The Cross-Roads
Once more I write a line to you,
While darker shadows fall;
Dear friends of mine who have been true,
And steadfast through it all.
If I have written bitter rhymes,
With many lines that halt,
And if I have been false at times
It was not all my fault.
To Heaven’s decree I would not bow,
And I sank very low—
The bitter things are written now,
And we must let them go.
But I feel softened as I write;
The better spirit springs,
And I am very sad to-night
Because of many things.
The friendships that I have abused,
The trust I did betray,
The talents that I have misused,
The gifts I threw away.
The things that did me little good,
And—well my cheeks might burn—
The kindly letters that I should
Have answered by return.
But you might deem them answered now,
And answered from my heart;
And injured friends will understand
’Tis I who feel the smart.
But I have done with barren strife
And dark imaginings,
And in my future work and life
Will seek the better things.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Temptations Pass You By
As I think about things in the darkness of night,
There is something that turns that darkness into light.
The darkest of night is presented by the things that happened and not planned,
And the Light is presented by what the Lord does for us and we try to understand.
So as we all walk and wander lost and go around,
We need to seek the LORD and ask him to help us get found.
This makes me want to make that I do everything for Christ and be fair,
Taking this time to develop the daily strength and discipline the bonding time and prayer.
It is also good for me to think of the positive things in life and put them in their place,
Living a life like this will keep Christ in your heart and showing of your face.
So as we think about the things that and go and tempt us from the start,
We should remember Do What Jesus Would Do in our heart.
By remember the Story of Jesus being tempted in the desert by Satan for 40 Days/Nights.
And how Jesus looked at him and then bent and prayed until He saw the True Light.
Satan asked Him if you are hungry and you are the Son of God then you can turn this stone to bread.
Jesus answered, and said I am the Son of God and man cannot live on bread alone, but on the words that come out of God's mouth instead.
As Satan took Christ up to the top of the Holy City, and He asked Christ if you the Son of God then throw yourself down and have the angles lift you up and prove me that you are the best.
Well Christ answered him that it is written not to put god to the test.
Finally Satan took Jesus up very high and showed him the kingdoms of the world and said this can be yours if you bend down and worship me.
Jesus looked at him and told to back away because it is written that I am here to worship my Father only.
But also think of the things that Christ would want us to do,
For God will help you and deliver you through.
poem by Frank Pulver
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Me
Ask me how I'm doing? 'Very good I say '
My life is good, bad memories I try and keep away
I write as therapy to get me through
All the pain from the past, when I was blue
I write alot of things, about my life
I write about things that brought me strife
I am constantly thinking what to write about
Sometimes I write so I have no need to shout
Sometimes I write straight from my heart
Maybe helping others to get a brand new start
Alot of time depression comes sneaking in
And that's when I get out my paper and pen
I look around me and will always see
That there are those that had it worse than me
I write as a hobby because I enjoy it so
It makes all the bad things have to go
I'm not usually sad by any means
Sometimes insecure, thats from my genes
I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me
My life is good and I'm finally free
So if this explains me a little bit
I think this poem I will submit!
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Good People Become Friends
When Good People Become Friends
Things work better.
Things work together
Things work out.
When Good People Become Friends
Listening become hearing
seeing become insight
Attention becomes nurture.
When Good People Become Friends
Generosity becomes sharing
Sacrifices become pleasures
Rightful obedience becomes an uncommon delight.
When Good People Become Friends
Joys become happiness
Comfort becomes peace
Needs become an abundance.
When Good people Become Friends
Acquaintances become friendships
Concern becomes caring
Likenesses become divine love.
When Good People Become Friends
Traveling becomes a journey
Endeavors come into fruition
Living becomes Life.
When Good People Become Friends
Gifts become blessings
Blessings become anointings
Anointings become endowments.
When Good People Become Friends
Love becomes power
Weaknesses become strength
And death, Death becomes a new birth.
When Good People Become Friends.
poem by Cecelia Weir
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Can't Stand It (Live On Letterman)
The way things go
You get so low
Struggle to find your skin
Hey ho
Look out below
Your prayers will never be answered again
Phones still ring
And singers sing
Speakers are speaking in code
What now
Well anyhow
Our prayers will never be answered again
You know it's all beginning
(It's all beginning)
To feel like It's ending
(Feels like It's ending)
No loves as random
As God's love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
The way things get
You get so high
Funny how we make new friends
Oh hey ho
I gotta go
My prayers will never be answered again
You know It's all beginning
(it's all beginning)
To feel like It's ending
(Feels like It's ending)
No loves as random
As God's love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
Speakers speaking
Speakers speaking
Speaking in code
Speakers speaking
Speakers speaking
Speaking in code
You know It's all beginning
(it's all beginning)
To feel like pretending
(To feel like pretending)
No loves as random
As my love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
Your prayers will never be answered again
Your prayers will never be answered again
Your prayers will never be answered again
Your prayers will never be answered again
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing Verse
It's hard to think on what to say.
