this is
                                                     a poem of a
                                     bird, a duck to be tota-
                                        lly specific .Although
                                                       ­    there might
                                                          not seem any-                                                          
  ­                                                        thing that duck-ish about this poem as you read
                                                           it, it will soon occur to you (if it has not already) that  
                                                           this poem is really very special since it is not only
                                                             about a duck but it is in the shape of a duck...
                                                         ­     You see this duck is called Gershwin and he
                                                              ­    likes splashing in puddles so that is  
                                                                ­       what                 makes          
                                                 ­                         he ,                  him
                                                                ­         does               happy
                                                           ­                 all                  bec-
                      ­        this is   ...                             day                ause
                        supposed to be a                     long .              he
                   puddle .Yes it is and          and   that  ,         is a duck!
                      a     .......    too   ........                                              
                          ...........   ....... ... .
                             splash                                                           ­                   
  
                      
                                                   look below......
                                                     ­                  ......
                                                          ­   ......  ..................
                                      ­                         ......................
                                          ­                        ..............
                          ­                                            .......
             ­                                                            .




                                                       * this is the most weirdest poem i
                                                    have ever written and its just so RANDOM*
                                                         ­       ;p

The free bird leaps
        on the back of the wind
    and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
   in the orange sun rays
     and dares to claim the sky.

       But a bird that stalks
        down his narrow cage
         can seldom see through
          his bars of rage
             his wings are clipped and
               his feet are tied
        so he opens his throat to sing.

                 The caged bird sings
                    with fearful trill
                of the things unknown
                  but longed for still
                and his tune is heard
                  on the distant hill
                 for the caged bird
                 sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

                                                                                       But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
                                                                                        his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
                                                                                    his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
                                                                               so he opens his throat to sing

                                                          The caged bird sings
                                                   with a fearful trill
                                                             of things unknown
                                                       but longed for still
                                                                     and his tune is heard
                                                    on the distant hill
                                                              for the caged bird
                                                             sings of freedom.

In my dream
I saw

A world
Free of
Violence
Terrorism
Hunger
Suffering
Chaos...

And a world
Filled with
Love
Compassion
Freedom
Peace
Happiness...

Now awake
In this world real
I pray
Let my dream come true...

Promise Yourself

To be so strong that nothing
can disturb your peace of mind.
To talk health, happiness, and prosperity
to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel
that there is something in them
To look at the sunny side of everything
and make your optimism come true.

To think only the best, to work only for the best,
and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others
as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past
and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful countenance at all times
and give every living creature you meet a smile.

To give so much time to the improvement of yourself
that you have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear,
and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world,
not in loud words but great deeds.
To live in faith that the whole world is on your side
so long as you are true to the best that is in you.