My dear,
they say that a poem is a work of art.
they say that It is emotion,
pouring from your bleeding heart.
and I find that to be quite true,
but not every emotion is happiness anew.
the sadness the anger and pain and fear,
they each have a place to reside in here.
for such raw emotion does set the tide
for the torrent of words
that in a poem, does reside.

She’s pure as white,
Yet it hides her from the world,
Like a rabbit in a snowstorm,
Innocence blankets her true colours,
I always loved winter,
The idea of the world covered in white,
As if the world could wear a mask once a year and pretend to be innocent,
We indulge in the spirits of the holidays and for a little while,
Everything is okay.

Hello.
I am the trending poem.                                                            ­            
         you see me and I make you feel alive
                                             so you like me and re-post me
                                                              ­    then you leave me alone to die.
Hello,
I am your forgotten lines.
             you created me with a careful love
                                                          an­d decisive rhymes
                                      and then to the bottom of your page I'm shoved.
Hello
I am forgotten, alone and unloved
                           a faded smile a broken dove
                                               I once was beautiful, touching.
                                                       ­   now, I've been replaced, I'm nothing.

I have sung too much, too long, of pain.
The litany of syllables dictating pangs of wounds
And memories of shattered hearts and minds
Has drowned out all else.
My suit, my complaint, has become a filibuster
Against the very light whose absence I mourn.

I do not reproach myself for it;
T’was necessary, and, more importantly,
It was thoroughly real.
Even the bleakest song was a worthy agony
And so this is not a new lament,
But a canticle of reversal.

Now I will sing of truth, for truth is beautiful and good.
I will sing of wisdom in her refulgence,
I will sing of knowledge upon her ivory throne,
I will sing of understanding which pierces the veil,
Breaking down barriers between hearts and minds,
Of that light which dispels ignorant shadows.

I will sing of goodness, for goodness is true and beautiful.
I will sing of courage, hero’s courage, bold, ****** courage,
I will sing of love, mother’s love, sacrificial love,
I will sing of charity, generous charity, of humble almsgiving,
I will sing of justice, no less just for being merciful,
I will sing of humility, so true and sweet it will not sing for itself.

I will sing of beauty, for beauty is good and true.
I will learn at the knees of the weeping willow,
And the stoic mountain shall reveal his smile,
I will rediscover sunrise and sunset with each revolution of earth,
And I will dance with the birds of paradise,
Cackling gleeful with cheering toads and crickets and hooting apes,

And I will sing you a new song.