Forgive, but never forget.
As the pretty young teenager lay on the bed,
With the most darkest thoughts swimming through her head,
A minute she spent staring into space,
Wondering why society was so hard to face.
You see, this young girl had done nothing wrong,
Yet no matter how hard she tried she just didn't belong,
Simply because she wasn't perfect,
She was made to feel like, as a human, she wasn't worth it.
Depression and sadness became all this girl knew,
The urge to pick up the razor just grew and grew,
Alone in the world, she had no strength to fight,
That's when she decided tonight was the night,
Ending her life, she believed, was the only way,
How can she carry on when all she saw was grey,
So she picked up the knife and ran it through her skin,
Her life was gone before it could truly begin.
News of her death spread far and wide,
"What a shame, we had no idea, " they all cried,
She was the talk of the town for a while,
Before people moved on and regained their smile,
For the teenagers who society remembers with regret,
We shall never forget.
poem by Just Paige
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Related quotes
Dream Fable
I saw myself in a wide green garden, more beautiful than I could begin to understand. In this garden was a young girl. I said to her, "How wonderful this place is!"
"Would you like to see a place even more wonderful than this?" she asked.
"Oh yes," I answered. Then taking me by the hand, she led me on until we came to a magnificent palace, like nothing that was ever seen by human eyes. The young girl knocked on the door, and someone opened it. Immediately both of us were flooded with light.
Only Allah knows the inner meaning of the maidens we saw living there. Each one carried in her hand a serving-tray filled with light. The young girl asked the maidens where they were going, and they answered her, "We are looking for someone who was drowned in the sea, and so became a martyr. She never slept at night, not one wink! We are going to rub funeral spices on her body."
"Then rub some on my friend here," the young girl said.
"Once upon a time," said the maidens, "part of this spice and the fragrance of it clung to her body -- but then she shied away."
Quickly the young girl let go of my hand, turned, and said to me:
"Your prayers are your light;
Your devotion is your strength;
Sleep is the enemy of both.
Your life is the only opportunity that life can give you.
If you ignore it, if you waste it,
You will only turn to dust."
Then the young girl disappeared.
poem by Rabia al Basri
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I'm Dead
Forget the girl you used to know,
The one you thought was 'sound'.
Forget the girl you never noticed
And didn't care when she was around.
Forget the girl you used to talk to
But never looked to truly 'see'.
Forget that girl, the world's lost her,
You'll never again see that girl in me.
Forget the girl who laughed at all your jokes,
The one with the nervous smile.
Forget her now because you don't care,
She just entertained you for a while.
Forget the girl that made YOU smile,
She won't do that anymore.
Forget her now until she's just a memory
Of someone you once knew before.
Forget that girl, but, I think you already did
As you picked that other girl instead.
Forget that girl, I've changed my ways
And now that girl is dead.
poem by Fiona Kennedy
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Itsy Bitsy Spider's Mrs
Itsy Bitsy Spider had it tough from the very start,
All he really wanted was to win the Mrs' heart,
But Mrs Spider was angry after a huge fight,
And scurried up the water spout, away from Itsy's sight.
So up went Itsy to the top of the water spout,
But when he reached the top the Mrs gave a shout,
Her rainfall of tears made him run back down,
And that's when Itsy decided to go to town.
Round and round Itsy ran, round and round the town,
"Help! " he yelled, "Help, help! The Mrs pushed me down! "
"I cannot take this pain" he cried, "We haven't spoken for hours"
And a kindly young gentleman said, "Why not give her flowers? "
Flowers, Itsy thought, that will prove I'm devout,
So up went Itsy, up the water spout.
The Mrs pushed him down again, tears in her eyes,
And quite distressed, Itsy gave an unhappy sigh.
Round and round Itsy ran, round and round the town,
"Help! " he yelled, "Help, help! The Mrs pushed me down! "
"I cannot take this pain" he cried, "I saw a tear in her eye"
And a jolly old baker said, "Why not make her a pie?
