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330 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 201 – 330 of 330The Ballad of Julie Blue
Jan left me cold and April cried
June came when I finished with May
through the signs and the seasons
with her rhymes and her reasons
Julie blew the clouds away
a perfect shadow in a sunshine day.
A month of summerday nights she stayed
blue skies all day each day clear
til the sun in her eyes began to fade
with every daisy chain she made
and she kissed me goodbye like a razor blade
singing I’ll return next year
But tomorrow’s a world away.
type ballad
source http://www.brucelawson.co.uk/index.php/2005/the-ballad-of-julie-blue/http://www.brucelawson.co.uk/index.php/2005/the-ballad-of-julie-blue/
posted by Fernando Gracia
Mrs.basham this is my lyric
Song: hero
Songwriter: Chad kroeger
website: poem hunter.com
I am so high. I can hear heaven.
I am so high. I can hear heaven.
No heaven, no heaven dont hear me.
And they say that a hero can save us.
Im not gonna stand here and wait.
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles.
Watch as they all fly away.
Someone told me love will all save us.
But how can that be, look what love gave us.
A world full of killing, and blood-spilling
That world never came.
And they say that a hero can save us.
Im not gonna stand here and wait.
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles.
Watch as they all fly away.
Now that the world isnt ending, its love that Im sending to you.
It isnt the love of a hero, and thats why I fear it wont do.
And they say that a hero can save us.
Im not gonna stand here and wait.
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles.
Watch as they all fly away.
And they're watching us
(Watching Us)
As they all fly away.
By: Marten Ortiz
Hey Mrs.Basham, this is my ballad poem!
Source:candylandpoems.com
Author:Ashleigh
Type of poem:Ballad
Candy Land Suicide
by Ashleigh
I gave my world a title
Where I live in suicidal
Candy Land Suicide is it's name
Where my suicide is the game
My best friends are dead
Only words of them are read
Hanging by a rope
Or being killed in a fight for dope
Whenever I die
I know, no one will cry
'Cause I know I wasn't important
This was my only last resortment
A lonely life I have lead
Everyone always said
I've always been broken
Thrown away like a worthless token
I sit here and slowly die
And I only sigh
With no other soul to communicate
I'll cry and cry
Wishing i would just die, just die!
Sup Mrs.Basham here is my lyric!
Source:candy lyric songs
Author:Bow Wow Wow
Type of poem:Lyric
Lyrics I Want Candy Bow Wow Wow
I know a guy who's tough but sweet
He's so fine, he can't be beat
He's got everything that I desire
Sets the summer sun on fire
I want candy, I want candy
Go to see him when the sun goes down
Ain't no finer boy in town
You're my guy, just what the doctor ordered
So sweet, you make my mouth water
I want candy, I want candy
Candy on the beach, there's nothing better
But I like candy when it's wrapped in a sweater
Some day soon I'll make you mine,
Then I'll have candy all the time.
I want candy, I want candy
I want candy, I want candy
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!
Lyrics I Want Candy Bow Wow Wow
~!Ruby!~(I love Candy)
Mrs. Basham this is my ballad,
Author: Robert W. Service
Website:poemhunter.com
Title: The call
(France, August first, 1914)
Far and near, high and clear,
Hark to the call of War!
Over the gorse and the golden dells,
Ringing and swinging of clamorous bells,
Praying and saying of wild farewells:
War! War! War!
High and low, all must go:
Hark to the shout of War!
Leave to the women the harvest yield;
Gird ye, men, for the sinister field;
A sabre instead of a scythe to wield:
War! Red War!
Rich and poor, lord and boor,
Hark to the blast of War!
Tinker and tailor and millionaire,
Actor in triumph and priest in prayer,
Comrades now in the hell out there,
Sweep to the fire of War!
Prince and page, sot and sage,
Hark to the roar of War!
Poet, professor and circus clown,
Chimney-sweeper and fop o' the town,
Into the pot and be melted down:
Into the pot of War!
Women all, hear the call,
The pitiless call of War!
Look your last on your dearest ones,
Brothers and husbands, fathers, sons:
Swift they go to the ravenous guns,
The gluttonous guns of War.
Everywhere thrill the air
The maniac bells of War.
There will be little of sleeping to-night;
There will be wailing and weeping to-night;
Death's red sickle is reaping to-night:
War! War! War!
from: Marten Ortiz
"Photograph"
Pretty darling, stop running down my street
The tears are dropping like a nuclear meltdown
I never meant to let it come to this
Can we blame it on timing not chemistry
All night long, i'll sing the same somber song
Attack my decisions, and the horse they road on
Everything seems to be less that zero
A mascara hero with a heart of zinc
I never should have kissed...
I never should have...
And i never should have kissed those lips before
I never should've let you out my door
But now i'm stuck with your photograph
The words you chant, i never thought they'd
Be so true, dancing in my head
So pause this moment, till we meet in our next life:
A black tabby housecat, a bottle of xanax
All night long is one repeated love song
When have i became this tree
Till we meet in our brand new world
I'll count the rings, if you tie a string
Mrs.Basham here is my ballad.
Krystal
Crushes
I’ve only had one true love and a countless number of crushes
Some how I hope to rise above the hurt that comes with all the blushes
blushing every time someone guessed the crush
now I sit here much matured not caring what is thought of my crushes
only knowing the love I had is away and far out of my clutches
Drifting away hiding from something I know as hurt
I know that love has taken control
Wanting a loved one is so important to my life
I have to ask Why
source:poems about crushes
Ballad poem
Here is my lyric.
