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Poetry has a sensitive soul
A drive and impulse
Telling stories the way they are
Feelings of soberness
A heart felt word

Poetry has a sensitive heart
Beautifully immense
A heart of gold
Giving values to life
Adding years to life: Poetry is beautiful

Poetry has a sensitive soul
Like streams that meanders slowly
Like a river glorious: It Flows
Poetry has a sensitive heart,
A beautiful soul; A flying Angel.

Poetry is the signal
that
The soul sends into the world
Like the river, it flows into the sea,
yet the sea never gets filled.

Poetry is the fluid for the soul,
The liquid for the yearning of the Mind
That which quenches the fire
Feeding the deepest desires
Poetry is Gold in essence

Ovi Odiete©
May you find SOLACE AND BLISS in POETRY and may it be a MUSE for your Living.

I am thrilled that this little poem of mine has been chosen for THE DAILY POEM (19/July/2016)
Thank you all and thanks to HELLOPOETRY.
Regards, Ovi.
you tell me
you'd rather leave
than smell the smoke that lingers on my skin

you tell me
that i can't be happy
when all i have is nicotine and halfhearted lies

you tell me
not to play with fire
because i might burn myself to the ground

but what you don't realize
is i am a wildfire
and i want
to burn
((out))
inspired partially by Alaska Young
I don't think I'll write
A suicide note.

What an obvious
Statement, when
I'm plainly not
Contemplating suicide.

But I never liked the idea
Of suicide notes.

And it was not
The idea that
Somebody had
Killed themselves.

It was the idea that
Somebody could have such a sad
Life that they could fit
All they had to say into one letter.
Copyright 11/19/15 by B. E. McComb
tell them i was the
warmest place you knew
and that



you turned me cold
Mistrust.

The mistrust in a dying relationship
discolours love's eyes,
feels no reproof from past mistakes,
abuses kindness,
makes of togetherness an irritation,
turns truth to bland lies
and stands aside from communication
when one of two tries.
The breath of dead passion penetrates
beyond depth of ties
and wrecks with renewed realization
of non-compromise
while the mouth of rejection suffocates
taste for testing goodbyes,
not caring what strain lies in isolation.
Regret deeply sighs
when love retreats into disintegration.
I feel like an anchor sinking down to the bottom of the sea.
A strong hold that's taken grasp upon me.
I know I can fight my way above the water.
But somehow I keep sinking down further and farther.

At that moment I realized it might be the end.
And every time I feel my body let go, I'm back above the surface once again.
I don't know what my purpose in life is.
So I stare at myself in the mirror just looking into my iris.

Nothing but pitch black, a sky without stars.
A boy covered in scars,
Someone with heart;
Who's been torn apart.
"Lassen Sie den Ozean zu nechmen Sie mich" - Joel Birch
If I can remember all of the things
We've said to each other
I would like to make those into a song

I would like to play it everyday
           So I can hate you

If I can remember all of the things
We've done together
I would like to make those into a movie

I would like to watch it everyday
            So I can hate you

                     But
You were a masterpiece
The best rhyme
The best melody
The best lyrics
The best harmony
             I've ever heard

But
You were a masterpiece
The best actor
The best cinematography
You were the best art,
            I've ever watched
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