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 87° 
Tiana Marie
She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.
 45° 
Amanda
If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til your phone is aglow.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that it was right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.
This is the first poem (that I have a copy of) i wrote that I actually thought was good. I was in seventh grade, twelve years old, and I wrote it for a newspaper competition. I knew it was really great but I didn't think I would beat all other applicants in the state in my age group. So you can imagine my surprise I'm sure when I DID win! That is the first time I was proud of my writing. So this one has a lot of special sentimental value. Thanks for reading.
 41° 
mks
she is the heaven
you would go to hell for
 40° 
Francie Lynch
If
If you were a book,
I'd read you again.

If you were a ride,
I'd wait in line.

If you were my dream,
I'd never awaken.

If you were a star,
I'd never look down.

If you were a flower,
I'd never look up.

If you were mine,
I don't know what I'd do;
But I'd do it.
 31° 
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
 17° 
Brandi R Lowry
Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.
For Ty & Des ❤️
 17° 
The Non-Poet
life is like
when you're
a little kid
and you
discover that
there is more
than twenty-four
crayons in the box
that there is
the possibility
of forty-eight colors
of sixty-four
of one-hundred and twenty
that there are
so many shades
of love and anger and peace and despair
and absolute bliss
and the ability
to express them all
are now
in the palm
of your hand

life is
colorful
beautiful
thought-provoking
lovely
soulful
heartbreak­ing
inspiring
and absolutely wonderful

every day is
a new sunrise
a new chance
to transform into
the butterfly you
want to be

go out there
and change the world, kid
 16° 
Star BG
Today I shall get high on life.
To feel the energy of wind,
hear birds sweet song,
dance upon sacred Mother Earth.

Today I shall take the drug of life.
To be grateful for all that life brings.
shinning a light upon difficult
situations.

Today I shall move in my power
To feel connected to source energies
and all the invisible allies present
who come to my aid.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life
to align with higher self
moving with the grace of self.
skyle Inspired me with her poem Crave for Freedom
Go ahead
hold me a little longer
than usual.
You say to me,
without using any
words at all,
"it should have been me,
its still me."
Like i don't already see
those sky blue eyes
every time i close my own.
Because we're still holding
on to god knows what.
Because it is you
and it will always be you.
 12° 
Brianna Love
Gorgeous is the woman
with storms in her eyes,
a bruised soul
and many scars
but still dares to open up,
to trust with her heart
and fall in love
that is a woman
who bleeds stardust
and cries
tears of pure love….
This is dedicated to a really sweet person that I know, who has no idea how strong she actually is.
Sweetie, you shine, keep shining!!
 12° 
skyler
people change everyday
so i vow to fall in love with you
every time the sun rises

s.s
 12° 
Madolyn
I’m a little addicted
to your hand in mine
my body leaning against yours
and the soft smile you have
while staring into my eyes

I’m a little addicted
to being close to you
the sweet smell of your perfume
and the way you nudge me
when you want attention

I’m a little addicted
to holding you in my arms
your body so close to mine
and tracing words on your skin
i love you so much

I’m a little addicted
to you
maybe i’m more than a little addicted
 12° 
Tiana Marie
If tomorrow was my last
I'd do nothing.
I wouldn't skydive
I wouldn't travel
I wouldn't do everything
I've ever wanted to do.

If tomorrow was my last
I'd do as always.
I'd get up
I'd read my bible
I'd go to school
and have an average day.

If tomorrow was my last
I'd act as normal.
I'd smile to others
I'd say "hello"
I'd do my best
as I try every day.

If tomorrow was my last
I'd tell no one.
I wouldn't shout it
I wouldn't scream it
I wouldn't sing it
from every single rooftop.

If tomorrow was my last
I'd never know it.
That's why my usual
day to day consists
of all things I love
the very most.

If tomorrow were my very last
what I do today would be enough.
It would make me smile
It would make me laugh
It would make me happy
Because I have learned always
to be content in the ordinary.
 11° 
Cana
My second favourite sentence is.
“I’m going to get coffee”
My favourite sentence is
“Would you like some too”
Notes
None
 10° 
zahra
when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?
⭐️

Reading is like
Sitting under
A canopy of trees
Listening to the humming of bees
Chirp of birds
A gentle breeze soothing the mind
Absorbing the warmth of the early morning sunshine
Being one with nature
A solitude
Undefined Peace

Writing is like
An ever flowing stream
Cascading rills
Sparkling placid waters
The essence of nature
The different seasons
Like a flurry of emotions
The moments lived
Reminiscing the times
The Moments to come
The moments one dreams
Different reasons
Wrapped in words ideal
Writing is Therapeutic
The essence of it all


⭐️
 9° 
Carina
When you were a young child,
you wore your naive head in the clouds.
The vastness of space was your limit,
there were no social norms to worry about.

