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Adriana Makenna Sep 2020
I told you I would find you a spring poem
filling your mind with the smell of daffodils
the worded anticipation of warmer, saturated.

But poems about spring feel tacky tonight
like a valentines day chocolate that melted
in my back pocket where your hand fits

They reverb a softness that
my tired eyes can’t grapple to focus.
I’m trying but spring means that

My year has been swallowed before me.
The only use I see for these budding sakura
are for peppering that grief with scorn.

Perhaps I will sleep it off. But then,
perhaps cynicism in the face of ******
beauty, is my becoming a poet.
Sammie Sep 2020
I know what it is
that keeps you up all night
C'mon now trust me
Hold on to your spirits tight!
This year was to let go of things
that hurt like a tightened rope
So that you could finally feel the touch
of your rejuvenated hope!
To embrace your new self
with utmost compassion
Give all those dreams
your wings of passion!!
All by yourselves you have
grown out the pain
And now you have lessons,stories
and way too many experiences to gain!!
A little bit of tears still
accompany buckets of laughter
(Cause baby, from here I see you)
With patience, belief and magic
You now live your "happily ever after"!
Everyday she falls in love with herself!
Oh hell yes! In her story
She is the chipmunk and she is the elf!
Ell R Aug 2020
a poem is a gift,
given to those who are worthy
those who you can trust
not to hold you at their mercy.

a poem is a gift
for the ones after you
it touches the hearts of many
and opens the eyes of few.

a poem is a gift
which arises out of silence
it says what speech cannot
and offers some guidance.

a poem is a gift
for you to beautifully express
what you truly feel
for those who know you best.
Lynnia Aug 2020
Writing is a gift
Poetry is a present
Ink and tears mingle,
Bleeding together; released
Soaring on paper airplanes
8.22.20
Ylzm Aug 2020
Apriori and Self Evident, A Gift
Upon which Reason is founded, A Sword
     Separating Truth from Lies,
     Discerning Reason in the Unreasonable,
     Seeing the Unseen, and
     Affirming Belief in the Unbelievable.
Gunnika Mehra Aug 2020
.
When I looked in the mirror,
I saw an incomplete face.
A human formed so vague,
God forgot to give her a face.
Formed by the last lump of clay,
A human,incomplete in every possible way.
Yet, a chisel given as the last parting gift,
Ready to define my own face.

When I look in the mirror these days,
I see a different face.
Imperfect but proud,
Because I sculpted it.
Raven Blue Aug 2020
Poem is the art and emotions of the person writing it;
It is a gift and a friend whom we can lean on anytime.
We read it when we're sad;
And there we can find some inspiration and courage;
To continue our lives bravely and not give up.
We read it when we're angry;
To calm ourselves and think thoroughly.
We write poems to express the feelings and thoughts that we have;
We write poems to give inspirations and to motivate others.
It is maybe just words but through writing and reading poems, we can clearly see and understand the reality ;
All of us maybe read the same poems, but truthfully we read it differently and have different thoughts about it.
But what we have in comparison is that, we read and write poems because it is a cure to us in any emotions that we have and we need it in our lives.
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