It is me who walks the streets
with rusty shrapnel on my cheeks.
I am who it was,
whom nothing could be.

            Now
                    run as far as the eye can see.
I fall off the edge of the world.

But please remember,
                                remember this for me.
I really love you.
             This white rose I know of.

All your potential is to be
whatever you want to be
All your energy is to do
whatever you want to do
Don't listen to anyone;
be how you want to be
Doing what you want to do
But each day, take one
step towards your dream
Though at times it may
seem too difficult to continue
But don't forget your dream
One day you will reach
your goal
Touching every ones soul!
----de3pak

Pretending a day is forever
Then watching you hurry away
It’s a game we play together
We are strangers in the light of day.
I’ve learned to lie with my eyes
To act like we never were lovers
When I am nobody you ever claim
We won’t walk in sunshine together.

The love of my life is a stranger
And this is the price I have paid
I smile when my heart is a wasteland
And, my life is a dance masquerade.
I’m dancing with a shadow
It looks so very real.
It moves with the rhythm
It does everything but feel.

I can only get so much reward
From rewriting each scene
From what it really was today
To what it might have been.
I am settling for a fantasy
Of what love is really about.
Picking up the scraps of dreams
That anyone else would throw out.

The love of my life is a stranger
And this is the price I have paid
I smile when my heart is a wasteland
And, my life is a dance masquerade.
I’m dancing with a shadow
It looks so very real.
It moves with the rhythm
It does everything but feel.

A silence with you
Is not
a silence

But a moment rich
with peace

Is it comfortable up there holding the moon in place?
Do your arms ever get tired?
Don't you know that's not your job?
You were supposed to be a shooting star, not my personal gravity.

our bread and butter...
     the web of stars,
     the scatter of moons
     and orbiting planets.
the entire universe
harvested and crammed
into the metre,
of a poetic verse.

our bread and butter...
     harnessing the regal rays of the sun.
     inflating the fluff of quiet clouds.
     drinking up the winds of the weather.
     revering the magic in the flight of birds.
we fill our cups to the brim...
with fantastical dreams
and let spill
over parchment
the cornucopia of idealised words.

our bread and butter...
the incessant peeling and picking
on healing wounds.
of which we have learnt to savour...
     let bleed
     the willing blood...
     feed the seeds
     with impending flood.
nurture to fruition
thoughts stunted in discretion.
bring to light
thoughts hidden in the nether.

our bread and butter...
we dip...
the nibs,
of our word worn feathers.
let them sink,
shallow beneath the surface
to the sanctity of a familiar place.
     *casting our trials,
     and tribulations...
     pent up emotions,
     and what we think
     unto paper
     with the burn of
     everlasting ink.

After the rain, I see the daisies,
In their clean, white dresses,
Fresh and perfect.
Washed and bright,
Their faces lifted to the skies,
And open to the sun.

Is it their youth that makes them so fearless,
Despite their diminutive size?
A naivety of spirit or
Lack of worldly knowledge?
Or do their fleeting, precarious lives
Lead them to so embrace the now?

No, their beauty springs from a truth far older,
For they are neither flashy nor flamboyant.
A daisy knows no subterfuge,
Has no jealousies, no conceit.
Its wisdom lies deeper,
And it bends with the wind.

To value the time that we have,
To see beauty in the smallest places,
And to love without fear,
Is a talent easily lost,
And the line between happy and sad is drawn
With a thin pencil and a light touch.

In miniature perfection,
A daisy lives fully,
Its face in the sunlight.
It lives, and that is enough.

Vicki Watson © 2014

Who is "Ryn" with a crying face?
We all want a certain poet to win this race.
"The Creep That Loves You", You got some Fame
It's a big deal on HP to know your name.
Grab a pen, make the perfect write...
it could take all day or even all night.
"Talula" keep enlightining us with your songs
a less popular poet, who had the talent all along.
"Monsterinsideme" keep on writing
with your poems around, what's the point on trying?
but everyday the game starts over
Good Luck Friend!! Here's my clover!