Growing up they told you,
you should pretend that you don't care,
so when your hopes would get devastated,
disappointment could give you a spare.

And now you find yourself wondering:
when did I stop following my ambition?
The thing you regret most when you die,
is your passion's creeping omission.

Besides, how can you ever win a game,
that out of fear you did not participate in?
Without your dreams you're a soulless ghost,
like a concaved snake's skin.

If only you're bold enough to walk your own path,
alienated and without an established map.
You will soon realize that your passion's just waiting,
for your courage to close the gap.
I came to realize that in our society less people are brave enough to dream and follow their passions. No one should be judged by his ability to dream of what he/she can be. No one should have to feel ashamed to openly express what you are passionate about. It is courageous and commendable to pursue your goals.
Never forget you can be whatever you want if only you believe in yourself!
 9° 
Brianna Love
There are hearts that break
in silence, with tears
that nobody can see.

So maybe,
                just maybe…


Some tears demand
to be written by the poet's pen,
so others can find beauty
in that which makes us cry.

Maybe,
           just maybe…


The tears of the poets' pen,
unveils the beauty
of love and pain
giving comfort to others
that they’re not alone.

And then again
maybe,
          just maybe…


There will be times
that nobody
will understand your feelings…

Write them anyway
because they are still
so damn beautiful!!*

~
 9° 
Druzzayne Rika
Dreams end
when eyes open
to watch streams of light
coming through the window
               and the heat is only starting.

through the midday
we forget what dream it was
that kept the smile in deep sleep
the rising temperature gets to head
             and we realise we are too hopeful.

Simply by night
exhausted our thoughts
fighting sleep to have nutrition
to get back on the bed, have a sweet dream
            wishing not to wake up, dream to not end.
 9° 
Simon
Be
Be patient
Wait a little
Wait for a while

Be calm
Breathe a little
Rest for a while

Be mindful
Think a little
Think for a while

Be happy
Smile a little
Smile for a while
Advice to myself
No, she isn't a poet
has never inked one
she takes off my weight
gets my things done

so I have enough time
to afford in a way
the luxury of rhyme
clever wordplay!

No, she isn't a poet
not written one line
clean is her slate
sees I'm fine

so I have enough space
and hour of my own
to indulge the grace
of thoughts mind grown!

No, she isn't a poet
no way she would be
she does her best
to see I'm happy

so my words run smooth
poems are easy born
truth and half truth
are spun night and morn!

No, she isn't a poet
cares not a bit
from her toil's sweat
my poems birth sweet

poems aren't her art
in the sun and showers
she grows from her heart
our garden's best flowers!
A tribute to the great gardener she is.
(5 years on hp this day, thanks to all my poet friends, you gifted me a rewarding journey)
 8° 
Druzzayne Rika
Her eyes filled with love
her hand filled with magic
she knows everything
and would do anything for me
letting her dreams go
to make my dreams come true
and will rescue me
from the sea of problems
There's nothing she cannot do
She's my superhero.
 7° 
Brianna Love
When
        night
              kisses
                      the
                          end
                               of
                                  day,
                      there’s
                          a
                     moment,
            when
       my
cares just…
       fall away,
                     a
                     feeling
                         of
                           gliding,
                                     upon
                              calm
                                    waters of life,
                           when
                    peace
               and
         love,
         overcome my strife….
 7° 
Lyda M
It's 3am

I'm on the phone
No one's awake and I'm alone

It's 3am

The radio's on
Songs are played on lonely station

It's 3am

I'm in my bed
My eyes are open and sleep has fled

It's 3am

I'm on the balcony
The sky is dark and just quite scary

It's 3am

Some windows have lights
Could they also not sleep tonight

It's 3am

I'm still awake
When will life ever give me a break
Insomniac nights are the worst. And it's been going on like this for quite awhile.
 7° 
Carina
Lying embedded in velvet gloom and night,
You and I are gazing up the northern hemisphere.
Within the sea of darkness is the stars' stained light.

