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Derron Schronce Mar 2016
Earth and sky surround me
Stars cast light that guide me
Celestial spirits embrace me
Love is the pulse that sustains me
The life I live creates me
Trust is the silence that comforts me
Kindness from others reflects me
Stillness is a power that supports me
Nature and her beauty inspire me
Divine guidance leads me
to the soul which is me
and together with me
we will always be
the greatest gift
m i a Jan 2016
his kisses
were like
little gifts
that i oh
so very
much enjoyed
recieving.
<3
Ami Shae Jan 2016
So unlike me.
I stepped on toes today--
didn't mean to,
but I couldn't help it
when they asked me
what I had to say--
I simply replied
that if things were up to me,
I'd set this whole **** world on fire
and send a note to god above
to start all over
and this time fill it with REAL LOVE--
no hate and no mean, unkind creatures
to rule the new, universal world
just LOVE and CARE and HOPE
should be unfurled--

and then once it all begins again
to reap the gifts of this love
and make sure love always conquers
over meanness, over sin...
just feeling a bit out of kilter... sorry.
Okie Cavies Jan 2016
It doesn’t fit right, you know.
The sleeves are too tight,
the shiny threads
running through the material
are scratchy,
and I never really liked this color,
anyway.
I wonder if I can return it?
Chirayu Writer Dec 2015
Hello Friends & this letter is directly From Santa Chirayu..
Today a Santa is departed from India to travel across the world & to surprise you with a wonderful gifts & to give a memories that's live yours life with full of happiness forever......
So are you guys ready to night to make it best for the time & take it worth till the next season... do u hear the sound of jinglebells ? oops he is arriving soon just wait & watch, Ha-ha.....
Cat Fiske Dec 2015
I don't believe in childish things,

like santa,

I don't partake anymore in the act of gift getting,

I used to believe that all these things used to be what christmas time was for,

but what about the kids who never got even 1 gift this season,

we hardly hear their cries,

there happy to have they family together just for christmas night,

but what about those kids,

who can't even get that,

santa must not like them then,

*** santa has forgotten them,

no,

because there's no such thing as santa,

and I have not forgotten them,

but who else has not forgotten them,

someone needs to help them,

I used to believe in santa,

I used to get gifts,

but now I ask my family to give my gifts to other kids,

this seasons about giving,

so give to someone who has less.
an idea for the season.
Ryan Long Dec 2015
The hole begins so small
But then it starts to grow
It gets deeper and widens
To what end no one can know

No one knows the pain
That's felt when you're alone
The darkness becomes a friend quiet but for a moan

Surrounded by friends
But no one is close by
And all you want
is to lay down and die

To put on a smile when you're nothing but empty
And still make people think you're full of vigor and peppy

It tires you out day after day
And all you want is for someone to say

Hey I know you,
don't you dare lie
I can see in your face
You're​ ready to die

Then with vigor you speak
And release it all out,
fight the sadness and the pain
You're ready to let loose with a shout

But no one comes up
You're still all alone
Instead of looking for help
You decide to just go home

How does the cycle end
Only one of two ways
Find help get a friend
Or your life you could end

Ask yourself this question as you go to sleep tonight
Was there someone I met that needed help in their fight

Can I go out and do better
Listen to someone and care
Is there someone who's hopeless
Who just needs me to be there?

People are committing suicide and dying everyday
It's about time we stepped up smiled and said hey

To be a friend to the hurting, the alone and the abused
About time we stepped up
The gifts of God be used

To be the reason someone's still here and alive today
And all because we sat down and listened to what they had to say

It doesn't take much
Just a good attitude
A willing heart, a lending hand
To help change a depressed mood
I wrote this poem after I had attended a course through my Fire Dept. on PTSD and how to deal with it/handle patients with it.
Brent Kincaid Dec 2015
The most pleasant of presents
Isn’t on a table.
Is the bountiful presence
Of the birthday angel.

The birthday angel
Has been here
And brought you the gift
Of yet another year.
Let’s hope it leaves you smiling
From ear to wonderful ear
Because your birthday
Is right now, right here.

It’s not something sold
In any kind of store
But you will know immediately
What this gift is for.
It is to help you make it through
Three hundred some days.
And to enjoy your life
In over three hundred ways.

It’s to help you count blessings
And to pull all the weeds.
To give your life garden
All the care and love it needs;
So that when next year comes
You’ll have done all you were able
With the gift you were given
By last year’s birthday angel.

There are many birthday angels
They are all around you now.
They teach with life lessons
And that will show you how
To recognize the angels
With or without the wings
And celebrate the gifts
All birthday angels bring.
Erika Castaldo Dec 2015
In the small kitchen,
A toddler sits near the window,
Laughing at the older woman across
The pile of cards at the table’s center.

The girl is older now,
Pink hair and heavy makeup
Playing a game of rummy with her
Grandmother, who looks at her with only pride.

The older woman’s hair is streaked with gray,
The girl has traded her colored hair
For black and her makeup is simple.
She has moved on to playing Poker.

The table is a mess of wedding magazines and notebooks,
The girl holds one of the magazines in her left
Hand, diamond glistening as her grandmother
Smiles to herself from behind a notebook.

The grandmother wears a lavender dress
As she fixes the girls veil.
The girl is fussing with the bouquets
Of flowers that cover the table.

The old woman sits alone at the
Table in front of a computer,
The girl is chatting excitedly,
Palm trees visible in the background.

They both sit at the table
More serious than ever as the
Girl’s hand rests on her bulging stomach.

She wears a suit while she sits
By the window, a pink car seat
Rests on the table in front of her.

The grandmother is small and shaking
With every hand she puts down.
The girl has cut her hair shorter than ever,
The same color as that of the little girl
Sitting on her lap and toying with cards.

The girl sits alone at the table,
Her eyes red and puffy from crying,
Knuckles white from clutching her cell phone
And a crib rests next to the chair.

The table is covered in flowers and gifts.
It’s surrounded by sobbing people in black.
The girl does not cry as she fixes her daughter’s
Hair by the window.
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