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Sameer Denzi Sep 2015
Nothing is the cost
To utter a word.
But,
If the wrong word is uttered,
At the wrong time,
Great might be the cost
Of that word.
Speaking from experience of course :)
Husbands, raise your hands
Keep them up if you love your wife
Keep them up if you colour your wifes hair
Okay, this is for the three of us that are left....


I did my wife a favour
As I do, because I can
I help her when I'm able
Not just because I am a man

I **** bugs when requested
I do the laundry like I should
I clean the bathroom when it's *****
And by doing so , feel good

Every few weeks I will help her
Hide the grey that she can see
I don't volunteer to do it
But it's cheap to hire me

A salon visit is expensive
Doing hair, and waiting hours
I just slip on my latex hand wear
And I have a bag full of super powers

Yes, I help my wife get couloured
I take the time and do her hair
I also, get it on the tiles
Up the wall and on two chairs

The dog gets covered just a little
The rug, a window and the bed
But, we always buy two packets
So, there's enough to do her head

I have a jacket slightly mottled
It's got a few brown spots, some red
I don't know exactly how it happened
I even got some on our bed

Just call me Mr. Kenneth
In my jumpsuit doing hair
I get it where I think she needs it
And I spray it everywhere

She comes out looking gorgeous
She's always happy with the result
She always looks a little different
Like someone who believes in the occult

If you're a husband who likes money
Save it, colour your wife's hair
Your part only takes ten minutes
You need ten towels, one mask, one chair

It brings us both closer together
My arms look like a leopard skin
All my shirts are slightly spotted
But all those spots, make me look thin

I've got to go now and get cleaned up
The carpets ruined, so's the wood
But, she's happy and we all know that
If the wife is happy....all is good!
Meg Howell Jul 2015
I've lost my mind
in a sea of dreams
It's floating around with my hopes and things
The only time I can see to reach it,
is when the tide comes in,
and my creativity subsides,
If that's the cost for a normal mind,
I'd rather be mad
Cecil Miller Jul 2015
I will never pay Hellopoetry $5 to have a poem be on the front page next to poems that are trending. I can't think of a more horrid thing then selling premium placement on the sight. There is no longer credibility, nor integrity on Hellopoetry.com. I will be looking for a new forum for my work. I am disappointed Hellopoetry.com would do this. You don't have to have talent nor anything interesting to say. I am done.
They changed the name of the front page to "what's hot". What is hot about having to buy your way in? Absolutely nothing. No real substance. I have never wanted to not be a writer before, until I noticed all this light shedding horseshit. A sun icon! Hey! Hellopoetry.com, sunlight is free, you ******* morons. Take away the sun and put up a dollar sign.
K R W Jun 2015
It's the small things in life
That cost so much.  
From buying a diamond ring,
To uttering 'I love you'
                                                       (K R W)
Derrick Feinman May 2015
Some people don't care
Externalize all their costs
Maximize returns.
Darren Mar 2015
The first time you said ‘I love you’ it got lost among an exodus of letters.
The thing I remember most about that night was the clicking of my keys as I replied.
This was what we were suppose to do, taught to do,
this is how love goes.

Like good soldiers that we were, we took aim at each other hearts.
They told us that the war will be over as soon as we fell in love, just pull the trigger.
They said that these bullets of love would heal our brokenness,
but they only caused us to bleed.

The congregation yelled ‘do not yield, this is the cost of love’.
But how much blood can one lose before they faint?
No matter how hard we tried to patch up each other holes, we couldn’t.
Humans are not meant to be bandages, the scars upon my wrist are proof of this.

The last time you texted “I love you” to me  I read it over and over,
staring at it, like a piece of art that I didn’t  understand.
I am so sorry that we could not save each other with this game
but this is what we are supposed to do, this is the cost of love.
I have revised this poem multiply and I am still not sure if is done, but nonetheless here it is.
Your silence, worth more than words
Yet I take heed to your words.
It costs me severely, to listen.

Your words, worth more than silence
Yet I take heed to your silence.
It costs me severely, to speculate.

*Nelson N. Nsarhaza
Christian Bixler Feb 2015
You are writing. Yes I am writing. But why?
For the ease of my soul. But why? For the
time spent well. But why? For my own sake.
Father, why do you not spend time with me?
Little son. One day you will understand. The
line of days runs ever on, the sun will mind it's
course, but life is a costly thing my son, and I must
pay its price. But Father, life must surely also be, of
play and laughing joy? Come outside and play with
me, for the day is fading and time is short. Come Father
and play with me, let life be patient and mind its cost.
Little son. You know I cannot. Go and find your mother,
she is blessed with ample time, to stem your flow of
questions, and slow your growing heart. Goodbye
Father. Goodbye, my son.
This is for those burdened Fathers, and for the man who I hope I shall never be.
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