If my devotion to work will bring me success,
I will not sleep until I see it coming my way.
I am obsessed,
Only if my hard work will pay.

My fist so small,It cannot roll a ball,
For I just grow tall,
But never waity at all!

When life go tough,
And all i afford is a cough,
I go out to plough,
Out of the fields I come with flour.

My fist so weak
I depend on it though,
Life to face so courageous
And make achievements
Out of my small fist!

Rain drops showers me and I love them
They hide my tears and wash my face
They shake my muscles and I love it
They hide my fears that shake me.

For years as it rains
I walked in the rain during downpours
I loved the scences in the rain
And maybe my success lied there...

People liked to see me wet my shirt
In showers that were tears
I kept crying for long,
And I grew a skekoton
I became a center of interest
And I was shy

But like hope rain fell
And I was a sprout of hope!
As i lead my life,
As I live it,
Whatever the course ,
I know in the begining I was nothing ...
Then HOPE sprouted in my skeleton

I am air,invisible but in existence
I am a flower,nice but perishable
I am water ,colorless but important
I am a poet,many lines but mean
I am a frog,noisy but deep under water.
I am a...
I am a...

I have little about life
Maybe on a count of two
Not because I've not lived it well ,
In fact, I find it ambiguous not to classify it.

Sweet is life
It is a choice to lead it sweet,
A stress free life,
Choosing to count blessings
Celebrating success
Avoiding strainous activities
Life of optimists, life that has prosperity

Life can be pepper
Not sweet but boring
Strainous and tiring
Long and unending
Life of pessimists, life that has no direction.

In short,life is a choice
You live it or leave it
You decorate it or deteriorate it
You blossom it or just leave it dry.

I call it life,a personal choice

Write a poem for me
A poem to cool my burning head
A poem to wipe my flowing emotion
A poem to heal my hurting heart.

It should be short but complete

Not a must be rhyme
It should be soothing,
I'll love a lullaby,
Can you make a good one?

I am patiently waiting.

Sometimes, times that count and are rare
I think,thoughts that are funny
Perhaps, and I always find it true
In my past i had more gold medals, but were useless
For in them,and I have proved,was vanity .
I used, and it was a strain,
All I had to plan a future that I saw
Lucrative though,had a survival sense,
Today,happy enough , all the bad gold gave room to my real MEDALS.
Fake friends die the smooth way