Source:lyric songs about crushes
I see no, hear no evil,
black writing on the wall,
unleash one million faces,
and one by one they fall!
Black hearted evil,
brave hearted hero,
I am all, I am all I am
(I, I, I)
I am!
Here we go buddy, here we go buddy, here we go, here we go buddy,
here we go!
Go ahead and try to see through me,
do it if you care,
one step forward,
two steps back,
I'm gonna step forward,
(Two steps back)
Do it, do it, do it, do it!
Can you see all of me?
Walk into my mysteries?
Step inside and hold on for delight,
Do you remember me?
Capture you or set you free?
I am all, I am all of me!(X4)
(Here we go...)
I see and feel the evil,
my hands will crush 'em all,
you think you have the answer,
while I laugh and watch ya' fall!
Black hearted evil,
brave hearted hero,
I am all, I am all I am
(I, I, I)
I am!
Here we go buddy, here we go buddy, here we go, here we go buddy,
here we go!
Go ahead and try to see through me,
do it if you care,
one step forward,
two steps back,
I'm gonna step forward,
(Two steps back)
Do it, do it, do it, do it!
Can you see all of me?
Walk into my mysteries?
Step inside and hold on for delight,
Do you remember me?
Capture you or set you free?
I am all, I am all of me!(X4)
(Here we go...)
I am, I am everyone, everywhere, anyhow, anyway, anywhere, any
day! (X2)
I am, I am, I am!(X2)
I am!
Do it, do it, do it, do it!
Can you see all of me?
Walk into my mysteries?
Step inside and hold on for delight,
Do you remember me?
Capture you or set you free?
I am all, I am all of me!(X4)
(Here we go, here go, here we go...)
I am, I am all of me...
"Teardrops On My Guitar"
By: Taylor Swift
[[casandra Cortez]]
Type: Lyric
:]
Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see
That I want and I'm needing everything that we should be
I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about
And she's got everything that I have to live without
Drew talks to me, I laugh cause it's so damn funny
That I can't even see anyone when he's with me
He says he's so in love, he's finally got it right,
I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night
[Chorus:]
He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do
Drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe?
And there he goes, so perfectly,
The kind of flawless I wish I could be
She'd better hold him tight, give him all her love
Look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky cause
[Repeat Chorus]
So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light
I'll put his picture down and maybe
Get some sleep tonight
He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only one who's got enough for me to break my heart
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do
He's the time taken up, but there's never enough
And he's all that I need to fall into..
Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see.
When i'm by your side
a hold is put on time
i entertain myself with your eyes
wanting to be with you for life
When i'm by your side
My problems are put aside
You are my best friend
Forever we will be to the end
At your side i shall die
till i can be with you
in heaven i'll wait for you
when i'm by your side
my problems are put aside
you are my best friend
forever we shall be to the end
[[Casandra Cortez]]
Type: Ballad
:]
i have never been
in love, in love before
what a differance
how true love made in life
so nice so right
lovers come and lovers go
thats what people say
dont they know
how it feels when u love me
hold me and say you care
and what we have is much more that they can see
and what we have is much more that they can see
name amanda martinez
type ballad
love song
I don't wanna tell you that I care for you
And have you just ignore me
It's better that I wait and see just how you feel
And maybe you'll adore me
I know you've had so much experience
That you don't need another person in your life
I know it may sound funny
But you're the kind of woman
Who'd make a very sweet wife
Take your time, don't worry how you feel because
You know we've got forever
Maybe I'll come up with some idea and
You'd think that I was clever
I've never had someone and I need someone
To live with and be good to
Don't worry 'bout your past loves
And if they've never understood you
Let's put our hearts together
And say we'll leave each other, never
Let's see what we can cook up between us
Together
Together
Together you and I
name amanda martinez
type lyirics<3
"Move Along"
Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking
When you fall everyone stands
Another day and you've had your fill of sinking
With the life held in your
Hands are shaking cold
These hands are meant to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
Move along
So a day when you've lost yourself completely
Could be a night when your life ends
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold
Your hands are mine to hold
Speak to me, when all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
Move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong, we move along
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
When everything is wrong, we move along
Along, along, along
When all you got to keep is strong
Move along, move along like I know you do
And even when your hope is gone
Move along, move along just to make it through
[x3]
(Go on, go on, go on, go on)
Right back what is wrong
We move along
[fade out]
thats my ballad:}
Nikki
Here lies Heather Victoria Yanez
They called her Chripy
and that's the reason she got "Shot"
Not Worth Your Time by LifeThought
Bloody ****,
I finally work up some courage,
Just to talk to you,
But it is as if everything I say,
Means little to you.
I sit crying here,
With the tear soaked place around me,
Wondering why,
Why am i not worth being spoken to?
All I long for,
Is a lengthy conversation
Which you seem content
And willing to keep going.
I ******* beg you here
I ******* love you too much
That this lack of talk
Is draining the blood from my veins,
Carving the heart from my chest.
Just talk to me,
Let me know
You actually consider me a friend,
TELL ME IM NOT WORTHLESS TO YOU,
I bloody well love you too much,
I need to know I'm not worthless to you!