I've written so much on every day.
I've taken liberties with my pen,
Indulged in fantasies over and again.
I've tried my best to conquer fear.
I've also tried to bring a tear
To the eyes of those that read what I write
whether it's of misery or grand delight.
For sensitivity is needed in everyone.
For the best of all can come undone
when man or woman cannot cry
or forget what it's like to feel a sigh.
And so my friends I write for you
about all of the things folks go through.
When I retire this pen of mine
I'll do it with gratitude for every line.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Two Word Lines
I write
my pain
and its
just another poem
its just
the same
all the heart ache that goes onto this page
only takes me back to the place where I await
behind the curtains of an empty stage
the pain
I write
I wrote this
I locked my own cage
I threw away the key to he that did see me rage
and still
I write
yes still
I fight
hoping that I might find something you feel
because these two word lines are just rhymes
when I say them back they aren't real
I'm sick and tired of talking about better times
forcing things like a relationship two people don't really want
a mum and dad staying together for the sake of the kids when the love is really gone.
Look at this back and see my two word lines
see my two word lines
are one.
poem by Daniel McCann
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You Are The One I Been Looking For
Out of every guy is you
You answered all my questions that I couldn't do myself
You are angel come to save me from this broken road and
Lead me into right direction
You are the one I been looking for
You make me understand life
I feel so alive and free
I couldn't feel like this if it wasn't for you
I'm changing all the time because of you
I care about your opinion and what you think about me
You know I like you
I shouldn't have write on there
If I'm not going do anything about it
I never meant to hurt, make you jealous, and I was never mad at you
I was dumb for what I done to you and make you think different of me
You are different out of every guy in good way
I enjoy your laugh, jokes, smile, and goofy sides of you and who you are
You are the most wonderful person I ever meet
On negative side if worst that I have to deal with your friends think they know who I am
You want to found out about me and what your friends think about me
You want to test me, practice me in certain areas, and subjects
I get why, but I didn't realized at time
This was way different than I expect out of you
I am blushing and smiling around you
It's been long time
Everything is because of you
I can enjoy life, see how much I miss out, and have fun again for first time
I want to take risks, do things I never do before
No more sad songs or past
It's you I see now
You are the one I been looking for
I feel so bless to found you
Thank you for everything
You are always one person there to make me feel better when I'm in bad mood and
I start laughing and smile all because of you
When we smile at each other
I get all this sparks back and is was good moment
I just no way to approach you and this time is different
You have a face of famous person even if you are not one
I will not cry anymore if this doesn't work out
I know to let it go and learn from this
This is life and life is not fair
I get it and know better
I should realized what did I got myself in first place
If like this with you, how you feel about this situation, and
I put myself though something that end like this
There is nothing left to say
You are the one I been looking for
poem by Christina Phan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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The Writer's Dream
A writer wrote of the hearts of men, and he followed their tracks afar;
For his was a spirit that forced his pen to write of the things that are.
His heart grew tired of the truths he told, for his life was hard and grim;
His land seemed barren, its people cold—yet the world was dear to him;—
So he sailed away from the Streets of Strife, he travelled by land and sea,
In search of a people who lived a life as life in the world should be.
And he reached a spot where the scene was fair, with forest and field and wood,
And all things came with the seasons there, and each of its kind was good;
There were mountain-rivers and peaks of snow, there were lights of green and gold,
And echoing caves in the cliffs below, where a world-wide ocean rolled.
The lives of men from the wear of Change and the strife of the world were free—
For Steam was barred by the mountain-range and the rocks of the Open Sea.
And the last that were born of a noble race—when the page of the South was fair—
The last of the conquered dwelt in peace with the last of the victors there.
He saw their hearts with the author’s eyes who had written their ancient lore,
And he saw their lives as he’d dreamed of such—ah! many a year before.
And ‘I’ll write a book of these simple folk ere I to the world return,
‘And the cold who read shall be kind for these—and the wise who read shall learn.
‘Never again in a song of mine shall a jarring note be heard:
‘Never again shall a page or line be marred by a bitter word;
‘But love and laughter and kindly hours will the book I’ll write recall,
‘With chastening tears for the loss of one, and sighs for their sorrows all.
