Your face is always into sunshine;
It gives hope and clear aura to everyone.
The way your eyes say Hi whenever you smile;
It lessens up a bad vibe not just for awhile.

You are clothed with strength and dignity.
And you laugh without fearing the future and reality.
In the darkest days of your life;
I know you’ll stand tall to find the sunlight.

You won’t bloom to where you’ve planted.
I know you’ll explore more to get started.
It’s your goal for a better life to get;
Pursuing to reach your dreams and to be contented.

You are a flower that will not wither.
It’s because you know how to get yourself watered.
Even in cloudy days turned rainy.
You still know how to make yourself shiny.

Your influence is like spreading seeds;
Planting good vibes to the ones who are in need.
You are a sunshine that lightens up a day.
A sunflower that smiles, feeling like summer.

© Quenniebells, 2015

I should have told you to stop
Right before you jump
I should have told you to try
Right before you sob and cry.

I should have hugged you tight
Right before you go for the flight.
I should have kissed you goodnight.
Right before we have the fight.

I should have told you how much you mean to me
Right before you forget me easily.
I should have told you how you've changed me
Right before you hate me.

I should have told you how much I care
Right before you go blue and wander no where
And I should have told you how much I love you
Right before the day you forget and go.

© Quenniebells, 2015

The spark of passion ignites the heart, until it is engulfed in a conflagration of notions, as curiosity triumphs over caution.

The seed of wisdom, planted in fields of knowledge, is cultivated and refined in kingdoms of intellect to innovate speeches of freedom.

Blisters in sweaty palms, rubbing against the pen, as it drifts between the paths of future and past, where hope is met and joy is felt.

Consumed by epiphanies, the heart-beat is felt by trembling hands, squeezing the pen for inspiration, to bewilder imaginations, giving birth to new perceptions.

Perpetually perplexed
Painted poignant
Pictures praising
Potent preachers

The brush is rough and
sore from years of labour
even time has aged but the
paint remains favoured

Piously positioned
Proudly portrayed
Poets patiently
Perfecting parody

As I read the news today
The papers all are sad
They're starving in Bombay
Bombing in Iraq

People seeking shelter
From Communist Regimes
Back home is not much better
Brother shooting brother in the street

They're turning blue in Red China
With the pollutants that they breath
A population in the waiting
With millions in the street

Jumping off rooftops in Japan
Rather than disappoint
Growing Poppies in Afghanistan
To fill Americas needs and wants

Ebola ravaging Nations
In the heart of Africa
As race relations crumble
In the bowels of America

They say no news is good news
That rings so true today
As I crumble up the paper
Toss it in the trash and walk away...

can you hear it
that's the sound of nothing
the silent sound of nothing going on

can you feel it
that's the feeling
the feeling of nothing being read into this poem

can you see it
that's the dullness
the dullness in the recess, hiding out between every line

try not to waste it
as you taste it
the bitter sweet taste to the end of the rhyme

I'm horrified by atrocious images that consume my mind. Society is the devil without horns feeding me lies.
When the truth is, paedophiles hide behind the robes of the pope.
Pigs bath in the mud of corruption, assume high positions, incarcerate victims while the streets are flooded with villians.
I'm in a forest of lost souls and weeping spirits, where beauty is another fallen tree.
I realise that heroes are but words and words have become the heroes.