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People like to bother me because I am short.
They don't realize that though my physique may be small,
I'm short when I'm angry.
There is no use for flowery, flowing phrases.
I say what I mean, or at least what I mean for the moment.
I hope to hurt you, but only for a second.
I don't realize words are stoves,
                                                          though you touch them briefly, they leave burns.
Don't burn me.
We didn't
meet at the
right moment.
We make sense
though
you and me
me and you.
Things would
never
fit together
like we'd want
and I know that.
I need you
to think of me.
You are the
big dipper
and I can know you
every night
when I lay in my yard.
But for you I am
the harvest moon
and I can only be seen
if you do it with purpose.
I'd rather be the
warm breeze on your face
so you can
remember me
the way I was.
 Oct 2012 Gemini Baker
Whiskurz
I wonder if the trees could talk
Would they tell about the breeze?
Would they talk about the sunshine?
Or of their many different leaves?

Would they talk about that woodpecker
That's roosted on their limb?
Or maybe devise a brilliant plan
To rid themselves of him

Would they tell us of their thirst?
And celebrate the rain
Would they talk about their fear of fire?
And how they hate the flame

Would they talk about the winter?
How it robs them of their shields
As the winter breeze scatter their leaves
Across the barren fields

Would they talk about the summer heat?
And the sacrifices they've made
As they hold their limbs high and stong
To cast our needed shade

Would they talk about their Creator,
Who rules from Heaven above
And profess undying gratitude
And their never ending love?
 Oct 2012 Gemini Baker
Whiskurz
Every teardrop tells a story
As its running down our cheek
The sound it makes cannot be heard
For its voice is much too weak

Listen to a teardrop fall
But listen with your soul
The silent screams of broken hearts
Is a sound you can't console

Teardrops are a language
That's spoken from the heart
An endless stream of liquid pain
That hurts right from the start

Tears are often misunderstood
As a cleansing of the soul
But they leave scars that go unseen
When the pain begins to flow

Tears are filled with part of us
A part we try to hide
They can come from many places
To show what's hidden inside

Every teardrop tells a story
That most will never hear
For they don't understand the language
That's spoken by a tear
 Oct 2012 Gemini Baker
Whiskurz
Free
 Oct 2012 Gemini Baker
Whiskurz
A poem can be a heartbeat
Or just a simple smile
Meant to mend a broken soul
That's smothered with denial

It can be about forgiveness
Words your lips can't speak
"I'm sorry" written on paper
That solace that you seek

It can be about the sunshine
Or the tears that's in the rain
Maybe a long lost memory
That fills your heart with pain

It can be about relationships
Written with your pain
Built on broken promises
With the lies that now remain

A poem can tell us who we are
Or who we used to be
But most of all a poem is written
To set our emotions free

— The End —