‘Old eyes will light with a kindly smile, and the young eyes dance with glee—
‘And the heart of the cynic will rest awhile for my simple folk and me.’
The lines ran on as he dipped his pen—ran true to his heart and ear—
Like the brighter pages of memory when every line is clear.
The pictures came and the pictures passed, like days of love and light—
He saw his chapters from first to last, and he thought it grand to write.
And the writer kissed his girlish wife, and he kissed her twice for pride:
‘’Tis a book of love, though a book of life! and a book you’ll read!’ he cried.
He was blind at first to each senseless slight (for shabby and poor he came)
From local ‘Fashion’ and mortgaged pride that scarce could sign its name.
What dreamer would dream of such paltry pride in a scene so fresh and fair?
But the local spirit intensified—with its pitiful shams—was there;
There were cliques wherever two houses stood (no rest for a family ghost!)
They hated each other as women could—but they hated the stranger most.
The writer wrote by day and night and he cried in the face of Fate—
‘I’ll cleave to my dream of life in spite of the cynical ghosts that wait.
‘’Tis the shyness born of their simple lives,’ he said to the paltry pride—
(The homely tongues of the simple wives ne’er erred on the generous side)—
‘They’ll prove me true and they’ll prove me kind ere the year of grace be passed,’
But the ignorant whisper of ‘axe to grind!’ went home to his heart at last.
The writer sat by his drift-wood fire three nights of the South-east gale,
His pen lay idle on pages vain, for his book was a fairy tale.
The world-wise lines of an elder age were plain on his aching brow,
As he sadly thought of each brighter page that would never be written now.
‘I’ll write no more!’ But he bowed his head, for his heart was in Dreamland yet—
‘The pages written I’ll burn,’ he said, ‘and the pages thought forget.’
But he heard the hymn of the Open Sea, and the old fierce anger burned,
And he wrenched his heart from its dreamland free as the fire of his youth returned:—
‘The weak man’s madness, the strong man’s scorn—the rebellious hate of youth
‘From a deeper love of the world are born! And the cynical ghost is Truth!’
And the writer rose with a strength anew wherein Doubt could have no part;
‘I’ll write my book and it shall be true—the truth of a writer’s heart.
‘Ay! cover the wrong with a fairy tale—who never knew want or care—
‘A bright green scum on a stagnant pool that will reek the longer there.
‘You may starve the writer and buy the pen—you may drive it with want and fear—
‘But the lines run false in the hearts of men—and false to the writer’s ear.
‘The bard’s a rebel and strife his part, and he’ll burst from his bonds anew,
‘Till all pens write from a single heart! And so may the dream come true.
‘’Tis ever the same in the paths of men where money and dress are all,
‘The crawler will bully whene’er he can, and the bully who can’t will crawl.
‘And this is the creed in the local hole, where the souls of the selfish rule;
‘Borrow and cheat while the stranger’s green, then sneer at the simple fool.
‘Spit your spite at the men whom Fate has placed in the head-race first,
‘And hate till death, with a senseless hate, the man you have injured worst!
‘There are generous hearts in the grinding street, but the Hearts of the World go west;
‘For the men who toil in the dust and heat of the barren lands are best!
‘The stranger’s hand to the stranger, yet—for a roving folk are mine—
‘The stranger’s store for the stranger set—and the camp-fire glow the sign!
‘The generous hearts of the world, we find, thrive best on the barren sod,
‘And the selfish thrive where Nature’s kind (they’d bully or crawl to God!)
‘I was born to write of the things that are! and the strength was given to me.
‘I was born to strike at the things that mar the world as the world should be!
‘By the dumb heart-hunger and dreams of youth, by the hungry tracks I’ve trod—
‘I’ll fight as a man for the sake of truth, nor pose as a martyred god.
‘By the heart of “Bill” and the heart of “Jim,” and the men that their hearts deem “white,”
‘By the handgrips fierce, and the hard eyes dim with forbidden tears!—I’ll write!
‘I’ll write untroubled by cultured fools, or the dense that fume and fret—
‘For against the wisdom of all their schools I would stake mine instinct yet!
‘For the cynical strain in the writer’s song is the world, not he, to blame,
‘And I’ll write as I think, in the knowledge strong that thousands think the same;
‘And the men who fight in the Dry Country grim battles by day, by night,
‘Will believe in me, and will stand by me, and will say to the world, “He’s right!”’
