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She's gone
left so many
wonderful memories of love.
She's grown
dawn and dusk.
Indonesia, 9th October 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Miriam May 2020
Whole skies ablaze,set on fire
Clouds like islands,floating in a crimson sea
Smooth and sweeping,golden sand
Deserts in the sky
Twisted black,framed against this display
And Graceful birds dance high and low
This sunset becomes the greatest show!
I wrote this earlier this year when I saw the most beautiful sunset ever in the countryside  it’s hard to imagine without a picture but hope this poem helps
roumen Aug 2019
You are so beutiful
To me..
You are walking slowly
Beside me...
You are smiling happy
For me..
You are dreaming softy
With me..
You are living fully
In me...
You are loving unconditional
Like me...
Where are you?
Did I dream about you?
Did I walk with you?
Did I live in you?
Did I love like you ?

You are so beutiful to me.
To me.
Time is sleeping next to us.
To us...
You ..
..... are so beutiful to me .
nja Mar 2019
The beautiful sky smiles, why don’t you.
The merciless sky cries, why don’t you.
The sky is open. Open yourself up to me. Be like the sky you raven.
Bella Mar 2018
I sit and think
what is life
is it worth it
is it even worth fighting for

but then I hear a tragic story
here and there

and I reflect and think
I am healthy
I am alive

I should live
Dicen que nació del polvo
de una estrella
su madre la luna
y el padre era el sol.

Era de cabellos dorados
tenia la piel blanca
creció jugando
también soñando
se lleno de fantasias
su alma siguió bailando
su cuerpo se quedo intacto
seguia siendo
el niño de la luna.

Alguien lo esperaba
en un cohete a tierra
pero el nunca tomo el vuelo
ahora debía ser mas fuerte.

Una noche estrellada
una voz femenina lo llamaba
era la vida vestida de astronauta
lo arropo y luego lo lanzo.

Cuando el niño fue atraído
por la gravedad y sus pies
tocaron tierra, sus pulmones
se llenaron de aire
y su mente de nuevas ideas.
Jeanette Feb 2015
The time I first saw Picasso's Blind Man;
there was a loneliness I was unaware
that color, alone, could produce.
Picasso lost his friend & his home,
& I understood why
he mourned for years, in Cobalt blue.

My Mother has kept my Father's last name
for longer than she's known her own.
My father has forgotten who he is so
they hardly speak anymore.
She still carries his torch even knowing
that he may never come home.

I climb the mountains to forget how much
I hate this city.
I watch them from below when I just
want to admire true beauty.
From the bottom, so sacred & somber,
they resemble an elephant sleeping,
surrounded by wild flowers
ready to return home.
this is loosely based on another poem of mine called "mercury in Retrograde?" I will throw them in a collection soon called Empty Home.
LordxWilliamson Dec 2014
Black Girl

Black is beautiful shouldn't be anything new to you I know TV's confusing you but you need to just think it through, lightskin dark skin every shade of sister in between you're all beautiful women playing for the same team. Your hair is perfect ***** natural and curly blonde hair and blue eyes don't make you anymore girly. Enough with TV's fraud me and my squad out here looking for our very own Felicia Rashad. Shout out to Disney for making a black princess who didn't rep our women at all. I'm just looking for Nefertiti an African Queen a woman who's skin is like coffee love like caffeine who's mind is sharp and focused on that green but does it all for the family her day one team dog that's my dream, a women who cooks like like my grand mama and hustles harder than than Mrs. Obama. Black butterfly your skies the limit lift your spirit against the malicious avaricious ignorance. The world is spiteful and stupid you're all beautiful that's can't be disputed, be proud of your eyes and hair be proud every morning you wake up and take a breath of fresh air be proud for every test you ace be proud of that beautiful skin stretched over that beautiful face.

— The End —