Ballad: Esmer Caballero
Butterflies
women are like butterflies
dad always said when he was alive
oh how true that is
mom, sisters, aunties,
they are all butterflies
with colourful stories
to tell of their love and wear
and the days that flew like honey
kisses, presents, flowers and all
cupboards full of cotton, silk, crepe,
and what have you?
in a million shades and styles
you could see them flying into a dream
twirl, swirl, twist, waltz, disco, pirouette
through that memory lane
where diversity was the fruit of life
where a million years might have passed
and you will still be digging in to feed on
those joy-capsuled moments
transcient as the rainbow over the sky
big sister loves her graceful skirt in that shade
passionate as rosy red
second sister's favourite blouse
innocent as lily white
third sister's lace covered night gown
make her look real butterflies
to talk about butterflies
snappy dad was correct when
he said women are like butterflies
they fly into your life
bringing colours and sweetness of bloom
if you know where to look for
the right ones
open the window of your heart wide
and you see them flutter, flap, dances
in so many ways into your dream
inspired by
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe #31
john tiong chunghoo
Robert Flores
Free verse
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/butterflies-16/
babykisses104
my poem is a Epitaph
its orginaly made by me
Two Untitled Poems and a Kiss
A room
no music
nobody within
i am out
when i am back
music
no room
Square of
music, and tears
square of fear,
erected laugh and murder
The Kiss
i could see
the dagger
and the lightning
of fear
glinted on it
A dropp of tear
i heard the hiss.
a stream of blood
i remember a kiss
Robert Flores
Epitath
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-untitled-poems-and-a-kiss/
Here lies Heather Victoria Yanez
They called her a Chripy
and that's the reason she got
"Shot"
Heather Yanez
Epitaph
Here is my epitath Mrs.Basham
I can be known as
Miranda Party
Miranda Smarty
and ocassionaly
Miranda Farty
But here i want to be known as
Miranda L. Marty.
from ~miranda marty
my epitah
authour:Juan Aguinaga
I was running up and down the stairs
you told me to stop.
I did not listen
i did not stop until i fell down.
Authour:Juan Aguinaga
title:I will love you forever
She came into my life
I knew she was the one
I knew i had to be with her
I had to love her.
Nothing was more important right now than her
She was the most beutiful girl i have ever seen
I told her i love her
she did not respond.
I told her i loved her again
she did not think of me like that
she said i was more like a friend to her
I was heartbroken.
I could not find the words to explain this
I was lost and confused.
A Love Song
Let me sing you a love song
About what I feel in my heart;
Butterflies can't find nectar
Whenever we're apart.
You're a flower in bloom.
In the dark, in the gloom,
It's you who brightens my day.
How many ways do I need you?
Every day, every way, come what may.
By Karl Fuchs
freeverse
jose camarillo
Your Life
Beer, Drugs, Women
Of all the choices he made
Why did he follow these
At one point it may have been cool to him
To live in a place that had a lot of money
But none of it went with him
To a place in which he will forever scream.
Type of poetry: Epitaph
An Epitaph
Here lies a most beautiful lady,
...Light of step and heart was she:
I think she was the most beautiful lady
...That ever was in the West Country.
But beauty vanishes; beauty passes;
...However rare, rare it be;
And when I crumble who shall remember
...This lady of the West Country?
by Walter De La Mare Love Poem
jose camarillo
EPITATH
An Epitaph
Here lies a most beautiful lady,
...Light of step and heart was she:
I think she was the most beautiful lady
...That ever was in the West Country.
But beauty vanishes; beauty passes;
...However rare, rare it be;
And when I crumble who shall remember
...This lady of the West Country?
by Walter De La Mare Love Poem
JOSE CAMARILLO EPITATH
http://www.helpself.com/love-poems/poem-9u.htm
A Love Song
Let me sing you a love song
About what I feel in my heart;
Butterflies can't find nectar
Whenever we're apart.
You're a flower in bloom.
In the dark, in the gloom,
It's you who brightens my day.
How many ways do I need you?
Every day, every way, come what may.
By Karl Fuchs
freeverse
jose camarillo
http://www.poemsource.com/love-poems.html
SAY GOOD BYE
unknow
Is say good bye every easy,yes or no?
No is the answer.Because there the is easy good bye. Then the hard good bye , the one that you have to say good bye when your never going to see him again. Like when their go to be six feet under.
WIHTOUT LIFE, WITHOUT ANYTHING.
If you ever learn how to say good bye its like say I'll see you later.
hi Mr Basham, here my free verse.
Daisy A.
The Young Man's Wish
[From an old copy, without printer's name; probably one from the Aldermary Church-yard press. Poems in triplets were very popular during the reign of Charles I., and are frequently to be met with during the Interregnum, and the reign of Charles II.]
If I could but attain my wish,
I'd have each day one wholesome dish,
Of plain meat, or fowl, or fish.
A glass of port, with good old beer,
In winter time a fire burnt clear,
Tobacco, pipes, an easy chair.
In some clean town a snug retreat,
A little garden 'fore my gate,
With thousand pounds a year estate.
After my house expense was clear,
Whatever I could have to spare,
The neighbouring poor should freely share.
To keep content and peace through life,
I'd have a prudent cleanly wife,
Stranger to noise, and eke to strife.
Then I, when blest with such estate,
With such a house, and such a mate,
Would envy not the worldly great.
Let them for noisy honours try,
Let them seek worldly praise, while I
Unnoticed would live and die.