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only Heaven Knows
My intentions are good, my hearts in the right place now
You see I wanna be good to you baby
But sometimes I just dont know how
And the hand of fate, reaches out once more
And pulls me though that gate
Like one hundred times before
Ooh, there are the nights, when things just work out right
No one could be as close as you and me
Then it all breaks down, and we cant find that common ground
Thats not the way, the way it oughta be baby
Why do we laugh, why do we cry
Why do we feel this pain inside
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
In this game of hit and miss
How long can we go on like this
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
But if we threw it all away
Its something wed regret someday
Heaven knows
Why do we do these foolish things
Only heaven knows
My intentions are good, my actions are hard to explain
I get misunderstood sometimes
Theres nobody but me to blame
Ive gotta speak my mind, and deal with the situation
Open the lines
The lines of communication
Ooh there are the nights, we really get it right
Makin love, endlessly
And then there are the days, we go our separate ways
As though theres nothin left of you and me
Why do we laugh, why do we cry
Why do we feel this pain inside
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
In this game of hit and miss
How long can we go on like this
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
But if we threw it all away
Its something wed regret someday
Heaven knows
Why do we laugh, why do we cry
Why do we feel this pain inside
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
In this game of hit and miss
How long can we go on like this
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
But if we threw it all away
Its something wed regret someday
Why do we do these foolish things
Only heaven knows, only heaven knows
I wanna be good to you baby
Heaven knows, etc.
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Things That Dreams Are Made Of
Take time to see the wonders of the world
To see the things youve only ever heard of
Dream life the way you think it ought to be
See things you thought youd never ever see
Take a cruise to china
Or a train to spain
Go round the world
Again and again
Meet a girl on a boat
Meet a boy on a train
And fall in love
Without the pain
Everybody needs love and adventure
Everybody needs cash to spend
Everybody needs love and affection
Everybody needs 2 or 3 friends
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
Take a lift to the top of the empire state
Take a drive across the golden gate
March, march, march across red square
Do all the things youve ever dared
Everybody needs love and adventure
Everybody needs cash to spend
Everybody needs love and affection
Everybody needs 2 or 3 friends
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
Like fun and money and food and love
And things you never thought of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
New york, ice cream, tv, travel, good times
Norman wisdom, johnny, joey, dee dee, good times
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
These are the things
These are the things
The things that dreams are made of
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I want to write such things as compel the admiring acclamation of the world at large, such things as are written but once in years, things subtle but distinctly different from the books written every day.
quote by Mary MacLane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Go
I took your photographs, I threw them all away
I put your calls on hold cause I got nothin to say
Hangin on to you, that was my first mistake
Yeah, yeah
But some things you can never let go
Some things you can never let go
You took the credit cards, you took the bank account
You took my sanity. youve got me all drawn out
Id give it all away to get you off my mind
Yeah, yeah
But some things you can never let go
Some things you should never let em show
Some things you can never let go
Let go, let go
Dont keep draggin it out
Let go, let go
Youre no good for me now
How much more can I take?
I cant spend my whole life in the dark
Now you gotta let go of my heart
I took your photographs, I threw them all aside
Forget your so called friends, I kissed em all goodbye
If I walk away, would you be satisfied?
Yeah, yeah
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Suicide Note
There’s nothing left up in my life,
Everything went wrong,
And I always cried,
Nobody ever loved me,
Nobody loves me,
Life now seems like a dark night,
I feel this right,
Now it’s time to write,
A Suicide Note…..
I want to die,
I’ll have to die,
My mind says this,
But heart asks why?
I answered my heart with a question,
What is worth living a life?
Where happiness was never seen as an emotion?
He said that
Your past was good,
Your past was bad,
But don’t recall the times,
Which make you sad,
There’s a very bright future
In front of you,
Where you can find many springs
And winter few,
But this can only happen if you give up to die,
And see a brighter side of your life…
I wasn’t satisfied
With what he said,
So I repeated,
That for me now, nobody cared,
He then stared me for a while,
And started to explain with a smile,
That,
Mon runs behind you to take your meal,
Dad suggest you to have control on wheels,
Friends are always with you,
Whatever the matter,
So, do you think if you die,
Their life will be better?
But I shouted No!
