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 Jan 2015
Ivy Rose
This is something very hard.
Something I hold inside.

This is something very pure.
Which makes it hard to hide.

Tell me why they do this?
Why they force us both to lie?

When it's their own fears they've implanted,
Into all of their own minds.

For there are those who do not know me,
And there are those who try.

But for the sake of those below me,
Our love should never die.

Oh then kiss me my sweet angel,
As we are sent to our demise.

For this beautiful lie I hold within me is ready now,
To fly.

And before we go,
I make it so that happiness survive.

Poor foolish souls they did not know,
Our love is our only lie.


(i.r)
 Jan 2015
Peter Cullen
The forest hides so many things,
the leprechauns,
the fairies wings,
among the life that nature brings,
listen to the warbler sing.
And all along the forest trails,
raindrops pour
as nature sways,
each thing on its own sweet way,
passing with the grace of day.
Capture it inside your mind,
trap it well within your core.
The forest lives
and breaths with time,
always leaves you wanting more.
Lost upon the forest floor.
 Jan 2015
DC raw love
i would rather die on my feet
than live on my knee's

*he died for freedom of expression
 Jan 2015
Nat Lipstadt
that the trending tags,
for but a single day,
banished the perennials,
all celebrated the occasion
with a rousing wake and
an indecent burial

out **** spots,
sad, pain, heartbreak and depression,
in the closet, once a year, annual,
as for death,
it's ugly head,
cutoff, spiked and disliked,
in the tower displayed

for twenty four, de minimus,
on a day mutual selected,
we compose only
of the beauty, and the kindness
in each and all of us
In honor of Pradip
 Jan 2015
Dark n Beautiful
We gave because we feel that we must
We gave because we know it’s the right thing to do
We gave because we were corner into giving
We gave from the kindness of our hearts

Giving is not always a fear exchange.
occasionally we get shortchange
Giving is a guilty conscience: you give me something
I have to return the favor. Some givers like to
stay out of the limelight:  that’s me
it’s best way out :  no acceptance speech

No you
“shouldn’t have,
it was so generous of you
You are so kind to think of me".

Giving is like uncut rough diamond,
it never sparkles until it polish
A diamond was believed to protect the wearer from the Devil, as well as the Plague: Quote

http://poetsintheattic.com/viewforum.php?f=6
 Dec 2014
Craig Harrison
Love is when you are missing some of your teeth
but you're not afraid to smile
because you know your friends will still love you
even though part of you is missing

Love is when your hair is falling out
but you don't wear a wig
because you know your friends will still love you
even though part of you is missing

Love is when you lose your arms and legs
but you don't hide away
because you know your friends will still love you
even though part of you is missing

Love is when people accept you for who you are
and you can relax and breathe free
because that's what love is
Inspired by Emma k aged 6

I don't know this person but it was something I read online (first 4 lines) and I thought it was very cute and true and I wanted to share it with you
 Dec 2014
Joe Cole
Why rainbow poetry?
Well I look at the poetry on this great site
As being like a rainbow
At one end of the spectrum the soft gentle
Colors of our young teenage writers
Through the stronger colors of writers like Sverre
And Jonny Angel
Then the brash bold colors that are Jack
And Stephen E Yokum
BUT
The beauty of a rainbow is that those colors
Mingle and blend to form many other colors
That is the wonderful thing about this site
So many poets writing within strictly defined lines
But somewhere those lines soften and the line
Becomes less destinct
That's POETRY
 Nov 2014
Jack
~

I prayed for light, He sent me sun
I prayed for moisture, He sent me dew
I prayed for beauty, He sent me flowers
I prayed for love, He sent me you
 Nov 2014
Anand
clouds of words
from places diverse
come floating to the sky, soaking my heavy mind

they are unconnected and meaningless
stray birds wingless
kept in cage of isolation, no relation to find

when brought together
held close by a tether
they mix up to join, combine and bind

then in a pattern they flow
rise high, fall low
dancing with passion, in a rhythmic fashion aligned

a story they tell
in my thoughts that does dwell
feelings get expression, sincere confession, to soul they're affined

not seeking perfection
but creativity and introspection
my humble quill, tries to spill, colors of several  kind

my flawed verse is terse
in emotions it's immersed
it portrays a view, connects with you, as my heart unwinds
Inspired from 'When you write' by Pradip Chattopadhyay.
I guess this is how I write poems.
how do you go about it
when you write a poem
scribble on a piece of sheet
then think about a name?

or do you just tap the keys
seek a clue to start
your way to save the trees
yet find a vent to heart.

do you sit tightly stiff
intent on the screen
or shuffle in the strong belief
they would pour the way you mean.

how do you find the time
or do you have enough
to betwixt work catch a rhyme
grab the thoughts by scruff.

do you write all alone
without a soul around
in a place quiet to the bone
but for your clicking sound.

or you have but little choice
to be by yourself in a room
yet bud a poem from the noise
grow it to full bloom.

my mind ponders the questions above
but the least I can do is to brood
how you pen a poem of love
that makes me feel so good.
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