A pie, itsy thought, that will be the best tack,
So Itsy went up the water spout with a pie on his back.
The Mrs pushed him down again, moaning words of hate,
And Itsy didn't know how to make her emotions sate.
Round and round Itsy ran, round and round the town,
"Help! " he yelled, "Help, help! The Mrs pushed me down! "
"I cannot take this pain" he cried, "She says all we have is hate"
And a pretty little girl said, "Why not bring her on a date? "
A date, Itsy thought, that will ensure forgiveness!
So Itsy clambered up the spout, not wanting any less.
The Mrs pushed him down again, after her tears had rained,
And Itsy wished he could prove that his love was not feigned.
Standing at the bottom of the spout Itsy wondered what to do.
He thought and thought and then suddenly, he knew!
The way to win the Mrs' back was to simply tell the truth,
It can't be so hard, he thought, I've loved her since our youth.
At the bottom of the spout Itsy yelled to Mrs,
"My dear, my dear, how I miss your kisses! "
"I miss your lively eyes and your happy smile,
I need you back right now, if only for a little while".
"Please, oh please, you cannot just say goodbye,
Because if you don't forgive me, I know that I will die"
At the top of the spout the Mrs' rain stopped flowing,
Before Itsy new it, sunshine was growing.
Itsy saw the sun in her eyes and climbed swiftly to her side,
And Mrs Spider beamed at her husband with joy and pride.
poem by Lenore Lee
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My Young Girl Twenties
"It's not love, "
I said
"it's my Young Girl
caught in the glare of his attentions
basking, unable to look away,
held in the Grip of his Intensities
He's my Adventure
something which crashes into my need
to experience
beyond thought and feeling
larger than even
rationality."
"Have you asked him about his feelings"
she said, "about you? "
"I asked him" she said
"he didn't answer
couldn't articulate
Shrugging the Shrug
of the Twenty Something;
a Muted Muttering
about wanting to feel everything about me
push me to some limit
of my needs, my sexuality
my love, my fears
and I was a Faberge Egg
wanting him
to do all those things
be his accomplice
sooner or later to cry diamonds
when it is over."
My Young girl
wants it
wants to see if
and when
how I break
rebel or take
what he is offering.
I want to lay down with
that Danger
his Young Boy represents
imbibe all
its excitements
we both taking advantage
of Life's Reckless Expediency
the coin in trade of someone
like me in my twenties
choosing
each day
to stay or walk away
from relationships.
My Young Girl wants to
shed her innocence
spectacularly
and if I am honest
I want the sheer variety
to continue on
after him
to see what is more
in the Young Boys
I'm yet to encounter.
Is that crazy
wanting to live
without caution or regret
vulnerable
yet still confident
of survival?
Is that possible? "
"Maybe, " she said
'maybe not.'
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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All these years
"Mom, how did you mange all these years"
"I am fed up to hear all these to my ears"
"Can't you tell how to overcome? "
My sweet girl cried and asked anything to welcome
I had seen some changes on her beautiful face
She was coming up like anything in this life race
She had seen nothing or heard about hard life
What will she do when enter in somebody's life as wife?
I looked at her tense worry lines
She feared about being sidelined
I was little taken back at her simple question
I thought it is worth here to mention
Girls at young ease are easy target
They will slip into golden dream set
Think of some handsome prince to come and wed
Take her away from parent's home and lead
I knew about the prevalent of such thoughts
They may fall into trap and simply caught
They may sometimes take such hasty decision
And fell short of expectations with no precision
I got nerves of her fears and consoled
Life is not that hard as she has imagined
I made her to understand the two sides of the coin
Life is simple and as easy as journey to join
I gave her of my fine examples
How life was so nice without any troubles
She may do even better when faced with reality
She was class of her own with fine quality
This worked like magic and she was again cheerful
Hr doubts were removed and she looked even beautiful
Now she had everything including built up confidence
Ready to face any eventuality including the challenge
* Picture courtesy from unknown friend's album
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Gentle Alice Brown
It was a robber's daughter, and her name was ALICE BROWN,
Her father was the terror of a small Italian town;
Her mother was a foolish, weak, but amiable old thing;
But it isn't of her parents that I'm going for to sing.