Nobody loves me,
I never hurted anyone
But everybody hurts me…
He said that don’t act childish,
You know you are lying,
Listening to his words,
I started crying,
But he continued to say that,
Haven’t you given you mom,
The hardest pain ever when you were born,
Haven’t you hurted your dad,
By spending his money to throw a party,
Which he had saved to buy you a watch,
So that his son may learn punctuality…
But they didn’t cry,
And tried to die,
But instead always smiled,
As you were in their life,
So my dear friend,
Try to understand,
If you tried to stop your breath,
You’ll be the reason for many deaths,
Your mom, dad, sister and brother,
Love you more than any other,
I realized that I was wrong,
And this life is a journey,
Very long,
You may get lost in your way,
Or miss some turns some time,
But be patient as everything,
One day, will be fine,
I wanted to write a suicide not,
But ended up writing this simple thought,
It’s hard to live but even harder to die,
So respect the most special gift of Lord,
This Beautiful Life!
poem by Apurva Jain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ain't It Funny
It was too early for a romance
And already I've received the criticism of the tongue
Not knowing of the true nature of our relationship
Instead it is based on assumption that we're an item
Friends, say that I am no good
And that you're wasting time with me
It'll never amount to what you desire
But that's not how I see things
Because I feel that your just a friend
And nothing else beyond that
People always talk about false information
Should I care what was said? Ain't it funny
Friends whisper unnessary things in your ear
Should I care what was shared? Ain't it funny
You seem somewhat affected, Don't let it get under your skin
You know of our history
Friends always seem to mention
the bad things that I do
When It's none of their business
Ain't it Funny
poem by Marcquiese Burrell
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I think the things I wanted answered have been answered by people in the know that we can't talk about, so I'm perfectly happy with how Chewie came to be where he is and what is going on in Episode III.
quote by Peter Mayhew
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Things
You kiss me awake in the mornin'
Now what a way to start the day
With love notes that you leave me
Written in your own special way
You call me up for nothin'
I hear your voice on the line
We start talkin' 'bout lovin'
You get to me everytime
It's those little things you do that make me love you so
Little things that only you and I could ever know
You don't have to lay the whole wide world here at my feel, oh no
It's those little things you do that mean the most to me
Lyin' in the bed beside you
Touchin' in the middle of the night
No you don't have to do any talkin'
To tell me everything is all right
It's those little things you do that make me love you so
Little things that only you and I will ever know
You don't have to lay the whole wide world here at my feel, oh no
It's those little things you do that mean the most to me
It's those little things you do that mean the most to me
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Almighty Pen
the pen is mightier than the sword
and stronger than the mightiest men.
with the pen petitions can be signed
it can be accepted, or it can be declined.
the people on death row with no where to go.
they know that the pen can set them free
or put them to death instantly.
you can write your name
or get the autograph of someone of fame.
there are so many things that the pen can do
it all depends on you.
the declaration was written with a pen
the signatures of all those famous men.
for centuries the pen has been used and abused.
it's been used for good and for bad
for happy times, and for sad.
it's been used for letters of love
hate, bitterness, and faith.
the pen and all its glory
always telling the perfect story.
for such a little thing that fits in your hand
it is known through out all lands.
all my poetry is written with a pen
and to me he is the perfect friend.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Best Friends
For JoAnn and Meggie
There are two young ladies
I think of as my best friends.
If ever I have a problem
that was eating away at me
I could go to either of them
and they would comfort me.
I’d do the same for them
at anytime night or day.
Not only are they my best friends,
they are my writing partners in poetry
when we write under
JoJo Bean, Dodgy Dave and Meggie Gultiano.
Although we have never met
as each of us live thousands of miles away,
they are still my best friends.
Some may never understand
why I say that at all,
they may even argue that statement
saying how can you be best friends
with people you have never met.
I’d reply just look at the poetry
we have together written
it speaks of three writing together with one voice,
of friendship with a deep loving bond for one another.
Therefore, when I say they are my best friends
I say that with sincerity,
and my words come from my heart.
Therefore, ladies now you know
just what you mean to me
and I want the whole world
to see and understand
that best friends can live anywhere
even in far off distant lands.
Friendships hold no boundaries
and are not restricted by what we are.
The key is how you feel
towards every one of them.
I have been lucky in having many friends
of many religions, nationalities and creeds,
but JoAnn and Meggie are my best friends,
and I know it will always stay that way.
Thank you ladies
for always being there for me.
David aka Dodgy Dave
9 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Used As Blood Transfusions
What am I hoping to accomplish,
With my 'poetic' offerings?
That's a good question.
Maybe one day they will be used,
As blood transfusions.
'You are joking, right? '
Of course I am.
I meant heart transplants.
But then again,
Some of the 'stuff' I write...
Have lives of their own.
They may not want to be used,
To jump start somebody else's existence.
'Well...
I must admit,
Some things written do seem to have lives...
All their own.'
That's true.
I have written some things to have people tell me,
I wrote as if I was looking inside their hearts.
And...
They had not a clue,
I knew that already.
Most writers to be admired have that ability.
However,
I will admit...
I do wish to have my 'work',
Flowing through the veins of people.
'You are such a joker.'
I know.
Some have found me to be,
Quite hysterical.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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