To Cut Their Lives
I've read so many poems
Of young ones wanting
To cut their lives
Why is that so abundant?
In this world we all call home
Tears cascade from my eyes
As I read each poets write
Why would you want to be?
Away from your family
And your friends
I know I'm not a saint
Was a zombie most of my life
But at least I'm still breathing
And have my own son
Within my life
I try to understand
The pain you all went through
But it makes no sense to me
To why you want to cut your selves
I shudder to think
If my son would do that too
It would just kill me for sure
Because he is the apple of my eye
I beg I plead with sorrow
Throw away all those nasty knifes
And embrace the gift god gave you
An ever lasting life
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
On The Goddess Of Poesy
The Goddess of Poesy the Goddess of Song
To the Universal immortals she surely belong
The poets of the World her praises do sing
The gift of poetry to their souls she does bring.
The poets to write poems Goddess Poesy inspire
And of singing her praises they don't seem to tire
The poetry of sorrow the poetry of joy
The poetry of youth of the young girl and boy.
The poetry of youthfulness and of growing old
Of young women in their prime lovely to behold
The beauty of Nature the birds and the bees
The mammals and fishes of land and of seas.
The Goddess of poets of every gender race and creed
For their inspiration to write in her lives her they need
Of love, life and Nature she inspires poets to write
For the lovers of poetry to read and recite.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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They Gave Their All
I may not understand the wars
Or the fields of rotting corpses
I've read all the poems
Of wars from the past
And cannot imagine
The life lived back then
A blood soaked battlefield
Death wading with glee
At those that have fallen
For the right to be free
So many souls lost in time
Fighting a cause, humanity blind
Dare I say, what I read?
In between the lines
A poet soldier
Who needs to be free?
Do I have a right?
To question their fight
They gave their all
In what they believed
Teardrops fall as I continue my rhyme
But what I do understand
Is that they fought through all the wars
So that we can be free
To choose our lives
And live to be
What we want to be
All the bloodshed fields
The entire hero's lost in wars
I bow my head, and pray to thee
Thank you all
For letting me breathe
To learn and discover
The meaning of me
Tears trickle down
As I cry for your loss
You never got the chance to be free
You never found your path in life
You never came home to your loved ones, friends, and family
So what gives us the right?
The generation of today
To say how boring
Our life is today
When those in war
Never had a full life
They gave it all
So we could be free
To live a full life
I thank the hero's
Of past, present and yet to be
What so sad for humankind
Is that war is our history
Perhaps in the future
We can see peace and harmony
Perhaps dare I say it
A world weapon free
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0009 Favorite Poem
and you can’t remember much
about the first time you read it except
that it held you to the end, but most of all
this one line, which seemed to hold
the key to the whole poem
as if you were opening the closet of your mind
to bring out something which you knew was there
but instead something way at the back
called to you and you remembered
a moment from way back you thought
you had forgotten
and then you read the poem again
in company with the poet and
yes that’s it, and the two of you
became friends for life, almost
related.
So, now you’ve read all their poems,
feel some more than others but
as if you wrote them all in the same room
where you read them together
and you wait for their new book with
a sorta family pride
and like family,
you leave the poems for a spell,
grow up a little, then
come back to visit -
they mean more;
can it be,
you've both grown?
each time you come back to them
you carry them more close to you
in fact you feel that you could write
poems very much like theirs
as if you’d inherited, too,
the family gift
and though you wouldn’t of course
seek them out in person except
in a reading where you’d
have to share their warmth
with the rest of their extended family
but not say much since
you are a, well, close relative,
if you happened to be driving a route
not far from them, you’d detour,
park a little distance from their house,
but have it in your sight,
hope you might catch a movement,
wait a few minutes, then
start the car with almost a sigh
half relieved that you didn’t have to try
on their cautiously polite doorstep
to find words to say
you love them in their words,
which you almost wrote together,
lived them together;
love them like life itself,
love them
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life You Gave
Thank you for the life you gave up
just to see me through
and do not weep for me now that I am gone.
Go and lead the life you should have led
while you watched over me in my dying bed.
I have only left you temporary
and we will be reunited again
when your last page is read.
Now go and shed no more tears of sorrow,
but smile for the life you gave to me while I was there
for I still watch over you from within the clouds above.
Our love will never cease to be
it will last eternally.
