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Chiquita Jun 18
Living life is like walking in a rush Bush.
Somedays are made with roses and sweet fragrance,
Filled with Joy and laughter.
Somedays we trample over the torns,
Leaving us heartbroken and sad.
Most days are made up of both,
Though the torns rip you
There are some Roses to heal you.
Roses or torns, we were made strong enough to walk on both.
As people say, "life is not a bed of Rose's."
Mira Aug 2018
Life is like writing a book...
We may need to edit often as and when necessary,
so that we can write a good one.
A note to self
Parvez Khan Jul 2018
All what we think in our mind,
is as per it's confined range!
Isn't that strange?

All we feel depends on what we perceive.
Still we don't change!
Isn't that strange?

All what we are confused about is due to our own created circumstance.
Still, we are unable to arrange!
Isn't that strange?
It's my first poem on HePo. Hope all the people on HePo like it. Love to all of you and much respect to all moderators and specifically Eliot York sir.
I am gonna say this the best I can, Man, I don't even know where to begin, On my face there is a grin, Yet I feel ate up with sin, I look in the mirror, I see broken, You can't see it when you look at me, That I feel lost  as can be, I write these stupid rhymes And I don't even like mine, On the inside I feel terror,
The thing is I'm so happy, But something in me is empty,
I finally have a good life, I am a proud wife,
Still not a dime in my name, But happy just the same,
My soul is soaked with rain,  Because my heart cries from pain, Then when no one is home, All day somedays I sit here, And I cry outloud and alone, There is so much I miss, And darker grows the abyss,
No need to mention all that I miss, Because I can't go back to reteieve any of this, People, name's, memories and could be's, I always carry them with me,
I can try to be bad with a frozen heart,
It don't work when I try to play the part,
I wished I could, I wished I was,
Was so bad without a care,
If I could then I wouldn't have to wish I was,
Because yeah then I would,
I don't know me,
I know what some other's see,
When I glady go down to my grave,
No one will shed any tears,
I doubt any of the one's I love will even be there,
I don't even see them now,
I pray God takes me soon somehow.
                                       -Ven Jencie Arnold
True, Too tired of going over it and over it again. If you have questions, I will answer
Thank you and God Bless
Ignatius Hosiana Nov 2017
You took my breath away perfecting your sigh
I lost my wings teaching you how to fly
you know, it cost me my smile to diminish your cry...
I lost my way seeking to find you a path
and my shine to enhance your glow...
I lost reason struggling to build your thought
plus my vision attempting to make you see
that I was manacled just to set you free.
to see you rise I fell, you deserved a fairytale
I gave up my heaven to put you out your hell.
I lost my grip keeping you in touch, my faith inspiring you to church
healed your wound I got a scratch, amputated trying to be your crutch
I hated showing you how to truly love
and to keep you on the straight I had to swerve
for ours was a seesaw, I lifted you high whilst dropping low,
I lost all I had to provide the plenty you sought
because I valued you so much I forgot my worth
Ignatius Hosiana Aug 2017
Our* Sand Castles
were blown away,
but am glad we had
the faith and courage
to build something
together much as
we knew it wasn't
going to

skrperceptions Jul 2017
it just a starts  towards the final destination called death
but roots are not specified for it.
so every new born is a story teller ,
he tells a new story which state a cause of a birth,
with the tense called past and verb called live
and noun called he/she.
sorry, there is no alternative ****** for it
and no questions at all. fill in the blanks of each irrelevance-
with the adverb which is “fate”.
Sebastian Macias Jun 2017
I truly believe it is a need
To be scared, and afraid
When it's called for
You need the wake up
As the blood rushes you
Think quick, move faster
Just don't show it
Keep it as your own prize
Let it not be scorned by
The flames of the world
There is nothing worse than
Someone who shows their tell

— The End —