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 Jul 2013 Danielle K
modelb0nes
I was a traveler.
She was a poet.
l visited almost half of the world.
She wrote about it.
I loved to wonder.
She was wanderlust.
I've been from North to West,
from Australia to Antarctica.
She saw them from her computer screen.
I loved her,
as much as I loved to travel the world.
She loved me as if I was the world..
or something. Though in my eyes,
she didn't even compare to the Eiffel tower
or the great wall of China.
She was much more majestic.
She said she could write about me all day.
I said I could explore every inch of her,
every day. And although I traveled everywhere
and anywhere you could imagine,
she was by far my favorite tourist attraction.
She was my world.
She was the whole world.
In a day.
Hair reigns, scent of her,
She sleeps late by a window,
Morning meadow sun.
 Jul 2013 Danielle K
inez
him
 Jul 2013 Danielle K
inez
him
It was his first day at school
I noticed him amongst a crowd of people
I passed him in the hallway and
I admired his hair
At lunch I spoke and
He told me of his day
He smelt like home and he looked like it too.

It was our second year at school
I noticed him amongst a crowd of new people
I glanced at him in the hallway and
I noticed he altered his hairstyle
At lunch I cried and
He told me it would be okay
He smelt like mystery and he looked mysterious too.

It was our third year at school
I noticed him amongst the crowd that do silly things
I peered at him in the hallway and
I noticed he had covered his hair with a hood
At lunch I spoke and
He sneered and left
He smelt a lot older and he looked it too.

It was our fourth year at school
I noticed him amongst the crowd I'd been warned about
I darted from him in the hallway and
I noticed he had grown his hair to cover his eyes
At lunch I sat in silence and
He ridiculed me
He smelt like cigarettes and he looked like he hadn't a clue.

It was his fifth year at school
He drifted from the crowd every one knows about
People shift away from him in the hallway and
They notice his hair covers his sunken eyes
At lunch he sits in silence and
They ridicule him
He smells like regret, because I left too soon.
I envy the feathers,

I envy the sea.

I envy the world,

for the world is not

me.

*-lf-
© Leelan Farhan.
    August 30 2011.
written a while ago, but is how I'm currently feeling.
Poems aren't always written
With a paper an pencil
They aren't always typed
In ink and with a signature
Sometimes poems are written
With the lips of a teary-eyed lover
Or the laughter of a young hospital patient
Or even the silence of two comfortable friends
 Jul 2013 Danielle K
Traveler
Blue as the sky on a mid-winters day
Sharp as a knife that cuts through the haze
I seek a warm place in the arms of my love
I run after her as to catch a young dove
She catches the wind that blows from the sea
Now I'm growing old and she's growing free...

Wash away now these illusions of youth
Independent of madness, inconsistent with truth
So easy to remember yet harder to find
The ways of my youth when I was yet blind...
Traveler Tim
re to 07-17
 Jun 2013 Danielle K
Mike Hauser
Lackluster in appearance
Nothing much to gaze upon
If you were drawn to something special
This box would not be the one

Next to the box a note
Placed on the note a beautiful key
Inlaid with the most precious of jewels
A mind could ever dream

Riches beyond  all measure
Cloud your every thought
If the key it holds such treasure
What could be inside the box

As you unfold the note
Taken aback by what they wrote
If this key in the lock you do use
This very same key is the one you'll lose

So you sit and ponder the question
So long and hard you feel you could cry
Is the treasure in the key you hold
Or what is hidden inside

As the key slides in the box
You hold your breath then deeply sigh
An empty box before you sits
All except for the note inside

The note you remove and read
It all now can be plainly seen
The treasure you seek is not born of greed or pride
The true treasure in all is the treasure of life
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