| I also enjoy reading other people's poetry. Modern poetry doesn't exist, you say. I disagree with you, my friend. Poetry is all around us ... in the music, in the wind, and in your soul. You just haven't found your personal muse to free the poetry within you. Here are some examples where other people have tapped their inner-poet... |
| I Wish ...
When you are Lonely, I wish you Love. When you are Down, I wish you Joy. When you are Troubled, I wish you Peace. When things are Complicated, I wish you simple Beauty. When things are Chaotic, I wish you inner Silence. When things are Empty, I wish you Hope. ~ Author Unknown ~ |
| Each of us has a hidden place,
Somewhere deep within ourselves; A place where we go to get away, To think things through, to be alone, to be ourselves. This unique place, where we confront our deepest feelings, Becomes the storehouse of all our hopes; All our needs, all our dreams, and even our unspoken fears. It encompasses the essence of who we are And what we want to be. But now and then, whether by chance or design, Someone discovers a way into that place We thought was ours alone. And we allow that person to see, to feel and to share All the reason, all the uncertainty and all the emotion We've stored up there. That person adds new perspective to our hidden realm, Then quietly settles down in his own corner Of our special place, Where a bit of himself will stay forever, And we call that person a friend. ~ Author Unknown ~ |
| Angel
~Sarah McLachlan~ Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance; For the break that will make it okay. There's always some reason to feel not good enough; And it's hard at the end of the day. I need some distraction or a beautiful release; Memories seep from my veins. Let me be empty and weightless and maybe; I'll find some peace tonight. In the arms of the Angel, far away from here; From this dark, cold hotel room and the endlessness that you feel. You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie; You're in the arms of the Angel, may you find some comfort here. So tired of the straight line, where everywhere you turn; There's vultures and theives at your back. The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies; That make up for all that you lack. It don't make no difference, escape one last time; It's easier to believe in this sweet madness. Oh, the glory and sadness, That brings me to my knees. In the arms of the Angel, far away from here; From the dark, cold hotel room and the endlessness that you feel. You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie; You're in the arms of the Angel, may you find some comfort here. In the arms of the Angel, may you find some comfort here. |
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