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roses are red
night is dark
writing this poem
hurts my heart

shaky sobs
like violets, i'm blue
i'm wondering
why i ever loved you
to ends and beginnings
 Feb 2018 Mike Hauser
Latina1813
We are all poets
We all spit it
One time or another
We all **** with words
And sometimes commit ******
We all are poets
In a sense
When our words turn luscious
And resemble hymns
When our words inspire
Awakening angels and sometimes demons
We are all poets
I have no doubt
Ive been spoken to
And felt
The words so deep
Touch wounds stitched up neat
Touch hearts last beat
Make heart skip beat
And repeat
And i know it
We are all poets
Maybe unfinished ....
I will always look up to you,
And admire you,
Just as I do
The magnificent stars
In the magical night sky.

~ Always.

By Lady R.F. (C)2018
Only very few people
Truly knew her -
Others never
Took the time.

If they would have been asked
To say something about her,
They wouldn't have been able
To write more than one line!

~ A sad eulogy.

Lady R.F. (C)2018
 Feb 2018 Mike Hauser
Mykenzie
My past isn't full of butterflies,
or rainbows.
If I had to describe it,
I'd sayit was more of thunder storms,
and lightning.

Maybe that's why I love storms,
Why I love to sit out in the rain.
Why I'd rather have a stormy day over a rainy day.

I woudn't change my past.
Its who I am,
and who I will become
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