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pat v 1d
love was she, in its purest form
but the mere vice of loving stirs a thousand storms
for the love that he labors, the love that he tries
cannot compare to the love in her eyes
not sure if you noticed, but its about love
I know my face is feminine
I know everyone 'knows' I'm a girl
I know in this confusing christian society
You have to keep to the binary

And so I don't expect them
To look at me
And say "He"

But just once
Maybe they'll hesitate
Before saying "She"
That could be enough
Eola Nov 20
My memories are gone
Not that I'd like to remember
The last time she didn't hit me
The last time she treated me better
She's a star but stars are in the sky.
Sabene Nov 19
It seemed as if the wind was more exasperated as usual,
its coldness brushed
against her skin.
The leaves were completely
in sync with wind,
angry as ever.
The sun it seemed had
and people on the streets
craved the warmth of the inside,
as they tried to hide in their heavy coats and jackets
but she took a heavy breath and stepped out.
Everything around her seemed to have meaning
and Everything around her was joyous,
she didn't care about the wind.
Her hand tightened around the
coffee cup
that was completely empty and she walked on...
The person who I am now
Would have hated the person I was
I have you to thank for that, so take a bow.
I lacked so much inspiration in my life
Then you came, and removed all my strife
Now i want to do more and be better
Im no romantic, yet here im writing a letter
A letter of gratitude for the joy uve given me
Held by chains of loneliness, i am now free
Gave me a reason to live, filled me with fire
Im changing, for you are my only desire.
C F Tinney Nov 16
When she walked it was as though
     the wind would move her
she would flow like summer breeze
one could barely behold
the perfection – oh the ease
with which she moved

Each step was like the ballet
like Swan Lake was set afoot
in the person of her womanhood
she, like no other could

Men fell in states of blunder
and ladies shapes of awe
for none could stand before her
not one resist her call

The Mona Lisa in the flesh
a living work of art
her subtlety betrayed her
a disguise she ill could wear

Her modesty set before her
a veil that through would shine
the loveliness of her countenance
the lady so sublime

I saw her once.
poem speaks for itself
Mrs Anybody Nov 11
i like
seeing you

i really do;
it makes you
even more

but i wish
it was me
of him

who is
the reason
of your happiness
also check out my other poems! :)
She is fond of sunsets,
yet prefers sunrise.
She cares about the weak heart,
yet is uncaring about her own.
She is surrounded by devils,
yet manages to find angels.
She is kind all the while,
yet mean at times.
She is faithful to the windy winter,
yet admires the soft summer.
She is passionate about her love,
yet apathetic in an irregular manner.
She is roughly foreseeable,
yet effortlessly unpredictable.
She is able to be whole,
yet unable to have a piece.
She is easily melted by the fire,
yet controls the tough cold core.
She lives in her own fantasies,
yet awaits an unpoetic reality.
She is a prepossessing paradox.
- Aishwarya Kulkarni
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