But since dame Fortune's not thought fit
To place me in affluence, yet
I'll be content with what I get.
He's happiest far whose humble mind,
Is unto Providence resigned,
And thinketh fortune always kind.
Then I will strive to bound my wish,
And take, instead of fowl and fish,
Whate'er is thrown into my dish.
Instead of wealth and fortune great,
Garden and house and loving mate,
I'll rest content in servile state.
I'll from each folly strive to fly,
Each virtue to attain I'll try,
And live as I would wish to die.
- Ah Love, Love, … Love, Love, Love, Love, Love.
What is it with Love
That makes me
then breaks me?
When in love
Do I truly love?
Is it really love
Or do I think that I love?
Maybe I just love being in love
Or love the idea of being in love?
I spent my whole life chasing love.
In the end the one thing I truly love
Could just be the meir pursuit of love. Gabriela Charles Poem:Lyric
Source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ah-love-love-love-love-love-love-love-a-poem-about-1...
By:Ronberge
Hi,I finally got to send it to you I hope its right bye.
Here I lye Knowing my husband is in bed with my bestfriend
hey Mr.Basham here is my epitaph.
Daisy A.
drkmaster said.... Mrs. Basham here is my ballad.
The Young Man's Wish
[From an old copy, without printer's name; probably one from the Aldermary Church-yard press. Poems in triplets were very popular during the reign of Charles I., and are frequently to be met with during the Interregnum, and the reign of Charles II.]
If I could but attain my wish,
I'd have each day one wholesome dish,
Of plain meat, or fowl, or fish.
A glass of port, with good old beer,
In winter time a fire burnt clear,
Tobacco, pipes, an easy chair.
In some clean town a snug retreat,
A little garden 'fore my gate,
With thousand pounds a year estate.
After my house expense was clear,
Whatever I could have to spare,
The neighbouring poor should freely share.
To keep content and peace through life,
I'd have a prudent cleanly wife,
Stranger to noise, and eke to strife.
Then I, when blest with such estate,
With such a house, and such a mate,
Would envy not the worldly great.
Let them for noisy honours try,
Let them seek worldly praise, while I
Unnoticed would live and die.
But since dame Fortune's not thought fit
To place me in affluence, yet
I'll be content with what I get.
He's happiest far whose humble mind,
Is unto Providence resigned,
And thinketh fortune always kind.
Then I will strive to bound my wish,
And take, instead of fowl and fish,
Whate'er is thrown into my dish.
Instead of wealth and fortune great,
Garden and house and loving mate,
I'll rest content in servile state.
I'll from each folly strive to fly,
Each virtue to attain I'll try,
And live as I would wish to die.
By:Robert Bell
Type: ballad
Website:http://theotherpages.org/poems/ballad15.html#107
Its love, its love, its love…
Its love, its love, its love-
I am going crazy, I am going mad;
Its so sensuous, its kind of
awesome and blithe
to be in love, to be in your thoughts;
Its love, its love, its love-
I am going crazy, I am going mad;
When I miss you, my heart feels the heat;
When I am with you, every
moment becomes sweet;
Its love, its love, its love-
I am going crazy, I am going mad;
Sans you my days become lengthier,
so do my nights turn out to be;
I am still in a maze which season is this;
Its love, its love, its love-
I am going crazy, I am going mad;
Simple words become splendid odes-
courtesy your so sweet ways, voice
and thoughts;
Its love, its love, its love-
I am going crazy, I am going mad;
- To my Love
By:Senthil Komar
From:Gabriela Charles
Poem:Ballad
Source:http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/its-love-its-love-its-love/
Ok i found a Ballad Oh Yeah
Love
"Love is not a thing to understand.
Love is not a thing to feel.
Love is not a thing to give and receive.
Love is a thing only to become
And eternally be. ."
From:Gabriela Charles
by:Sri Chinmoy
Poem:Free Verse
Source: http://www.shortpoems.org/
drkmaster said.... Mrs. Basham this is my lyric
Books and Poems
Books are worlds
Within themselves
A universe can be held
On wooden shelves.
Poems are music
In the air
The ageless dreams
Of those who care.
A Poet's Garden He has a private garden
No one is allowed to see.
Here where he plants his dreams
And grows pure fantasy.
Robert L. Laumeyer
website:http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/books-and-poems/
Choices
Why did i let myself fall for
a girl of great Charm and beauty
guess i should have asked her
before her old ex did.
know i'll never know what could've ,should've and,would've been.
Type of Poetry: Free Verse
drkmaster said... Mrs. Basham here is my free verse
Rose of Love
I give you this rose,
for you are the most beautifull girl of all.
I ask for a favor,
that you keep this rose alive,
for It's the signof my love,
that knows you are divine.
author:manuel martinez
source;my mind
Epitaph
The first time I died, I walked my ways;
I followed the file of limping days.
I held me tall, with my head flung up,
But I dared not look on the new moon's cup.
I dared not look on the sweet young rain,
And between my ribs was a gleaming pain.
The next time I died, they laid me deep.
They spoke worn words to hallow my sleep.
They tossed me petals, they wreathed me fern,
They weighted me down with a marble urn.
And I lie here warm, and I lie here dry,
And watch the worms slip by, slip by.
From:Gabriela Charles
By:Dorothy Parker
Poem:Epitaph
Source:http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/epitaph-2/
drkmaster... Mrs. Basham here is my epitaph.
