21. Touching The Sky
Come for me, sweet tomorrow.
Help me touch the sky.
Like a well-learned bird opens its wings,
I, too, want to fly high.
Come for me, sweet tomorrow.
Help me touch the sky.
Like a well-learned bird opens its wings,
I, too, want to fly high.
Committing mistakes and then learning from them can be a great lesson of life. It can truly evolve a person into a nice gentleman. I remember, after passing out of the university, I joined an...
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I'll be happy once I've done this certain thing.
We all say this often, not realizing what it brings.
We look only to the future for our happiness,
Letting life slip through our fingers in its fullness.
Well thought out expression of a very deep yet communal event given voice in an authentic poetry format. Deeply set me thinking about my father's recent death. It's an experience that bind...
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Take time to know me, and you will see
That I am nothing like what you have heard spoken of me.
Give me a chance, and I will prove to you
That although I am not perfect, I have a heart that is pure and true.
Sitting on the steps, looking across the lake,
Wondering why life, at times, can seem great.
But in that second, it took me to just think,
My life could change, faster than a blink.
I like the poem because it gives me the passion
in everything I do, even if you don't accomplish your goals right away.
Get annoyed with someone
And explode in fury
But later after calming down
You'd look back
If you foolishly spend your money,
you can always earn some more.
If you happen to melt your sundae,
Life's brevity, so bittersweet,
depends upon just one heartbeat.
Brief as dusk and swift as dawn,
Very nice. So very true. When it's said that we are given a certain number of days, what can be said when someone dies, say at age 59.5, but then is resuscitated and is now 64? Oh, no doubt...
When we were born with no possession.
The love received was our concession.
No worries, no fears, no troubles, no fuss.
In mother's arms we put our trust.
Wow, this poem reminds me of one of my uncles who was all about his accomplishments. He chased after money till he couldn't. Lying on his hospital bed breathing his last, he realized life...
Analysis of Form and Technique
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
A Poison Tree is a short and deceptively simple poem about repressing anger and the consequences of doing so. The speaker tells of how they fail to communicate their wrath to their foe and...
Life is like a journey on the number 24 bus,
So welcome aboard, young one; come, sit here with the rest of us.
Let's hope you're going to be on here for more than just a while.
Look out of the window, young one, and enjoy every single mile.
The little town was the perfect little town,
Where never would you see even one little frown.
No matter where you'd go around town to stroll,
There were perfect little houses, all in a perfect row.
Do not love half lovers
Do not entertain half friends
Do not indulge in works of the half talented
Do not live half a life and do not die a half death
I come with no wrapping or pretty pink bows.
I am who I am, from my head to my toes.
I tend to get loud when speaking my mind.
Even a little crazy some of the time.
I love this poem! People are always trying to fit in and be normal. I've always disregarded being "normal." What's the point? Why would I be someone I am not? I am perfectly happy the way I...
Tiny little secrets
Get buried in the dirt,
And if they were dug up,
Someone would probably get hurt,
I don’t know if that’s true, because sometimes it's better to hide the hurtful secrets because the world these days will probably laugh at you then do nothing for a few days then decide...
When I was young and insecure,
And desperate to be liked.
I tended to withdraw in pain
And flee instead of fight.
I've lived quite a while and learned quite a bit
About life and this world where we live.
I've found that it's filled with both good and the bad.
Some who take, while some others will give.
I keep pulling
on my roots
urging them to grow
impatient for the bloom
You are not defined
by the way other people
see you
treat you
Time has grown frantic
Moves by us so swiftly
Too often overwhelmed
Losing sight of life's gift