As ALICE was a-sitting at her window-sill one day,
A beautiful young gentleman he chanced to pass that way;
She cast her eyes upon him, and he looked so good and true,
That she thought, "I could be happy with a gentleman like you!"
And every morning passed her house that cream of gentlemen,
She knew she might expect him at a quarter unto ten;
A sorter in the Custom-house, it was his daily road
(The Custom-house was fifteen minutes' walk from her abode).
But ALICE was a pious girl, who knew it wasn't wise
To look at strange young sorters with expressive purple eyes;
So she sought the village priest to whom her family confessed,
The priest by whom their little sins were carefully assessed.
"Oh, holy father," ALICE said, "'t would grieve you, would it not,
To discover that I was a most disreputable lot?
Of all unhappy sinners I'm the most unhappy one!"
The padre said, "Whatever have you been and gone and done?"
"I have helped mamma to steal a little kiddy from its dad,
I've assisted dear papa in cutting up a little lad,
I've planned a little burglary and forged a little cheque,
And slain a little baby for the coral on its neck!"
The worthy pastor heaved a sigh, and dropped a silent tear,
And said, "You mustn't judge yourself too heavily, my dear:
It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to fleece;
But sins like these one expiates at half-a-crown apiece.
"Girls will be girls - you're very young, and flighty in your mind;
Old heads upon young shoulders we must not expect to find:
We mustn't be too hard upon these little girlish tricks -
Let's see - five crimes at half-a-crown - exactly twelve-and-six."
"Oh, father," little Alice cried, "your kindness makes me weep,
You do these little things for me so singularly cheap -
Your thoughtful liberality I never can forget;
But, oh! there is another crime I haven't mentioned yet!
"A pleasant-looking gentleman, with pretty purple eyes,
I've noticed at my window, as I've sat a-catching flies;
He passes by it every day as certain as can be -
I blush to say I've winked at him, and he has winked at me!"
"For shame!" said FATHER PAUL, "my erring daughter! On my word
This is the most distressing news that I have ever heard.
Why, naughty girl, your excellent papa has pledged your hand
To a promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band!
"This dreadful piece of news will pain your worthy parents so!
They are the most remunerative customers I know;
For many many years they've kept starvation from my doors:
I never knew so criminal a family as yours!
"The common country folk in this insipid neighbourhood
Have nothing to confess, they're so ridiculously good;
And if you marry any one respectable at all,
Why, you'll reform, and what will then become of FATHER PAUL?"
The worthy priest, he up and drew his cowl upon his crown,
And started off in haste to tell the news to ROBBER BROWN -
To tell him how his daughter, who was now for marriage fit,
Had winked upon a sorter, who reciprocated it.
Good ROBBER BROWN he muffled up his anger pretty well:
He said, "I have a notion, and that notion I will tell;
I will nab this gay young sorter, terrify him into fits,
And get my gentle wife to chop him into little bits.
"I've studied human nature, and I know a thing or two:
Though a girl may fondly love a living gent, as many do -
A feeling of disgust upon her senses there will fall
When she looks upon his body chopped particularly small."
He traced that gallant sorter to a still suburban square;
He watched his opportunity, and seized him unaware;
He took a life-preserver and he hit him on the head,
And MRS. BROWN dissected him before she went to bed.
And pretty little ALICE grew more settled in her mind,
She never more was guilty of a weakness of the kind,
Until at length good ROBBER BROWN bestowed her pretty hand
On the promising young robber, the lieutenant of his band.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Us Two
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.
"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.
"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.
"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."
So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Another Acrostic ( In the style of Father William )
"Are you deaf, Father William!" the young man said,
"Did you hear what I told you just now?
"Excuse me for shouting! Don't waggle your head
"Like a blundering, sleepy old cow!
