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How do we determine what is remembered of us?
How do we make it seem like we're kind?
How do we let our ghost linger for our loved ones?
How do we express ourselves on our tombstones?
How do we tell people new things we see?
How do you feel?
How is the rain going to sound and taste?
How do you let them move on without you?
How do we determine what is remembered of us?
i'm back:)
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, don't really know what I'm trying to say here;}

every word in poetry

I want written on my stone in the cemetery

they fly in the perspective

in every human eye changed-disrespective

no faults on the creation all undeniable artistic behavior

faithful not for me loyalty not a word to my savior

hands barely reaching a touch

others marvelous not asking much

I have not written in quite some time.
I have not jotted down my thoughts or committed to a rhyme.
But I think of poems each day,
of words spun with careful concentration.
I believe in the mind and its prowess,
and of the power I possess.
While I have taken a break,
I refuse to sit and stop,
for I am not done writing.
I have greatly missed this place and the people I have encountered. I have missed poetry.
listening to music with my friend Liam is cathartic.
I write poetry and he edits photos.
What the artistic pair we are.

We sing and laugh as we talk of hues of different edits.
We chill with my dog and we dance to the beat.
We sway and sway as the minute's pass, almost like they faded too fast.
We sing to popular songs, old songs,
love songs, getting over you songs.
The genre's as colorful as the sky in a midwestern state.
you name it, we listen to it.
I think we should all learn to  see the beauty in all genres of music and to realize
"It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over".
She can walk
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..

I knew this day was special
when I opened up my eyes
And saw the pastel ribbons
floating soft on dawning skies

A gift was out there waiting
wrapped in beautiful display
Just waiting to be opened
on this very special day

More than just a Monday
or at least that’s how it seems
Because it is a present
of my truly answered dreams

For here we have September
with the 28th in view
The day l get to send some
happy birthday smiles to you

: )

Happy Birthday to a very sweet and dear friend.
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