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At the end of February
A girl who lost herself
Knows someone who cares

At the end of February
A girl who lost her smile
Knows someone who brought light into her life

At the end of February
The day that comes every four years
A girl realize, that day is worth to waiting for

At the end of February
The light that had fallen
Finally shining once and for all
EmperorOfMine Feb 2019
Golden sands, oh take me
Forest green moon, don't forsake me
Glass blue sea, underneath me
Ash, stone, and blaze now surrounds me

Destined lands that were taken
Stories we made gone and shaken
Oh my lovely drifting memories
Couldn't protect them, so I must set them free

Desperate plans
To make them
Soon chilled by the sight of lights dim
Trials and
Tribulations
Send me softly to vacation

From your hands, you may save me
Come, please, be soon, will I soon be free
There are stories and revelations
Calling curses hexing desperations

Sing while I can
This will all soon cease
Lost
and choked
Forgetting how to breathe
Sing me to sleep, but softly, please
I've lost my land
And now my mourning...
.
.
.
.
.
-1♡
1/3♡
EmperorOfMine Feb 2019
Let's have some fun
Cat's got your tongue
You want to know
The game I run
I throw a goal
You play to win
I sew and sow
You reap the end
The sun is set
The moon is too
I don't forget
I speak what's true
A game of odds
The ends even
Don't do facades
Come back again~
Jolan Lade Feb 2019
Thank you, February
You are the slight cold before spring
Just temporary
Foggy air silently flowing under a wing
Of the following months, you are a real legionary

Thank you, February
You are the soft entry into the year
For a soft assent, you are tributary
You are the air, the feeling, and the cold frontier
With you as the dignitary, we have nothing to fear
February
Amanda Feb 2019
It is the month that feels evil
But it isn’t the month that is evil
But the evil people
Who do evil things
Evil enough to
Make a whole month feel
Like drowning

February is the transition
Transition of nature
So maybe, perhaps just maybe
February could transform
My broken soul
Into something beautiful
So that it could live again
AW Gray Feb 2019
Wistfully Melancholic, Brown Overtones.
It's that ****** day again -
never stopping or skipping a second,
nor letting stillness be.
Is it future or is it past?
Never mind,
you'll never heed this
warning.
That painting on the wall,
a time long lost - desolate,
and left to longing,
with the romantic bliss that was,
and is nevermore
y'ay'a Feb 2019
are you Happy?
have you been hiding yourself
behind the mask Of others?
how Long have you been hurting?
how Long have you been hiding?
are you happy
with the life you've falsified?
no One will miss you when you're gone
are you happy?
are you okay?
Would you tell me if you're okay?
Faith Feb 2019
Ah, February
It is the month of love, and
Total rejection
Jackie Mead Feb 2019
As I was walking along the bank of the Canal, fog covering the ground like a cloak
I thought I heard the jolly sound of a Frog croak
The Canal usually bright blue of colour
Was an unusually dark eerie, discolour.
I carried on walking towards St David’s Station, my destination
Whilst composing a Poem with my imagination
In front, I could not see more than 10feet ahead
But I swear a saw the wings of an albatross, overhead.

To the left as I walked, green open fields
I suddenly heard the sound of a Swan squeal
To my right, the Canal cast a dark and dreary backdrop
The banks of the Canal usually lined with Trees, you could barely see their tops.

Fifteen minutes in and I began to feel the warmth of the sun, hitting my heels
The path ahead lit by the warm soft glow of the sun, giving the start of the day an ethereal feel
Twenty minutes and now the fog begins to lift
My spirits are beginning to change, uplift.

Twenty-five minutes have now gone by and I have almost arrived, it usually takes me twenty-three
The fog has lifted and now I can see, exactly was happening around me
I could see people walking their dogs, walkers walking and runners jog
The Trees on the banks of the Canal have burst through the fog.

I could see People at the start of their day, some stop you and say, “good morning what a nice day”,
Some just smile as you pass them, on your way
Some pass you by, phones to their ears, never catching your eye
Some smile sweetly, a little shy.

When the fog lifts and the Sun cast its rays
You hope it’s going to be the start of a beautiful day
Hope grows therein
Hope for better, warm days, beautiful spring flower displays
The hope for warm sunny days begins.
My walk this morning
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