| Poetry Page II |
| This World This world puts us In places that we Cannot exlpain away, In places we need to be, To meet certain people, To become a certain person, To do certain things. This world gives us A mission for our hearts, To be strong , To go to certain places, To help us become the People we are meant to be., To do the things we are meant to do. This world gives us People who stick by us, To be a friend, To be more than a friend, To trust in us like we trust in them, To help us become what we need to be, To love , to support Even when they think we are wrong To go to the places we need to go, To become what we need to be. |
| i am stuck between yes and no. between hurt and questions. there are two roads and only me. doubt plagues me. what now? i love you yes. but you confuse me yes. please god help me. |
| Sleep All I want is A warm bed, Soft blankets, And hours free to waste on dreams. Dreams that twist and turn To unexpected events, With famous people Or just friends. Oh how I long for sleep, My comfortable clothing. Ah to feel safe in dreams, Please someone grant me sleep. |
| Journey Into A Flower Soft petals. Bright colors. Infinte shadows. Delicate folds. Green stems, That twist. Sweet flowers. |
| I Remember I remember you. Oh, how I remember you! Your eyes, your dark hair, Your inescapable face. How I wish you would have remembered me. Its been so long since We walked together. We used to be inseparable I remember you. What happened to you? How did you turn into the Stranger here before me? Why did you forget me then? Why come back now? When there is nothing to be gained. I remember you. Oh, how I remember you! My fantasy, my dream Was you all along. You remember now When its far too late for forgiveness. I will remember you always As a distant part of my past. |
| Poetry Page II |
| V White roses lay across her hands, While in her permenant sleep. No breath came from her pale lips. No heart beat in her still chest. Her truest love hid himself from site. He had driven her to this sleep Through his own imagined madness. Sweet disillusioned Ophelia, If she only knew he had loved her. |