"A little maid dwelling in Wallington Town,
"Is my friend, so I beg to remark:
"Do you think she'd be pleased if a book were sent down
"Entitled 'The Hunt of the Snark?'"
"Pack it up in brown paper!" the old man cried,
"And seal it with olive-and-dove.
"I command you to do it!" he added with pride,
"Nor forget, my good fellow to send her beside
"Easter Greetings, and give her my love."
poem by Lewis Carroll
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She Ran so Fast
There was once a girl who wanted to run fast
She was the fastest in her home, the fastest in her class
She ran so fast she would break all the rules
Not to mention, all the records in all of her schools
All people called her, ‘Fastest in the world’
But that wasn’t nearly fast enough for this girl
She ran so fast gravity couldn’t carry her
And then one day, she ran past the sound barrier
One time,2 times,3 times, and 4
She mocked space shuttles in her quest to run more
Her feet never sored, her soul never tired
She ran so fast, she was lean as a wire
As she grew older, so did her legend
Her ambition grew bolder and made her feel destined
To become the fastest that ever existed
She was faster than stars shooting at night
But still she kept running, still she persisted
Till she outran her shadow and ran out her life
Some say that she ran faster than thought
And she could catch the waves of a laugh
Others say her physique was always so taut
She took the pictures and then outran the flash
“Life moved too slow, ” was her last known opinion
Before she ran herself into oblivion
poem by P.R. Prosper
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Sorrowful Love
A boy and a girl,
the best of friends.
From elementary to high school,
from beginning to end.
Through all those years,
their friendship grew.
They both felt the same,
but neither knew.
Each waking moment,
since the day they met,
They both loved each other,
sunrise to sunset.
He was all she had,
in her terrible life.
He was the one,
who kept her from her knife.
She was his angel,
she made him smile.
Though life threw him curves,
she made it all worth while.
Then one day,
things went terribly wrong.
The next few weeks
were like a very sad song.
He made her jealous,
on purpose he tried.
When the girl asked, 'Do you love her? '
on purpose he lied.
He played with jealousy,
like it was a game.
Little did he know,
things would never be the same.
His plan was working,
but he had no clue.
How wrong things would go,
the damage he would do.
One night she broke down,
feeling very alone.
Just her and the blade,
no one else home.
She dialled his number,
he answered, 'Hello'
She told him she loved him,
and hung up the phone.
He raced to her house,
just a minute too late.
Found her lying in blood,
her heart had no rate.
Beside her was a note,
in it her confession.
Her love for this boy,
her only obsession.
As he read the note,
he knelt down and cried.
He grabbed her knife,
that night they both died.
She was found in his arms,
both of them dead.
Under her note
his handwriting said:
I loved her so,
she never knew.
All this time
I loved her too
poem by Tiana Webb
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Perfect Girl
perfect girl, perfect smile,
perfect girl, stay for a while.
you hold my heart with your perfect touch,
perfect girl, i love u so much.
This perfect girl has amazing brown eyes.
Full of life attitude,
it's always hard for the goodbyes.
This perfect girl has been through helll and back
but even under hard times
she neva seems 2 crack
she's my perfect lovee :)
she the stars, the moon, nd thee whole sunlight
and before 2day ends,
i hope i can be hur perfect boy tonight
poem by Chris Soares
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Your Perfect Little Girl...
Your perfect little girl dropped a grade on her report card.
Your perfect little girl yelled at you last night.
Your perfect little girl painted her nails black.
Your perfect little girl lied to you all her life.
Your perfect little girl cries herself to sleep.
Your perfect little girl slits her wrists till she bleeds.
Your perfect little girl hates you.
Your perfect little girl hates herself.
Your perfect little girl has given up on life.
Your perfect little girl had a tantrum today.
Your perfect little girl has her head in the toilet after dinner.
Your perfect little girl wants to run away.
Your perfect little girl hasn't let you dry her tears.
Your perfect little girl disobeyed you.
