Know that your written words echo in my soul They touch my heart and never let go Leaving fingerprints evidence that you moved my heart and exposed my deepest emotions Thank you for sharing your passion Through your passion I found a voice in my silence, knowing that you have spoken I need your words like a heartbeat I pray to never stop breathing as long as you keep writing
When I look at all of their accomplishments I see me I see the potential I could be The time inside therein intertwined Most strenuously And yet I know my motives are not pure And so I wait For calling to be On a shelf because Selfishness will not endure But a calling will last for forever
So we beat on boats against the current Borne back ceaselessly into the past You forget what you want to remember And remember what you want to forget And we are quotation marks, inverted and upside down, Clinging to one another at the end of this life sentence. Trapped by lives we didn’t choose.
The heart dies a slow death. Shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none. No hopes… no nothing. My thoughts are stars. I cannot fathom into constellations.
Beautiful things only grow to a certain height. And they fail and fade off. And in that moment. I swear we were infinite. I hid my deepest feelings so well. I forgot where I placed them.
We’ve all got both light and dark inside us What matters is what part we choose to act on. That is who we really are. She is madness, sanity. She is hell….and paradise.
I had something to write But my mind couldn't let me write It took away my right to write It held me in prison the guards were 26 letters I couldn’t put into words So in silence I sat, looking at these words with no meaning My heart dying to define them But my mind lacking the courage to write them This writer’s block is a cancer To which I can’t find an answer As it happens just before I need to write these words Stuck in an empty mind of a dead author Want to advance but can’t go further I am a slave to these words and they are my master Controlling me and forcing me to face my disaster Until I find the words to write, silence is what I will feed the minds of my readers
Mothers celebrated Mothers gave us life. They breathed into our lungs our first cry of existence. Showers of praise to the years of giving that she has given us. Such is Beauty. A sweet cake cut pieces from like a knife. We owe to her respect We honor her and mothers who have past Through carrying on her legacy and messages A magic energy forever cast. As we celebrate on this day the honor that she deserves All year long Blessed are we to have her in our lives and in our hearts A sweet love who had brought us in the world and she protected and directed us. Cheers to her, the sweet and beautiful lady, forever celebrated in our hearts.
Whether on stone or wood, slate or leather, Papyrus, parchment, vellum or paper, With fingers or stylus, chalk or the quill, Much later with the pen or the pencil, Or the typewriter, computers today; Writers, to write, will always find a way.
Miss Agnes Columbus What are you doing? What is your calling? What path are you pursuing? Your mother wants a teacher Your father wants you married. Poor miss Agnes Columbus Now wonder you are harried.
Miss Agnes Columbus What are you doing? What is your calling? What path are you pursuing?
Unlike famous Christopher You don’t travel in the world. You stay home all the time And set your hair to curl. You read all the magazines And know all the styles. What makes you happy Agnes? What makes you smile?
Your mother wants a teacher Your father wants you married. Poor miss Agnes Columbus Now wonder you are harried.
You write inside your diary That nobody ever reads. Your mother and your father Doubt where it will lead. Whoever will hire a poet, A creator of hidden rhymes? You are not Emily Dickenson And this is not olden times.
Miss Agnes Columbus What are you doing? What is your calling? What path are you pursuing? Your mother wants a teacher Your father wants you married. Poor miss Agnes Columbus Now wonder you you are harried.