Now go and live your life
just as it should be
not with tears of sorrow staining your cheeks,
but smile for the life you gave
to me while I was there.
14 September 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Much Love Will Kill You
Im just the pieces of the man I used to be
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me
Im far away from home
And Ive been facing this alone
For much too long
I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
Ive been looking back to find
Where I went wrong
Too much love will kill you
If you cant make up your mind
Torn between the lover
And the love you leave behind
Youre headed for disaster
cos you never read the signs
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Im just the shadow of the man I used to be
And it seems like theres no way out of this for me
I used to bring you sunshine
Now all I ever do is bring you down
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes
Cant you see that its impossible to choose
No theres no making sense of it
Every way I go Im bound to lose
Too much love will kill you
Just as sure as none at all
Itll drain the power thats in you
Make you plead and scream and crawl
And the pain will make you crazy
Youre the victim of your crime
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Too much love will kill you
Itll make your life a lie
Yes, too much love will kill you
And you wont understand why
Youd give your life, youd sell your soul
But here it comes again
Too much love will kill you
In the end...
In the end.
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The New York Times
Oh,
It makes no sense to me
Yeah, I was living in a different world when I heard the news
I keep having the same bad dream
And it makes me want to hurt all the people who have done this thing to you
When I see your face, I can see you smile
Read all about you in the new york times
When I see your eyes, I can see your light
When I think about what happened
It makes me crazy
It makes no sense to me,
This eye for an eye thing,
It has gone too far
I dont know anyone who doesnt hurt inside
I would like to believe we could learn from this
And maybe some day we can make things right
I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When you read between the lines
When I see your face, I can see you smile
Read all about you in my new york times
When I see your eyes, I can see your light
When I read about the world
It makes me crazy
I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When you read between the lines
Gotta read between the lines
Whoa, gotta read between the lines
I really want to believe I can make things right
I want to believe I can learn to feel alright inside
I want to believe I can learn to make things right
Oh, I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When I read the new york times
I see your face, I see your smile
Read all about you in the new york times
I can see your eyes, I can see your light
When I think about what happened
It just makes me crazy
When I close my eyes
You seem so alive
I really think about you
I want to believe we can make things right
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
I want to believe
Oh, I want to believe in this world
I want to believe in this life
I want to believe in a world that does not seem real
When I read the new york times
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Confused Poem) Barely Breathing
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Gone Astray.
Becoming One Of Lords Dismayed.
No More Faith.
Just A Bitter Taste Left With The Lust Of Revenge.
I Don't Think I Can Be Fixed.
I've Been Broken
And My Soul Will Never Be Re-awoken.
No Sense Of Remorse.
That Twist In Your Stomach Just No Longer Affect Me.
Sorrow Is A Waste Of My Time.
Call It Collateral Damage If You Will.
But I'm Still Empty.
Voided Out As Part Of The Past.
But I'm Still Here.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Like A Zombie Is My Body The Only Part Of Me Still Beating.
Morbidly Angry,
Hate With The Sweetest Embrace.
This Is The Place I Call Home.
Walking A Shadow Of A Past Life All Alone.
Screams Ring Out But No One Is Ever Listening.
Everybody Is Just So Distant.
A Wolf Must Lead The Pack.
But What Happens When The Hes Abandon For The Better
The Stronger
The Faster.
It's In Humanity That We Shelter The Weak.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Do These Questions Bring Out The Fear.
Does It Scare You When I'm Near.
I'm No Different Then You.
Just Flesh Blood.
My Pain Has Just Disappeared.
Oh How I Miss It.
Like Being Stabbed In Heart I Wish For It.
Every Single Day
And Still I Stand In Silence In The Shadows.
Where I Wont Be Noticed Or Missed.
I'm Waiting For Deaths Deadly Kiss.
Just Barely Breathing.
Where Am I?
How Did I Get Here?
Just Barely Breathing.
Oh Where
Oh Where Am I?
How In The Hell Did I Get Here?
Like I Will Ever Really Know.
