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Enola Cabrera Jun 2016
You left with a fancy of lust in your eyes
And every step you took left a red tulip
in your wake
Undying love
Peter J Thomas Apr 2016
Tulips standing tall and proud,

Of colours different to the crowd,

I wonder what I'm going to see,

When the tulips time is history.
taia Apr 2016
lips like a tulip
do i need to distinguish
to which i refer?
as i sit laughing...
Lou Morgan Mar 2016
You didn't care much for Easter
or for flowers for that matter
yet I went to the store and bought
a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips.

Now here I stand in the midday sun
my shaking fingers clutching the long green stems,
as a warm, slow tear drips off my chin.
I kneel down and set the flowers down next to the temporary sign that holds your name,
wondering again why I even bothered.

I grab a handful of the dirt that now hugs your body and cringe at the thought of you laying just feet below me.
I can't help but wish that you were here.
what i wish i was doing today.
Trevor Blevins Feb 2016
When did you tell me that the sunrise was unwelcome, that the hallways gave you such anxiety and that I should just as well stay in?

I told you once that you looked young, yet sixty years had passed since your death, and you, Sylvia, were beautiful...

Said the vivid tulips ate your oxygen.

Poets have great sympathy for you in the way we gasp in sorrow and strive for beauty.

I know exactly why I love you.
AM Aug 2015
His smile has rained over my ribcage
where inside rests a soil field
for him to grow hundreds of red tulips
as red as my kiss to his sweet lips
and they've been blocking my breathing
each time he tells me that he's leaving
or simply return to me and staying
so I pluck them all and start counting
one and two and three
does he loves me not?
or does he loves me?
until teardrop falls and I cannot see
cause it always ends up with him
not loving me
Idiosyncrasy Jul 2015
I woke up
With a heavy heart
Today
Tears slowly rolling
Down my face
That made things
Much worse
For I'm feeling
Every move
Of pain.

I dreamed of you
Last night
You came by
I was like a prisoner
Expecting no
Visitors at all
You brought tulips
Orange and violet
So I knew
I was happy.

That was my dream
After a very long time
I guess
I need not say
Why I woke up
With a heavy heart
Tears slowly rolling
Down my face
Feeling every move
Of pain.
suicidal twitch Jul 2015
And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun held her head up high,
Lighting the way for their tales and psalms:

I am the King of Spades.
Righteous ambition is my goal.
The bravery of the Spades is made known to others
Only through such matters.
Perseverance is our path to Victory
Endurance, our greatest desire.
We, the Spades, partner with Father Time
To belong as a mighty people
Forever more.

I am the Queen of Diamonds
The splendor and enjoyment of Life's beauty is my passion.
A Diamond's journey is a one of glorious awe
That no one can compare.
Loveliness surrounds this pretty people
And the Artist shall forever be pleased by them.
Our perception of artistry leaves most in awe
And this fact is forever the passion we strive for.

I am the Queen of Clovers
Survival is the sole lifestyle of the Clovers
In this wretched and unforgiving world
The Clovers must stay strong
Holding the clubs of the ancients,
We prevail
Onward shall we extend our power
The Clovers will remain
Forever the mightiest.

I am the King of Hearts.
The rapid spread of emotional ties
Is what us Hearts long for.
Threads of fate surround our people
Binding them to one another.
Love, lust, infatuation
Oh, these are the things that steady our nation!
So filled with Faith, Hope and Love
Our Hearts shan't fail us
As passion will never cease
To flow in our veins
—ah, yes!
This is the way of the Hearts.

And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun laid down her head
Whilst the Moon finally awoke and,
Smiled his light onto them below.
This was made by my fanfiction friend called Sam-Chan who gave it to me! :3
Àŧùl May 2015
Flying over a field of red flowers,
These wings of doom threaten.

Away they may vanish now,
For a pretty sight they make not.

The wings are not of flesh & bones,
They are of metals that threaten.

Carrying not a casual bird they are,
But engines of war and agents of death.

Men guiding like agents of the Devil,
Not like motherly angels of the God.

In contrast with the roses below,
They don't give elegant poses above.

Silent death sweeps closely overhead,
Among the roses readies our death bed.
The above poem was inspired by a photograph that Poet Gary Liles shared on Facebook.

My HP Poem #853
©Atul Kaushal
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