Your perfect little girl hates the world.
Your perfect little girl is hated by the world.
Your perfect little girl is very unhappy.
Your perfect little girl tried to commit suicide.
Your perfect little girl became a disgrace.
Your perfect little girl keeps alot of secrets.
Your perfect little girl deals with everything on her own
Your perfect little girl had to grow up too fast.
Your perfect little girl is on the edge of breakdown.
Your perfect little girl just isn't so perfect anymore.
poem by Gabriela Valoy
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I Do Not Belong
Slave to the mind
It’s hard to find
The place that I belong....
Slave to the soul
I have played my role
To find where I belong
I do not belong here
I have done payed my fare
Why can’t I leave death?
I try until my last breath
You hold me here, hoping I’ll break
The happiness I hold is oh, so fake
I’m lost truly forgotten
In this world so begotten
I think now...why Death? Why hold me here?
And he answers.....Because of your fear
(Death) If I let you out you’ll get scared
(Death) Down here you have done fared
(Death) Very well I think isn’t depression joy?
I think not for a 14 year old boy...
I will leave Death, just you wait
(Death) I had you born on that fatal date!
(Death) Friday the Thirteenth I had you born
(Death) To have you walk this land as scorned
(Death) This is why I had you made
(Death) Depression is just a black parade
You had me made to live life of hate?
With this I will retaliate
I will fight against you, Death with all my might
To get past my petty fright
I’m afraid of life you know this Death
So you dragged me here into this depth
For the better of me? To help me be safe?
Ha! Your lies are beginning to chafe
(Death) But it’s true young child I only wished to help
Silence Death! Your voice is that of a young whelp!
I shall listen no longer I’m making my escape!
And leave to to this horrible fate
(Death) You think you can leave? Just like that?
(Death) I honor your courage with a tip of my hate
(Death) But you cannot escape here....It’s in your mind
In my mind you say? So devine!
I am in control of my mind
(Death) No, your not your just a fool
A fool who is stronger than you!
(Death) Stronger than Death? I think not
(Death) And now I will leave you here to rot
I’m over my fear and I will leave here
I’m leaving now Good Bye my dear
(Death) what’s this? Your truly leaving? But depression is your life!
I shall leave this world with a thrust of my knife
(Death) The world you say? Would you really?
I would do so absent-mindedly...
(Death) But we are here in your own mind
(Death) Would you kill yourself? I can’t really find
(Death) any doubt in your words...so ill leave just fine......
I have conquered you Death you said you were stronger!
....The lesson learned is I couldn’t be wronger
Death was warning me of the hates of this world
Makes everyone I know need to hurl
A lost love, a lost hope, a lost dream
Life isn’t as easy as it once seemed
That wasn’t Death I know this now
It was my own depression and it took its bow
It did a number on me I won’t recover
Not until a find another
Person just like me so we can talk
Maybe just take a little walk
And speak of our problems so we may be
Happy just like the world may seem
I have not found where I belong
But I am content with my little song
Made me feel better knowing the truths
Knowing my mind is aged well over my youth
With this my farewell I leave you here
Hoping that you know I hold all my friends dear
Written by Lucas Howes AKA Iruuka Blackheart
poem by Iruuka Blackheart
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From the Diary of a Mimes
At my grandmothers house, you will see a hundred years of family portraits. We are a family of mimes. The portraits are of mimes.
You may ask why would someone wish to be a mime? For it is a limited existence beings that a mime s a simile of a single frame photograph. Look at the pictures at grandmothers house, do you feel the pain? This is my pain.
Becoming a mime.
I was six or seven years old. Grandmother and I were sitting in her living room, I had slept over at her house for a weekend while mom, dad and little brother tend to other things. Grandmother was in an odd mood today. She looked at her pictures and smiled some. And cried a little." I think its time you wore your mime face." She said. Today you will learn how to become a mime." So I said" Yes madman she proceeded to make up my face.