Here lies manny martinez
the most generous person of all
even though he left
he was generous
and left us his debts
author:manny martinez
source:mymind
Mrs. Basham I really hope you like this Free Verse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU
Everywhere I go and watch you,my heart beats as fast as a bumblebee's wings.
Whenever we argue,my feelings for you are negative as death.
But when it comes to love, you make me shine like a diamond in you're eyes.
So whenever I have these feelings I can hardly imagine how bad it would feel to not have them at all.
ARTIST:Victor Del Toro
TITLE:YOU
SOURCE:Written
TYPE:Free Verse
Tim could not recall his mom, he didn't know his dad;
His life was always shuffled 'round, he was a troubled lad;
His years upon this mortal world had only totaled five,
At times he'd slept upon the street, he'd barely stayed alive;
They found him yes, when he was two, hiding in a box,
He had a bag of jelly beans and several colored rocks;
They didn't know how long he'd been living on his own,
They only knew he looked a mess, they couldn't find his home;
He clutched a tattered dirty bear, its name was quite unique,
He said his bear was "Uzzy boy," to us the name was Greek;
Y'see Timmy didn't speak a lot, his words were very few,
He often cried, "I wan my om," but no one had a clue;
His time was spent in foster homes, he wasn't treated well,
His life was kicked from place to place, it was a living hell;
His parents, on the other hand, had searched for Tim in vain,
They thought Tims life had ended, their lives were wrought with pain;
They used to laugh and play with Tim, he even had a cat,
He had a bear named Fuzzyboy, a plastic ball and bat;
One day the cat went out the door and headed down the street,
Tim followed "Kitty" close behind with tiny naked feet;
The rest is not important, little Tim was lost,
It must have been so cold that night, the morning grass had frost;
As time went by little Tim was traded to and fro,
His life was so unstable and all he heard was" No!"
Christmas yes, was here again, a time he would abhor,
He knew he would be moved again, of this he was quite sure;
At five, Tim had but just one friend in whom he could confide,
That little friend was "Uzzyboy," his one and only pride;
As Christmas day grew ever near the papers all got signed,
Soon Tim would be adopted, he hoped they would be kind;
Every time he'd changed his home, he saw it in their eyes,
They started off by acting nice, it was a proven guise;
The time for their arrival would be on Christmas morn,
The time that Christ the Savior came, the day that he was born;
If miracles could ever be, he prayed that he might find,
A couple that would hug him tight, he really wouldn't mind;
His foster parents cleaned him up, but took away his bear,
That tattered rag would have to go, they really didn't care;
Tim cried inside, his throat grew sore, that bear was his best friend,
Little Tim was all alone, his heart may never mend;
Then came a shallow knocking sound from just outside the door,
It was the social service girl, the one he'd seen before;
She gripped his hand and held it tight and Tim began to cry,
She held him very tenderly and tried to dry his eyes;
She was there when Tim was found, she knew his story well,
She finally found a mom and dad, a pair that wouldn't yell;
His future mom and dad had sent a package tied with string,
Tim would eye it carefully to see what it would bring;
Then all at once his eyes welled up and tears began to flow,
The precious present he'd unwrapped caused his face to glow;
The ride was long, the car was warm, the destination near,
His heart was pounding furiously, the future so unclear;
And now the car began to slow, his confidence had grown,
The place where they had stopped and parked was like a place he'd known;
There were those stairs of painted wood, they even had a cat,
The social lady rang the bell and then he spied the bat;
A plastic bat was hung against the door above a sign,
He really couldn't read just yet, he knew he would in time;
And then he heard them running hard to open up the door,
They picked him up and squeezed him tight, they loved him that's for sure;
And then Tim thought to thank them both because it was so right,
for giving him an "Uzzyboy" to sleep with him that night;
The mother fell upon her knees and asked," What did you say?"
Tim said, "Thanks for Uzzyboy, I lost him once today!"
And then her tears began to flow, as father grabbed his heart,
They said this was a miracle, that God had done his part;
The social lady stood in awe, then dawned a glorious thought,
That she had just united them, with one whom they had sought;
Then mother screamed, "I yov you Tim!" That took him by surprise,
He recognized that baby talk, and recognized her eyes;
And then the spirit filled their souls, old memories came anew,,
"Thank you Lord," they humbly prayed, "that thou hast blessed us too."
The Competitor's Creed
The contest lasts for moments
though the training's taken years.
It wasn't the winning alone
that was worth the work.
The applause will be forgotten,
the prize misplaced.
But the long, hard hours of practice
will never be a waste!
For in trying to win you build a skill;
You learn that winning depends on you and your team.
You never grow by how much you win,
You only grow by how much you put in.
So in any new challenge you've just begun,
Put forth your best and you've already won!
Author:Unknown
source:http://www.oakharborcheer.com/Poems.html
Type of pome:Free Verse
**K@tY@ m3D!n@**
My Decision
i dont wanna go,but i dont wanna stay,i cant tell the differance between guessin and knowing, i dont know if i should show it, or hide it, lie about it and denie it. I am who i am, i be who i be. when people look at me i want them to see the real me, not what someone else wants me to be. its easy to tell someone to change but ya aint helpin unless your part of the soulution, when kids grow up seein their parents shootin and bein stupid. we only know what we see but thts not ow it has ta be. they say were a product of our enviroment, imthe best of both sides, the good and bad, if they were ever to collide.....but do i wanna keep living like this? only i can decide.
