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Shofi Ahmed Jan 5
The physical matter
has a line in its swansong
it has a place in paradise
it’s not here to stay for good
neither to perish forever!
Chantell Wild Feb 2019
How dare I be afraid
Of you not being Here
One day you will not Be
Maybe it's Me that
won't  be here
I do beg forgiveness
I could have maybe
Done better by you
But let it be known
That I loved you
That Ill write my last poem
In my own time
Sing my Swan song
In my own time.
Jade Oct 2018
Heart skips
like a warped record,
trembles over scarred vinyl
until "I love you"
tastes incomplete:

(I)                love                 you

I                  (love)               you

I                   love                (you).

My Swan Song mewls off key,
cascades across the
marred terrain of my soul
in a thick lacquer of tears.
Notes flatline
in unison with my
waning pulse
(waning, like the face
of the moon on the night
of my eighteenth birthday).

My breath
resigns to static,
dances in slow decrescendos--
sputters its way
towards nothingness,
slipping rapidly from
my consciousness until
I no longer hold
any recollection of the music
(or the poetry).
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
Äŧül Feb 2015
In this poem, I speak directly to you-know-who-because-it's-you.

Dear old friend, don't miss me ever,
If I had some genuine value in your life,
Now I add the element of request, please,
You know that most of my poems are for you,
Whether normal or proposing you to be my wife,
Please do not spoil your career being busy in vain,
The social network & apps are a total waste of time.

The social network is not a place for social service,
It is only so harmful for your own career prospects.

This is just my last request to you, Kripiji.

I know you are upset with this preaching,
But please take the positivity from this post.
Realize your ultimate aim in life of a good career.
And remember your exceptional performance two years ago.
Take some lessons from it even if you don't want me to say anything.
You were away from Facebook.
Facebook is a really cool thing..
But it is not so good for students...

And please don't resent me, Kripiji.

I am just performing my duty as a responsible lover.

By the way, it's a bit funny how I am requesting you timidly, scared to spoil your mood, I respect you for the love you have given to me from in between of all this busyness in your life which sees you prepare for your exams.

My HP Poem #777
©Atul Kaushal
mark john junor Jul 2014
her tender thoughts
meant to ease my mind
only obscured what was already hard to see
but her kindness was not lost on me
an angel of the mercy
she held back the night till i had passed the worst of it
held my hand with warmth till the break of day
we wintered there high above the treeline
in the deep snows of high mountain pass
and when spring came at long last
kept my word
rode her down to the pettyjean
saw her to safety

long months passed without a word
till one late summer day
high up on the mountain side came cross her
in a picturesque meadow sitting in splendor
like a portrait of perfections
like a sad goddess come to earthbound tears
didn't need to speak a word
gave her a safe place to be
held back the night till the worst of it had passed
wrapped her in golden and silver thread
held her hand with all the love and hope my heart could hold
for her tears burned my soul
and i could not bear to see them flowin
stayed there all that night
and deep into the hardest winter since '63

with small smiles running cross her sweet face
she thanked me for my kindness
bid me fare thee well once more
it had come to her in a dream
that this love of hers would return to her
hurt her no more and be hers forevermore
so into the deep snow i took her
back on down the mountainside to the pettyjean once again
watched as the boat carried her away
nobody to hold her hand through the worst of it
nobody to keep her safe in the darkest of night
just my hopes to guide her
just my unrequited loves to keep her golden

sittin here in the darkest of the night
with nothing but the wind to speak to
say all the things i could have should have said
explain the things in the way of knowin
what could have been
in this valley of silver and gold
came to me in a dream
that this should have been
and will be again in that wonderful place called someday
when we will laugh again
when the night passes and wake to smiling face once again
just as the dream slipped away i saw her
one last time coming up the pettyjean
bright with joys
happy once more
coming home

— The End —