As she put on my makeup she started to cry. She cried for a long time. I was a little girl I started crying as well. I could not watch my grandmother cry without shedding tears of my own. So we sat and cried.
'Why are we crying' I asked? 'Well dear, sometimes life deals you a hard enough blow that even a mime will cry." I said 'Ok.'I was soon to find out what she meant. This is the day I learned a safe place for a heart to be. I learned that a person could freeze emotions and save them for future use. Yes place them in a jar, to be opened at an appropriate time. For that is what I do. You see I write a sad story, open a jar of tears and cry for a minute.
So after a good cry, grandmother took my hand and led me to the foyer wondered why I had to wear my mime face. Well grandmother had hers on, so I thought it must be a family thing, and I did not question. We sat under the foyer, was hot.New Orleans is a hot place at certain times of the year. There was no breeze, was still as could be. Nothing moved, except perhaps the webs a few lucky spiders, the ones who had prey to close in on.
'God bless mother nature, child. Its infinite wisdom, allows all creatures sustenance 'Uhh grandmother, that is a spider. Kill it, mom does.''No." She says, this is his house. If he were in mine, then I would kill him, but he lives here and kills insects.'
'You say he" I asked." How do you know it is a male spider? " She sighs." I do not know.' So I ask." Then why do you say it is a male? " It is taken for granted that any unknown sex is referred to as he. God is male." I answer" God could be a woman. I do not think anyone knows Gods sex grandmother. The world would be better if God was a female.''Perhaps so child." She answers, " Perhaps so.'
'Your father used to say that when he was your age. Always a philosophy with him." And her eye tiered up again. But I saw her turn to ice of a sudden. The tears dried. Then a long white car pulled up in the driveway, grandmother took my hand and we walked to the car. A man in a grey uniform opened the door and we sat inside. 'I will remember every detail of this day. For this is where my life changed.'
The car drove us to a big fancy building, it was full of mimes dressed in black. Even as a child I realized that something was wrong, so many mimes, all crying and made up in misery faces. I wondered why. They all parted as grandmother and I entered the building.
It was an odd place. Sad sounding music reminded me of harmonies of sorrow, organs and moans and tears. There were 3 pretty boxes in the center of the room. People were all around, most of them mimes, most were crying. 'Grand mother, what is in the boxes? 'I asked." Why do all the mimes look into them and cry? ''Never mind my child. Just be a mime.'
'Well if my daddy was here he would pick me up and I could see what was in the boxes." My grandmother looked down at me and started to cry, and the tears flowed." Brace yourself girl." She said. Then she picked me up. Eagerly I looked over the side of the box. In it was the reason I became a mime. I saw my fathers body made up to be a mime laying with his hands together as if he were praying. My brother and mother the same in other boxes. I knew they had passed away.
It was hard on a little girl, to have it etched into her mind.I kicked and screamed till grandmother set me on my feet. I ran out of the room and never spoke another word until this day.
I do not like this one much.
