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Tabitha Nov 2013
She paints with her heart, not with her hand,
She expresses herself with every color on her canvas,
Aligned and planned out everything she has ever wanted,
Ready to go paint what she anticipated for so long,
She starts off with a clean white board,
and adds color wherever she goes,
Her smile can represent enough pleasure it gives her,
She sees the beauty of what she has made,

It starts off as a masterpiece, until she makes a mistake,
She wipes it, paints over and tries to make it go away,
She hates herself with each stroke she makes,
She mutters "What ******* I've made"

The color submerge just like water could,
The colors intertwine like roses would,
And in the end she knows that it all should have ended this way,
She says to herself *"It just another one of those days"
Tabitha Nov 2013
Forgive and forget, two very simple words you see,
The human mind itself is so very evolutionary,
Mustn't hold a grudge,
For the one's you once loved,
May your past be healed,
So your future is clear,

Forgive and forget, one or the other will do,
Not let the anger get the best of you,
They say the weak seek revenge,
The strong forgive,
And the intelligent forget,
Just wait, the poem hasn't finished as of yet,

It does not heal the past, I know that for myself,
But it in fact enlarges the future, and leaves your grudge on the shelf,
But one thing that you have to remember,
From January till December,

Forgive and Forget*, not revenge and regret,
These two words keep you from being upset.
Tabitha Nov 2013
Dark, cold, and still lit up; The night awakens as the sun goes down,
Walking on the sidewalk, looking at the stars,
A wish I have deep inside, while watching the rush of city cars,
The world itself makes my problems seems so insignificant,
The calm quietness takes over my body,
I'm still and silent, closing my eyes and hearing the sounds,
The breeze, drifting by as the water by the lake peers in close,
The constant rush of water, upon a roaring rock,
The fog-horn is clear, the sirens are near,
The people yelling, the screaming, the anger built in,
The honking, the fights, the gun-shots at night,
The murders, the horror, and the unsafety outside,
Once we take a walk at night, we fear death come by,
The inability to calmly live life,
How calm it once was, in split seconds died out?
Being able to live a peaceful life without the fear of dying,
Without gossiping; without deception and lying,
Oh what a wonderful world that would be.
Tabitha Nov 2013
Is not simply the muscle one gains, nor is it a person's physical capability,
It's their will to get through life, their emotional agility,
Starts off with a terrible catastrophe,
Their cries un-heard, their loneliness over-head,
Over-head like a cloud, casting upon them,
An indescribable feeling of uneasiness,
Which one day they will stop and think,
They are the ones who can change their life within an eyes' blink,
So I tell you once more, and another again,
Strive for happiness, from now till 'then',
Happiness depends upon ourselves,
It's desire is your will, and your heart it'll fill,
When I put *will* in italics, I am saying that: Your *will* to get through life is your desire for happiness.
Tabitha Oct 2013
There might be that trail of footsteps in the fresh winter snow,
Near the hill past the milk and deli store,
That lead to that path you have seen before,
They say this path has been destined for success,
Oh what the wonderful sights you'll see they say,
I look back and doubt the steps I've made,
Whether or not they will pay,
I stand here in the cold icy snow,
While people follow the same trail left behind for them to follow,
I change my route,
Doubts fill my mind,
I continue to walk in the other direction,
Firmly pressing each boot in that freshly fallen snow,
Thinking I will be the first one to create this other path for those to follow,
The bridge, the forest, Oh the beautiful scenery,
The dense cold air as it fills my lungs,
Fills me with satisfaction,
I've done what I've done,
Left a trail for those who follow it,
But the moral here is, be a leader and create your own path,
Don't choose to follow people's steps just because others have.
Tabitha Oct 2013
They say it would somehow stop,
They said I'm not the only one,
Who's living this nightmare,
Day after day,
Getting taunted in this hallway,
The things that have been said,
All get to my head,
Millions get bullied but how does this topic become so taboo,
It still hasn't hit us, it's so hard to get through.
It's not much of a game when you know someone's getting hurt.
So put down the hate and pick up the hope,
Help these kids in school cope.
*Stand up and join the fight to stop bullying once and for all.
Tabitha Sep 2013
Oh Coffee Machine! My Coffee Machine! You've finally finished my drink!
For every morning you brew me one -I place my mug in the kitchen sink,
Every drop of your goodness; topped with whip cream; finished just in time,
The things you make, lattes, coffee, are absolutely divine,
Just as I was about to fill and pour the once empty mug,
almost as empty as i'm feeling; there's still that leftover bit of hope,
But wait, Can it be? My old trustee machine?
It mustn't be the end of my coffee machine peering near,
It can't be the end of my morning routine,
For all I hear are crashes; unfamiliar to my ear.

My Coffee Machine! Dear Coffee Machine,
The hiss of steamed milk, cream and roasted coffee beans,
The wisps of steam lingering in the air as you make my coffee,
Dripping ever so slowly in my cup -Coffee that's dark, bitter and black as night,
Early in the morning before breakfast; before I take a bite,
This half-full cup of coffee won't do me good for the day,
Without you I think that the morning skies themselves will be grey,
But wait, My dear coffee machine!
I keep pressing the button clear
It can't be the end of my morning routine,
For all I hear are crashes; unfamiliar to my ear.

Waking up with no cup of coffee, ask not what the future may bring,
Without the energy, I don't know whether sorrow shall reign or happiness ring,
Everyday I now wake to breathe deeply the aroma of life's bel-fry,
For if I ever smell the subtle hint of coffee in the air, I let out a sigh.
Oh Coffee Machine! Dear Coffee Machine,
You've been here for so many years,
It can't be the end of my morning routine,
For all I hear are crashes; unfamiliar to my ear.

— The End —