This Life Just Goes
Goes On
And On.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0005 Totally Boring Poem
I’m totally bored by:
poems that sound like other poems
poems that try to sound unlike any other poems
poets who never take risks
poets who think that taking risks
makes them good poets
poems with 'meaning'
poems with no meaning
poets who slag off other poets
as if that achieves something
poets that tell you that rhyme
is not for an age but for all time
poets that tell you that rhyme is outmoded and boring
poets who think that the poetry of 'the past'
is greater than that of 'the present'
poets who think that the poetry of 'the present'
is greater than that of 'the past'
poems that tell you the poet's the first to discover sex
poets that tell you they’re the best sex you’ll ever have
although you’ll never meet them to find out
poets that tell you they’ve been dumped
poets who've never known love and being dumped
poets who are ambitious
poets who are unambitious
poets who tell you all about higher things
poets who reject higher things
poets who think life’s just a joke
poets who think life’s no joke
poets who sit on the fence
poets who have no sense of balance
poets who despise 'the middle ground'
poets who talk about technique
poets with no technique
poets who just throw down their thoughts
poets who 'work up' their poems to a self-satisfied polish
poets who list what they like (who cares?)
poets who list what don’t like (who cares?)
poets who write about extreme states
poets who think they’re immune to extreme states
poets who tell you why they’re bored
poets who have opinions
poets who seem to have no opinions at all
poets who have boring opinions to air - why choose poetry?
poets who comment on others' poems
as if it's the last word
poets who never bother to comment
on others' poems
poets who don't love poetry passionately
poets who tell you they 'love poetry passionately'
poets who – oh I’m too bored to go on reading this,
how about you?
I suppose you have boring opinions too?
another time perhaps
and oh yes I'm most of all bored by
those who waste their precious time on this earth
being bored
well I feel better for that.
how about you?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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George Crabbe Wrote Of
George Crabbe wrote of hardship and poverty and woe
In the England he lived in a long time ago
But perhaps his poems might be more popular today
Had he looked at life in a less truthful way.
George Crabbe wrote of children in dire poverty
The poor sad victims of Human cruelty
And the poems full of pathos and the poems full of truth
Of a poet who was blessed with the great gift of ruth.
He wrote of human cruelty to their own kind
A God in the soul of such a person you'll find
He did not write of mythological figures or monarch or squire
He wrote for the poor his type I do admire.
Of the poverty around him he was all too aware
But poets like George Crabbe they have always been rare
Though if you feel a bit down and a good laugh you do need
His poems lacking in Humor are not for you to read.
Of the poor souls of England George Crabbe did write
His poems not hard to understand or to read or recite
And though as a person and poet he was great
Such poets the masses never do celebrate.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write Poems For Poets
I WRITE POEMS FOR POETS
I write poems for poets
Our situation as poets-
The longings the feelings
We so need to express-
The love of language-
The hunger for recognition-
The frequent rejection-
The kind word of a reader that moves-
Poems for poets
We as we each are
All so different-
And we as we share
Words and worlds
We hope to have read.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keeping email alive in touch
Keeping email alive in touch
A day gone by without your mail
I seem to be a year for me
Today I read your mail
Is full with gladness and happiness
Family and friends
Getting in touch
From around the world
I dream of the day, when we meet
Or again
In real from around the world
I will tell you, how much I love you
My family and your Friendship
When we do we spend all day long
Talking of this
Miracle email alive
Only we can make this happen
Because we been waiting for this moment
For a long time
I been waiting to meet you all
Or again
I miss you all
And to be my true friends
That you donâ? ? t know yet
When we meet each other
You agree my family and friends
When I read your mail
From the most beautiful family and friends
I have with you all
It is so pleasant to understand
I want you to know
You are the most loving
Family and friends
I want to feel your peasant
Completely our friendship
I truly love to have family and friends
Like you all
To all my beloved family and friends
Are important to me
Life in touch will never stop
Whatever weather
Keeping email alive in touch
The more successful is filled with common sense
poem by See Fee Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Choice
to read poets
their poems
is time choice
actually poet
would write
more superior
poems
if educated read
other poets?