Something I Shall Never Do
Something I shall never do is regret how I felt about you
When the heartbreak first set in
It hurt for so long and so bad
But that was then and I've moved on
I dont hold any grudges
As a matter of fact I'm actually kind of glad
If it wasn't for you I wouldn't know the things I now do
If it wasn for you I would still be a naive little girl without a clue
Now that I've moved on
And worked pass the heartache and pain
Me and you can go back to being good friends again
Something I shall never do is regret having loved you
Because you unknowingly taught me a life lesson
One that I'm sure I'll always use
Even though I had to learn the hard
In the end I don't mind at all
Because I know that if I had a chance to go back and change time
For you I would still fall
poem by Tiger Lily Love
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When I Was Young I Cried
When I was young I cried when I was sad, when I was young I cried when I was happy, when I was young I cried when I wanted something, when I was young I cried when I was lonely, when I was young I cried when I had to say goodbye, when I was young I cried when my feelings were hurt, when I was young I cried when I wasn't accepted, when I was young I cried when I was mocked, when I was young I cried for attention, when I was young I cried when I was scared, when I was young I cried when I hurt others, when I was young I cried when I felt physical pain, when I was young I cried when I was jealous, when I was young I cried when I lost someone or when I was lost somewhere, when I was young I cried when I didn't know, and now as an adult I cry because I understand.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The girl of my dreams
I met the girl of my dreams
I held her, I love her, but that wasn’t a dream
She made me feel so special inside
Now I feel like a failure inside
The girl of my dreams was so pretty and pure
The girl of my dreams was so perfect
The girl in my dreams is everything I want
The girl in my dreams is everything that is right
The girl in my dreams talked with me
The girl in my dreams is named Dee
The girl in my dreams showed me who I am
The girl in my dreams showed me what love is
The girl in my dreams showed me how to love
The girl in my dreams I love so much
The girl of my dreams I love you so
The girl of my dreams I hate that you let go
The girl of my dreams you are so rare
The girl of my dreams you for me
The girl of my dreams without life doesn’t seem right
The girl of my dreams without you why put up the fight
The girl of my dreams without you I am not whole
The girl of my dreams without you I feel like I am in a hole.
The girl of my dreams, you are for me
The girl of my dreams is Dee.
poem by Jonathan Pendley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Swagman
Oh, he was old and he was spare;
His bushy whiskers and his hair
Were all fussed up and very grey
He said he'd come a long, long way
And had a long, long way to go.
Each boot was broken at the toe,
And he'd a swag upon his back.
His billy-can, as black as black,
Was just the thing for making tea
At picnics, so it seemed to me.
'Twas hard to earn a bite of bread,
He told me. Then he shook his head,
And all the little corks that hung
Around his hat-brim danced and swung
And bobbed about his face; and when
I laughed he made them dance again.
He said they were for keeping flies -
"The pesky varmints" - from his eyes.
He called me "Codger". . . "Now you see
The best days of your life," said he.
"But days will come to bend your back,
And, when they come, keep off the track.
Keep off, young codger, if you can.
He seemed a funny sort of man.
He told me that he wanted work,
But jobs were scarce this side of Bourke,
And he supposed he'd have to go
Another fifty mile or so.
"Nigh all my life the track I've walked,"
He said. I liked the way he talked.
And oh, the places he had seen!
I don't know where he had not been -
On every road, in every town,
All through the country, up and down.
"Young codger, shun the track," he said.
And put his hand upon my head.
I noticed, then, that his old eyes
Were very blue and very wise.
"Ay, once I was a little lad,"
He said, and seemed to grow quite sad.
I sometimes think: When I'm a man,
I'll get a good black billy-can
And hang some corks around my hat,
And lead a jolly life like that.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Visit To The Asylum
Once from a big, big building,
When I was small, small,
The queer folk in the windows
Would smile at me and call.
And in the hard wee gardens
Such pleasant men would hoe:
"Sir, may we touch the little girl's hair!"—
It was so red, you know.
They cut me coloured asters
With shears so sharp and neat,
They brought me grapes and plums and pears
And pretty cakes to eat.
And out of all the windows,
No matter where we went,
The merriest eyes would follow me
And make me compliment.
There were a thousand windows,
All latticed up and down.
And up to all the windows,
When we went back to town,
The queer folk put their faces,
As gentle as could be;
"Come again, little girl!" they called, and I
Called back, "You come see me!"
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weight Of The World
I used to carry the weight of the world
On my back
I never trusted my friends or my girl
Can you imagine that
I used to shuffle my feet
When I walked I hung my head down low
Kept to myself all my private thoughts
But when I met you girl.
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world.
I knew some people used to dance all night
But not me
I never knew if it was wrong or right
To be so free
I used to close my eyes
And try to hide from the light of love
Spent all my time with the darkness inside
But when I met you girl.
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world.
I was alone for all of my life
I was alone for all of my life
I was alone for all of my life
I was alone for all of my life
Until you came my way
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world
I dropped the weight of the world
Weight of the world.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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