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hami Oct 2017
Tiptoe travelling while
going upstairs of the building,
her snowy dress is waving
as she act like a ballerina.

Dancing at the rooftop
corners then go to the area
while sensing at the stars
in the gloomy resplendent sky
that wrought like a shape
of her perish love one.

The soul who cognizance
the presence of paradise—
jealous she, who's troubled
due of lifting the memoirs.

"Am I born just to cry
and suffer for all the years?" ,
she shouted at the atmosphere
with her soaked eyes.

No one answered—
just only the echoes of her voice;
lost, depression and solitary
are what she sensed
until there's a melody of air
touches her tan skin.

The artistic rhythm
whispered that she's not—
said the warm air that
kisses her lips when she pout,
A familiar one that
she experienced before.

"Are you my—" ,
she asked and cut
by the air's cuddle
and uttered,

"I'm yours
and your new
guardian angel."
I wrote this poem a long time ago-- I just want to share this with all of you.
moonstruck Sep 2017
i can recall these regular tendencies,
all the way until my seventies.
i adore your little habits,
like smiling—with teeth sticking out like a rabbit’s.

daily recollections of your actions,
pop up in my mind like a distraction.
like moments when you cover your mouth as you laugh,
i perfectly capture them like a photograph.

like when your eyes turn into crescents,
no matter the time; past or present.
the way the corners of your mouth are curled,
it makes my heart swirl and twirl,
for it is as precious as a pearl.

the faint laugh you produce,
echoing around the room to diffuse—
a sound so sweet, so pure;
to my unhappiness, it's a cure
as it puts a smile back onto my face for sure!

from your clasped hands in your regular stance,
to your endless showcase of your “pin drop” dance,
i cant seem to pick a favourite one!
but i believe it’s when you make a pun.
HM Sep 2017
My love for you
can never be found,
in any book,
in any song,
nor in any poem,
It’ll be lost,
in the history of man,
in the lullabies at night,
in the words of poets,
And just like that,
I will wish none
But to see you smile.
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8
Jordon Rivir Jul 2017
When we die, we don't feel a thing, we don't suffer,
We gracefully move on.
Conscious and everlasting,
In our eyes we just took our last slumber.
Then at dawn's rise,
We awake as someone new,
We don't know, what it is,
It is,  
Just what we do.
We all could be dead,
That means,
You...you...and you,
We all could be dead,
Me too.
Dr Zik Jun 2017
I'm unable to stop
Falling soft pearls
From eyes at night
You're not about to stop
Falling dewdrops in
The morning
O' my dear Lord!
Both are unshakable signs of
Everlasting love
And the morning star is witness
-------------
Dr ZIK's Poetry
Jennifer Weiss Apr 2017
Your presence is perfection.
I'm happy to be here again.
When my mind was clouded and distant,
I couldn't feel you on my skin.
I'm so thankful for these moments,
you remind me of the life you put me in.
The very breath of Heaven,
living inside my skin.
Take my thoughts,
Take my heart,
and make them like You again.
you are so very close, Lord.
sunprincess Mar 2017
Some
scientists
say,
some
shining
stars
shine
into
infinity..
shining
their
love
to
light
our way
xoxo
perhaps, stars do shine long after they explode,
maybe for millions of years,
who can really know for sure
-------------
A Wegner Dec 2016
You prefer succulents over grass
Plastic abhorred to glass
Preserve the trembling cast
The remnants,
Life’s artefacts
My heart, the truth -
Sincerity
Comforting and humble
With you I’m free

You are the rhythm in my bones
My present, past and future known
With you like roads made cobblestone
I cannot live without my heart
I cannot live if we’re apart
At least at heart please keep me be
For bound to you I’m totally free
You're my everything
In perpetual solitude I linger in the shadows.
Fragmented in which pieces to me are unbeknownst... unrecognisable.

Am I who I was or am I nothing but a memory of what I once were? Something other than me. A corrupted part of my insanity.

Maybe I am nothing more than lifeless flesh, rotting in perpetual solitude.
Mysidian Bard Oct 2016
Our hearts may grow old
But won't ever be dulled by
The passage of time
Happy Thanksgiving from Canada to all Hello Poetry members! :)
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