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 Dec 2018
Amanda Francis
Even a great, wise oak is not fully alive.
The dying parts of its insides toughen up to become protection.
Even when cuddled up under its shade, you can't touch its soul.
You carved your name into my sides, so I knew what hollow meant when you left.
 Dec 2018
Ivan Brooks Sr
Yesterday I lost a poem.
It took me hours to write.
So,has anyone seen a poem?
I titled it Aurora Borealis.
It was brief and beautiful,
Well written and insightful.

The poem was immaculate
Done in tribute to nature.
This is very weird I know,
Because it's never been done?
So pardon my action,
Result of my frustration.

So,if you see a green light,
Cocooned in ghostly neon,
Bordered in a frosty white dress,
Flash dancing across the sky,
Do have me informed at once.
Or sit back,watch and be amazed.

For those who need to know,
Aurora is like nature's showgirl.
Some call her the Northern light.
She appears when it's chilly cold,
When the night is quiet and starry,
She comes out like a luminous ghost.

IB-Poetry©
20/12/2018
True story..I wrote a very beautiful piece...can't find it anywhere!
 Dec 2018
Melissa Rose
Read between the lines
of any word left unspoken
and you will find me reposed
inside the oceans of space
in the prophetic distance
of time
Infinitely aligned
with the truth
of Love’s
perfection
12/17/18
 Dec 2018
Seema
I don't know what I lack
Whether it's my words
Or the way I express
Is it the slack tone
Of the rhymes that
Don't really rhyme
Perhaps, it's the format
That's not done right
From left to right align
The words hold on tight
An image painted
A reel of story played
Yet, the characters seem dead
And that's where, I fade
While putting all the words I had
From my mind to the pad
Without thinking,
I spill my life
In your hands - the ink


©sim
Spilling thoughts.
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