interacted more
nothing happens
in still isolation?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Written Somewhere (Mini Biography)
My friends are strangers
My family is the world
At one time, I sought fame
Everyone to know my name
Praise for what I did
But as the years came around
No fame there was to be found
So I turned my back on it all
Feeling crushed and insignificantly small
Years folded into one another
And soon became a score
Still I had no wish to return
To find the fame that I so yearned
But fate had a hand for me to play
It said you still had something more to say
An old school friend from a different time
Was sent one day when I was down
To reconnect and turn my life around
At first it did not dawn on me
That our meeting was meant to be
And my life was to change so dramatically
We talked through emails
About the lives, we had both lead
Suzanne said she had a friend and told me her name
That I should read her poems online
That friend, Melvina Germain, would also become a friend of mine
And set me on a return road of an earlier time
I joined the site where her poems were
And in a few short months, I was overwhelmed
I had something I had always dreamed for
I had a family of the world
The fame I so dearly sought to find
Where friends came along and read the work of mine
It made my heart pump faster and put zest into my life again
I would never want for anything
I had all the friends and fame
I ever wanted and more
16 April 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York Times
Ohhhhh
It makes no sense to me Yeah
I was living in a different world when I heard the news,
I keep on having the same bad dream
And it makes me wanna hurt all the people who have done this thing to you
When I see youre face I can see you smile
Read all about you in the New York Times
When I see youre eyes I can see youre lie
When I think about what happened, it just makes me crazy
This makes no sense to me, yeah
This out for nothing it has gone too far
I dont know anyone who does not hurt inside
Id like to believe if you learn from this
Then maybe someday we can make things right
I wanna believe in this world,
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when you read between the
lines
When I see youre face I can see you smile
Read all about you in my New York Times
When I see youre eyes I can see youre lie
When I read the words about you it just makes me crazy
I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in the world that does not seem real when you read between the
lines
Ohhh... I gotta read between the lines..
Wooaoh you gotta read between the lines
Wohhh yeah I really wanna believe I can make things right
I wanna believe I can learn how to feel alright inside
I wanna believe I can learn how to make things right
Ohh I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when I read the New York
Times
I see youre face, I see you smile
Read all about you in the New York Times
I can see youre eyes, I can see youre lie
When I think about what happened, it just makes me crazy
When I close my eyes you seem so alive
When I think about you I wanna believe you can make things right
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe
I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe
Ohh I wanna believe in this world
I wanna believe in this life
I wanna believe in a world that does not seem real when I read the New York
Times
song performed by by Everclear
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh The Poems
OH THE POEMS AND THE POEMS AND THE POEMS
Oh the poems and the poems and the poems
Oh the love of Literature
Oh all that stuff
I have given my life to-
Words and meanings and feelings
Pages and pages and pages –
What it is all this literary life for?
When out the window out the door
With our eyes we see in an instant other worlds other dreams?
I don’t know and I will never know
And Literature is certainly far more than I can say it is-
Oh the poems and this poem and this day turning grey
And all my life old and old and more old and more old-
Oh why oh why oh why
And always back to God
My last rescue and refuge and escape
I who have read so much Great Literature
And can only write this-
Oh the why and the oh oh oh and the words
And the whole world of Literature
I would belong to and do not.
Oh the words oh the world oh the Literature
Oh God help me please can’t you please help me a little or not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's In It For Me?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE TIME FOR TWITTER AND FACEBOOK, BUT NONE FOR THEMSELVES OR OTHERS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE A HUNDRED 'FRIENDS' ON FACEBOOK,
BUT NOT EVEN TEN IN REAL LIFE
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE EMOTE WITH EMOTICONS BUT NOT WITH THEIR FACES,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE PREFER TO WRITE 'LOL' RATHER THAN ACTUALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR COMPUTER MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES MORE ONLINE THAN OFF IT,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN SPOT THE ERROR IN SOMEONE'S TYPING BUT CANNOT SPOT A TEAR IN A FRIEND'S EYE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN GROW ANY CROP ONLINE BUT CANNOT EVEN PICK UP A SPADE IN REAL LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE RELISH THE FOOD AT MCDONALDS AND DOMINOS, BUT CRIB OVER HOME COOKED FOOD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE ARE READY TO KILL FOR A FEW SHREDS OF PAPER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE KILL IN THE NAME OF RELIGION,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE A MAN IS READY TO KILL HIS BROTHER OVER PROPERTY AND MONEY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF MONEY IS MORE THAN THE VALUE OF LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE LIVING A LIFE IS TOUGHER THAN KILLING A LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE IT'S EASIER TO EARN MONEY BY CHEATING THAN BY WORKING HONESTLY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF A GIFT IS THROUGH ITS PRICE AND NOT ITS EMOTIONS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS THROUGH HIS CAR AND HOUSE RATHER THAN HIS CHARACTER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR POSSESSIONS MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS AND PARENTS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE LOVED AND PEOPLE ARE USED,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE DO ANYTHING FOR A BETTER PAY BUT NOTHING FOR A BETTER CONSCIENCE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD IS BAD AND I KNOW THAT BUT SILL IF I WIN THIS WORLD,
WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
poem by Deepak Hariharan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Browsing and Commenting on Poems.
