts;
Then he forgot
His name.

A pseudonym's
A precarious thing;
Its acronym
Might fool you.
But a nom de plume
Becomes you,
Like Twain, Orwell
Or Seuss.
So, when your writing
Takes you far,
It's important
To remember
Who you are.

Poem Thief beware we are watching you.
You may steal our words, but you will not steal our resolve
There is another thing that you can not steal which is our Love and support for each other
You may think that you are invisible but you are not
Many eyes are watching you
What you think you do in silence could come to light in public someday
Just as good deeds become known, woe to the one doing bad deeds, someday they have to pay a very high price
I hope that if you read this, you will be nice and give proper credit to the Author's of the poems you stole
I also feel I should warn you that with every poem you steal, you might be losing a piece of your soul