Hidden inside the fabric of interstellar space,
Might be a kind of universal truth
That answers all the questions of human race.

Sensing the pull of the universe
I feel like we're lost between the infinite vastness
That none of us could ever dream to traverse.

Suddenly you get up on your knees -
Head in the sky and feet on the ground.
“Perhaps the stars only made us feel lost,
because we both wanted to be found.”
Maybe we all are just waiting to be found:)
 6° 
Umang
With you


Let me be with you
We can rewrite the stars
With each other side by side

Let me fall with you
We can climb up the mountains
With each other hand in hand

Let me walk with you
We can jump over the pitfalls
With each one step together

Let me dream with you
We can build our own world
With creative imaginations

Let me fly high with you
We can roll over the clouds
With wings of freedom in the sky...
 6° 
AS
Light!

To breathe,

To feel what is truly real.

To find what is underneath,

Even if it creates tones of grief.

To heal through work,

Not to expect a miracle.

To grow with time,

To rewire life.


------------------------------------------
To absorb the joy in the simple,
The whole energy of the stars.
To warm my heart,
That the possibilities will lay ahead.
To know my soul is on the mend,
Even though some of the demon inside haven’t yet fully fled.
Lighting up in a switch
,
To all the hope which is no longer on the glitch.
Smitten by dreams that play,
No longer my life be led astray
.
---------------------------------------------

© 2018

Abigail Sheard
 6° 
sunprincess
A rainbow swam past,
Colorful and beautiful
tropical fishes
xoxo
 6° 
Brianna Love
She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..
 6° 
AS
Flowers why do they
hold this special power?
To make you smile, comfort
the mind, the surprise that they
insight. The hope they open up with each
petal, a beauty which does not falter.
Scents caressing the senses connecting
to the heart. Floating, swirling
joy carried across the air. The
freshness, the giving
of colours, bringing
forth the
parade of
nature.
  The
meaning
delivered
when
given,
to
trigger
warmth.
Even
if
it
only
lasts
for
a
short
while.
Present flowers with purpose, to those
who shine and brighten your life.
Knowingly giving you the nutrients
to live and survive, with all
the substance
they bring.


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
 6° 
Egg
We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Inspired by the Vanity Fair article of André Aciman's reaction to his book *Call Me By Your Name* being made into a movie. Specifically the quote, "I couldn't write silence."
 6° 
A
Mirror mirror on the wall
Am I too short? Am I too tall?  
Mirror mirror do you care?
About my clothes, About my hair?
Mirror mirror can you see?
The perfect woman I'm obsessing to be

Too skinny, too fat,
Too frumpy when I'm sat,
Untamed messy hair
Too pale when I'm bare
Circles beneath my eyes
Out of proportion for my size
Forever appearing rough
Will I ever be good enough?


Mirror mirror you ignite self rejection,
Every single time I judge my reflection
Mirror mirror I think that you lied
As you never reflect the beauty inside.
I hate mirrors. I honestly do. I think everyone has felt like this at some point, I tried to end it on a positive note, but I'll still continue hating mirrors- fuck you mirror.
-A
X
 6° 
She Writes
You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

:)
 6° 
AS
Floating around in this dream,
Where the light is beaming and the excitement building inside to an enclosed screaming.


Deeming the essence free,
To do more than see and build substance in the in-between.


To feel and get into touch with fantasy,
Imagination leaping at luscious speeds.


Viewing more than can be believed or seemed,
As life is a fantasy to follow caution to stay away from evil and thieves.


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
 5° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
©Hg
 5° 
Mary Gay Kearns
I will follow you
Down the alleyways of your mind
Lying under your sun
Meling into dreams
Left behind by a shadow
We are loves words
Floating in time
The adventurers of space
Touches emblems, enshrined
Never let it be said
We didn't care
For every fraction of day
Held together
This man and this woman
Looped by a golden bow.

Love Mary

For her Roger xxx
 5° 
AS
Expectation the disease,
               which kills the inner child.
  The dreams,
                                     The creativity,
  The security,  
The belief belonging to you and me.
                       So let's let go and breathe,
To the expectations which puts
                              life in Deep freeze.


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
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