Malorie Genoff
Type of poetry: ballad
reason: this poem is a ballad because it talks about someone life and what there doing while this person kids are seeing all this.
http://poemhunter.com/poem/my-decision/
Shopping for Yesterday
Busy crowds, lonely hearts, broken dreams
Shopping for yesterday.
Visiting the shared moments,
In all the familiar places
When shopping for yesterday.
We are all prisoners of the past
When shopping for yesterday
Knee deep in our loneliness
Surrounded by the crowd
We’re shopping for yesterday.
Pictures and memories
Half-forgotten words
Time slipping away
From the windmills of my mind
When shopping for yesterday.
Adrian Wait
hi mrs.basham here is my free verse poem igot it at http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shopping-for-yesterday/
Missing Him
every night when i lay me down to sleep,i want to reach over and feel your touch so sweer. although i know right now i cant be thare, your still the one that keeps me protected from any fear.
my sheets are so cold, i feel like im falling into a huge hole, i get this empty feeling in the pit of my soul. i start to wonder, what if we hadnt met, would my life be any better yet? but i have never felt so beautiful, as i do when im tlaking to you.
i finally found the respect and acceptance that all along ive been yearnng, although you say 'you young and your still learning'. in time i became atached to you, to an emotion, i wouldnt let go. i soon saw how close we were and the feeling was good to know.
the minutes withough you turned into day and thehours with you just flew past. i only wish to see you more to make ever moment last.
with you im in a whole new world. you bring out the best in me. its hard to think of you no being here for me, you kind of tech me who to be. and now i know we love the same, as it doubles day by day, but still when i look at you i become speachless and dont know what to say.
yea i know the road ahead may get hard, and times only seem rough, but because you and i try so much, i know well stay strong and together so tough. though problems may lie ahead some day, and either of us cold be right, i promise to always be by your side, even when im not in sight. but most of all i promise you my loving heart and you gotta promise to hold it tight.
so each night beside my bed, when theres only one bright start o see. i pray that we will never give up, and always and forever remain you and me.
Author: Malorie Genoff
Type of poetry: ballad
i believe that this i a ballad because it tells the story of a couple and because it tells a story of a couple that are apart it might be a sonnet.
http://poemhunter.com/poem/missing-him-love-poem/
type:free verse
source:www.hyperborea.org
writer:katerine foreman
What Am I
What I Am
Not a Gregor but some weird accidental
Samsa cousin, of a branch where the baby birds
Are pushed out of the nest on the ends of
Bungee cords, bouncing back up at the first faulty
Flutter of weak fledgling wings.
Not hurt--not allowed to feel hurt by that which
Would wound deeply dealt to other daughters--
No, not hurt, because what could scar is a part
Integral to the whole, and as such unquestionable
Throughout the existence begun and lived in the shadow of this roof.
Not resentful of what I have been handed or
Jealous of anyone else's straight flush against my two aces,
Or hating the dealer or wanting a reshuffle, but
Searching in vain for some line in their chosen Hoyle
That will let me grow, and grow closer to equal.
Not afraid of what I might find when I gather the
Strength to discard my harness, not wishing
For different than is here, but only sad that I
Cannot imagine beyond this (never having known it)
And sad that I could truly desire to be free from love.
type:free verse
kassandra Treviño
http://www.friendship.com.au/poetry/popular/pop4.html#two
A Friend ABC
© Unknown (if someone knows the author, please email me)
(A)ccepts you as you are
(B)elieves in "you"
(C)alls you just to say "HI"
(D)oesn't give up on you
(E)nvisions the whole of you (even the unfinished parts)
(F)orgives your mistakes
(G)ives unconditionally
(H)elps you
(I)nvites you over
(J)ust "be" with you
(K)eeps you close at heart
(L)oves you for who you are
(M)akes a difference in your life
(N)ever Judges
(O)ffers support
(P)icks you up
(Q)uiets your fears
(R)aises your spirits
(S)ays nice things about you
(T)ells you the truth when you need to hear it
(U)nderstands you
(V)alues you
(W)alks beside you
(X)-plain things you don't understand
(Y)ells when you won't listen and
(Z)aps you back to reality
type:epitaph
source:www.education-world.com
writer:greg t.
title:Unkown
Here lies poetry that all children hated.
The last person who taught it, we decapitated.
1993-2???
Here lies Katya Medina
loved ballerina shoes
,but forgot then in her snooze..thats how she fell
from the roof.
Author:Katya Medina
Source:My Head
Type of Poem:Epitaph
Done
Now that you know everything, i have no reason to hide, be shy, or cry.i can fly, im free, this you an see.
i no longer dream of fairy lands, queens, and kings, but now i see things as they be and i know the things that really matter most to me.ive learned my lesson fair and square...take the hard road if you dare, where at the end all you have to offer is a handshake and a stare. jsut know whos really your friends and which ones truly care. look into the future, not the air. if you want a good life start young, there will be time later for fun.
Cause when your old and you look back, your life is DONE!
Author: Malorie Genoff
http://poemhunter.com/poem/done-4/
Type of poetry: i believe that this is a ballad because it tells a story of tells a story of someones life and how they made mistakes
hi mrs. basham....
this is alex.
i dont know if this is gonna work bcs it wont let me log in.
this is my epitath poem, i already posted my free verse.