It is my habit to read the poems
delivered by the young and old, male and female.
I pick up the poems by title and not by the authors.
Internet helps us to browse and comment on poems,
burst into by the poets from all the continents.
I read, chew and digest the new words, usage,
and the content in the poems. The young guys,
baffle me with colloquial, archaic and email forms
like gonna, wanna, u, and so on.
The youths write poems on love with inspiration
but old people have to perspire or be resilient
going back to school and college days.
If I murmur the tune of some melodious film song,
I find it possible to scribble on love-lorn life.
I am very weak in English manners of saying thanks
and expecting thanks for the comments made on poems.
The voracious readers of poems won't stop criticising
if we contribute touching poems or message giving lines.
The comments at times inspire me with new ideas and subjects.
If our lines comfort some hurt hearts,
guide some to ride the life with peace and hope,
that is enough for the mad people like us.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Life - The Story of Young Boy - Pt.1
She yelled and took the bottle
And then my dad yelled back
Young boy crying in the corner
Memories of my childhood are all black
“I hate you” she screams
But he hates her more
Their hatred builds
As they even their score
Pins her to the couch
Saying nasty things
Young boy is wondering
Is this the joy life brings?
Sister gets pregnant
One blames the other
Whiskey fix, does the trick
The young boy loses his mother
The working day is done
Father watching the TV
Young boy shows dad what he has done
Father doesn't want to see
Young boy makes a mistake
Dad calls young boy a name
Young boy crying in the corner
Filled with guilt and shame
Young boy seeking somebody
For his life he wants to share
Always seeking and never finding
Cause no one really cares
Mom moves away
Young boy so sad
Family broken
Parents glad
Their lives go on
But his does stay
Young boy, old life
With no time to play
Young boy now a teenager
Turns to drugs and booze
The pain he faced, he turns away
His past he wants to lose
Young boy then gets married
To a beautiful wife
Wants so bad to forget his past
And start a brand new life
Young boy yells at new wife
New wife yells at me
My young boy in the corner
The old cycle he does see
Young boy now starts seeking
To make my life brand new
For the benefit of my young boys
My pain they won't go through
New wife says to young boy
You're never going to change
She packs her bags and then she leaves
Another family now estranged
Young boy really hurting
Hoping pain won't last
For now he has a starring role
In the memories of his past
Young boy sitting wondering
Is the pain what it is worth
Broken people, doing broken things
To make a broken earth
Young boy now is fighting
Fighting for his life
Trying to make the old, brand new again
For his young boys and his wife
Young boy finds Our savior
That sits upon His throne
The abundant life he offers
Shows Young Boy he's not alone
The cycle it continues
But young boy wants to try
To fight for what his parents didn't
Then the cycle he'll defy
So young boy makes a decision
He also makes his creed
He hopes to fix his family
All to God he'll lead
So young boy gives it one last chance
With the hope that Jesus brings
Young boy knows it's not over
Til the fat lady sings.......
To be continued
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have Read Many Poems I Know I Never Could Have Written
I have read many poems I know I never could have written
Poems whose language was far richer and more remarkable than mine
Poems that saw as I cannot see and sounded as I cannot sound
Poems of magnificent music and many hidden meanings
I have read many poems greater than those I could ever write
And have been humbled and saddened and inspired by them
Out there somewhere else
There have been real poets
And I in my own little lines
Love and respect them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life's A Gift
Life’s a gift for you to send
Life’s a gift for god to end
Life’s a gift now you’re with me
Life’s a gift for all to see
Life’s a gift when love is true
Life’s a gift when times look blue
Life’s a gift with the one you trust
Life’s a gift even if UN just
Life’s a gift a ray of sun
Life’s a gift though your heads held to a gun
Life’s a gift when its handed on a tray
Life’s a gift even though it’s always on display
Life’s a gift it’s hard to understand how
Life’s a gift so take advantage of it now
poem by SharonAnn Dawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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