Ok, so here's the deal
I've got waaaay to many poems

I can't find specific ones
Eliot's search engine, just ain't, goin

What if we had a better one?
one that actually finds words or lines?

Ya think he'd be on board with that?
or think it, a waste, of time?

We could search our own, or others
and find some inspiration, and a muse

Or we could just stay right here
and all our sanity, lose

I'd like a better search engine
I'd like it here, and now

I'd like a better search engine
someway, right here, somehow

Holy cow, the search here really sucks, bad D:
C'mon Eliot, has to be a better solution? Please? Maybe?

I keep adding to this LOL, can't help myself :D
Leila Shearer Nov 10

I could write a whole list of loves
But why would I
If you won't read it?


A thought I just had after saving a quote.
Leila Shearer Dec 2016

A simple sound
Containing thought
And emotion,
Some expressed
Most bound.

The only thing we can share
The only thing we will share
The only thing we have
Are words.


How tired I've become
Of meaningless muttering.


Sincerely 10h

You are no winner,
So don’t act like I’m a prize to be won.
You can’t pay your way to win me.
I am a challenge, indeed.
I am not supposed to be easy to win over.
Because I’m not.

So bet all you like.
Say all you want.
Throw what you want;
Paper planes, words.
I don’t care anymore.

You are so precious
Words can't easily express
What I feel for you


ljh, you're effortlessly beautiful inside and out that it leaves me speechless.
deery 14h

living life , like reading a book
read over and over
knowing it forwards and backwards
understanding the beginning and end
I want a different book

give me new life

I color words with my anxious, greedy thumbs,
And paint mental pictures with my diction until its numb,
Hoping one day to be known as the Profound Prophet,
But I can't seem to untie the belt tied inside the closet.
Maybe I should be known as the Absent Minded,
Unconsciously assisting my fellow man that's been blinded,
Making sure that their happy endings get finded-
Found*. Whatever, words are just symbols,
Give them meaning and they protect like a thimble,
Or cause damage like knives sharpened by the a syllable,
Words can kill but at the same time are themselves, killable.
My words don't harm, they heal the injured heart,
Seek the perpetrator, and tear them apart.
Call me the defender of love, or a purveyor of wisdom,
Or a street rat cuz if they want it they can get some,
But I assist the community one by one, on a mass scale,
And I pursue my passions in life studiously; without fail.
In short I guess you could say that this was a confession,
But nah, I'll jot this down as another rhyme session.

Just another freestyle.
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