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I open my door - to the brisk December air,
Each breath as Fresh as the mornings First -
Through my Frosted airways -
A Winter Cloud exhaled.
Farzaneh Qaf Jan 2020
Jungle news Jungle news
Jungle all the way
Oh how sad it is to see a kangaroo while it's burnt.
War news through the world
In a one-force open slave
Over every news we go mad
Crying all the way
Fire on Twitter trend
Making spirits so dark
How sad it is to ride and sing a slavery song tonight
Jungle news Jungle news
Jungle all the way
Oh how sad it is to see a Kuala while it's burnt.
.
Farzaneh.Qaf
Blind Eye Jan 2020
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https://dennislaj.wixsite.com/website
Susan N Aassahde Dec 2019
hen potato skip
canyon gnome
butter rose fee
Erian Rose Nov 2019
Somewhere across the stars,
Racing in the night,
I saw your face as it beamed back at me,
Rolling upon the hills so high.
We'll take flight someday,
As we soar through the fields of butterflies,
A song dancing in the night,
While watching the stardust in your eyes.
Something about the way you smile,
When the mountains tumble by your window.
It's you and me forever
This frosty midnight.
PUBLISHED POEM
Will be published in late June by the Live Poets Society of NJ
abby Nov 2019
I've been bitten by the frost and it burns just like the cost of the awful way you crawled away because you could not stay

I try so hard to run along the fray on the outside keeping the demons all at bay
Without you, love seems the color grey.
s Nov 2019
A touch of coldness
Thin frost— and now I’m closed off
Thaw me out with warmth
LLillis Nov 2019
Green leaves lay surprised
Hurried out so frostily–
With no chance to change!
The first snow hit Toronto and many of the trees weren’t prepared for it. A thick blanket of green leaves dotted with ice now covers most of the parks and lawns. It reminded me of being rushed out by a fire alarm in the middle of the night.
My words don't Shake like William's,
nor, do they Frost like Robert's.
×
My words barely lead the Way like Ernest's,
nor, do they have Hughes like Langston's. 
×
I don't know how much my Wordsworth like William's,
nor, do my words keep people ******* like Edward's.
×
My words are far from an Angel like Maya's,
 and they are barely Lovecraft like Howard's.
×
Indeed I profess, my words cannot do those listed things, but, my words can be a great expression of me.
×
(sumairu•¶oetry)
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