Thank you for the gift you brought.
thank you for the laughter.
thank you for the love that we share,
and the love we'll soon share after.
epitath.
<33
-alexandra m. garza
it worked!!!
:]
<33
-alex
A POEM FOR EMMA BOBBING
Here lies Emma Bobbing
died of to much shopping.
I WROTE THIS POEM AND MY COUSIN HELPED ME!THIS IS AN EPITAPH BYE CLAUDIA PEREZ
Type:epitaph
Kassandra Treviño
Here lies Leslie who bend for a friend and that was the end.
My cousin helped me with this poem, enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Fortress Of Love
Every marriage has its bumps in the road
And they can pop up at any time.
We must learn to navigate them safely
With fairness, faith and open mind.
No matter how far in your marriage you've gone
The highway of love has its rules.
The excitement of sex, trust and affection
Never tolerates self-serving fools.
They say marriages are made in heaven,
But so are tornadoes, lighting and thunder.
Cold hearts and hot heads never solve anything
They just destroy what we love by blunder.
Boredom, frustration, irritations and anger
Douse the spark between you and your mate.
More of the same fails to feed love s flame
Till you wake up to find it's too late
Human touch sustains the release of endorphins
For both the giver and receiver.
Never be afraid to hug your partner.
For the language of touch is a reliever.
Always remember to support your spouse
When times of dilemma arise.
The fortress of love will sustain your marriage
If you speak less and listen more, you're wise.
Author: Tom Zart
http://www.skywriting.net/inspirational/poems/the_fortress_of_love.html
Type of poetry: ballad because it tells a helping story and can't be made into a song.
Boost of confidence
Dont look back,
just forget,
keep straight,
just don’t quit
be strong,
don’t car if your wrong,
don’t lie, but always try,
have confidence, but don’t be cocky,
walk tall and never sloutchy.
be who you are, not what everyone wants you to be,
be open minded but close your eyes if you cant see.
trust those you know,
know those you trust,
hope you know the differance
between love and lust.
good things come to those that wait,
but tose that wait end up too late,
never make plans,
just set a date.
feelings change so fast,
its hard to tell which ones will last,
and some are better forever masked.
fairytale love,
just as dreams with happily ever after ending themes,
of castles, queens, knights, and kings,
fade away with the morning sun,
and end up nothing as they seem.
Author: Malorie Genoff
http://poemhunter.com/poem/boost-of-confidence/
Type of poetry: this is a ballad because it tells a helping story
Free Verse Poem
Chigago
by
Carl Sandburg
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
Bareheaded,
Shoveling,
Wrecking,
Planning,
Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and under his ribs the heart of the people, Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
Epitaph Poem
My Epitaph Poem
by
Buck Withers
Here lies the man named Buck
he just ran plum out of luck.
He's buried here in the ground
Now ya know where he be found
I have never been so much
In love, in love before
What a difference
How true love made in my life
So nice and so right
Lovers come and then lovers go
That's what the people say
Don't they know
How it feels when you love me
Hold me and say you care
And what we have is much more than they can see
And what we have is much more than they can see
Baby what we have is much more than they see
Oh baby, whoa yeah
I'm in love, I'm in love with you girl
I say love I never knew that a touch
Could mean, could mean so much
What a difference
And when we walk hand in hand
I feel, I feel so real
Lovers come and then lovers go
That's what the people say
Don't they know
How I feel when you love me
Hold me and say you care
And what we have is much more than they can see
And what we have is much more than they can see
Baby, what we have is much more than they can see Hector Author: Gorge benson Ballad
My Blue Heaven
author: unknown
mrs. basham this is my free verse.
enjoy!!
Black snow coats this frozen hell
As it falls quietly from crimson skies,
Stained blood red from every lost dream
Like a grand cemetery where they go to die.
The clouds roll in slowly like a hearse
Whenever I stare at the freedom called stars,
Covering the pink moon like a funeral on Main Street
And just as depressing as those colorless parades are.
A place once called home has become my prison sentence,
Condemned to life in this world of red, pink & black.
I know somewhere beyond these bars that hold me
Is a paradise in which I will never come back.
I dream of blue skies when I make land
Ending my jailbreak upon golden sands,
Of a white crystal parade accompanied by a band
Decked down in uniforms with instruments at hand.
To the masses they’ll play my anthem,
The story of my fight for freedom,
My escape from the tyranny and dark asylum
Where my dreams were torn from me.
On marble floats I’ll ride
Towards a new day leaving everything behind,
I’ll have my mansion with the stars in the sky
And a deep breath on the beaches of tranquility.
One day I’ll have my blue heaven beyond the night.
Pray Without Ceasing
I'm tested and tried
For my Faith every day
I cannot always understand
Even though I humbly pray.
Tests of pain with suffering
So often come in my way
Temptations to sin allure me
Even though I humbly pray.
It's an honor to serve God
With Faith, I trust and obey
I'll just keep walking on
And continue to humbly pray.
Trials and burdens test me
Blue skies often turn to gray
God gives strength to endure
So I'll trust and humbly pray.
God is faithful and true
Troubles at His feet I lay
He will see me on through
If I'm faithful to humbly pray.
I must pray without ceasing
Living for God is the only way
I may not always understand
Even though I humbly pray.
Author: Leona I. Miller
Types of poetry: ballad because this poem tells a story of a mans life.
http://www.skywriting.net/inspirational/poems/pray_without_ceasing.html
here is my free verse mrs basham
Pain-pain-pain
Pain is making me insane
Pain in my dreams pain during the day.. does it ever go away.
Pain that cant be erased in time or softened by a love in your life.
Pain that tears me apart in many ways yet im still alive.
Pain that ruins your life day by day week by week and it doesnt
seem to dissapear.
Pain that cant be described but maybe you will experience later
in your life.
Pain thats caused by others yet you have to fight.
Pain that might last untill the end of your life.
Pain has clamed many lifes yet more will come.. cause I dont
know how much longer I can hold on.
Pain has killed dreams of what I wanted to be come and the
pain is just going on.. and on..
Pain of the cuts in my arms are making me scared... what
will I become if I live for another year...
So this question I ask myself day by day.. should I give in or
try to get on.
1447.90 Miles
If my eyes could illustrate
the way I miss you, they would shine
the distant glow of harbor-towns;
And if my hands could draw your face
with due resemblance, I would never
pass a chance to make you smile.
If my words could muster half
the truth you’ve shown me, I wouldn’t
have to lie about my age;
And if my thanks were near enough
to show you deference, you would know
that love was more than just a noun.
author:GNUboarder
sourse:http://www.poetrybang.com/content/view/933/1024/
type of poem: free verse
LyricIf you go away on this summer's day,
Then you might as well take the sun away
All the birds that flew in the summer sky
When our love was new and our hearts were high
When the day was young and the nights were long
And the moon stood still for the night bird's song
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
But if you stay, I'll make you a day
Like no day has been, or will be again
We'll sail on the sun, we'll ride on the rain
And talk to the trees and worship the wind
But if you go, I'll understand
Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
If you go, as I know you will
You must tell the world to stop turning
Till you return again, if you ever do,
For what good is love without loving you?
Can I tell you now, as you turn to go
I'll be dying slowly till the next hello
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
But if you stay, I'll make you a night
Like no night has been, or will be again
I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch
I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much
But if you go, I won't cry
Though the good is gone from the word goodbye
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
If you go away, as I know you must
There is nothing left in this world to trust
Just an empty room, full of empty space
Like the empty look I see on your face
I'd have been the shadow of your shadow
If you might have kept me by your side
If you go away, if you go away, if you go away.
Lyric Hector Author:Emiliana
hey this is kassy salas hope you like this=]
Here lies what's left of Scotty Blake, and may he rest in peace.
Don't cry, for from his woman, a song shall be ever sung;
she took his best part home with her, in a jar on the mantlepiece
rests the one true love of her life, a nine-inch pickled tongue.
author: scotty
source:http://www.everypoet.org/pffa/archive/index.php/t-30195.html
type of poem: epitaph
title:Unknown
author:Unknown
website: www.google.com
mrs. basham this is my epitath.enjoy!!
P.S. this shows the ending deppresion into doom
Oh let my sudden doom,
A warning be to all,
Even while you bend over my tomb,
You may as quickly fall.
I Love You More Than Words Could Ever Express.
You Are The Life In Me.
You've Given Me Feelings I Have Never Felt Before.
I Love The Way You Make Me Feel.
I Am So Happy Being With You, And So Blessed To Know You.
Without You, I Would Be Nothing.
You Hold All Of My Hopes And Dreams Inside Of You;
And For That, I Will Always Love You. Hey mrs basham Heres my poem Type:fREE VERSE
here mrs basham is my sonnet (i think this is what u wanted?)
The Noise of Pain
What is the purpose of this suffering?
What great intent can justify this pain?
If God is sovereign does He not reign
Over our sorrows? Why no buffering?
When hearts are bleeding why does He not act?
When wounds begin to fester, where is He?
When we are hurting, can our Lord not see?
Is not our healing part of our contract?
Oh Master, we confess we cannot see
The purposes in what you here allow.
Your will be done! In trust we to you bow
And let you plan our end and destiny.
You've told us suffering will end our sin:
Help us hear that word above pain's din.
Robert Grob
(c) 1995
Thank you for all the love you gave me.
There could be no one stronger.
Thank you for the many beautiful songs.
They will live long and longer
Type:Epitaph Auuthor:hank williams Hector
Roberto Ramos
Free Verse
Internet - hyperborea.org
Second
One touch-
-Like death with ribbons or
Pain with sprinkles,
A beautiful package for sadness and loss.
And I loved every moment, dared to feel
Triumphant at the beginning of my own destruction.
And it was my own fault,
My own feet stepping on every ember of cautiousness.
You can't take it back, but I don't want you to.
It has been long enough, waiting in darkness
For candlelight.
And there is no such thing as
Wonderful enough.
-Katherine Foreman
Roberto Ramos
Epitaph
Here lies Mr. Albright,
His decision wasn't at all right, nor was it bright.
Ironic is the moment,
when love turns into death.
HIV took his last breahte...
Goodbye my brother
Death is so permanent
for those who haven’t tried it
Death is too tragic
when destiny shows up early
Death is anything
and everything
like those enjoying wine
Death is a white sky
at night and everything is great
for those who want to imagine
Death is playing banjo
songs without time
Death is a monster movie come alive
for those that have not died
Death has no direction
Death dies out another cigarette
Death is always on vacation
Death rolls the dice
behind whispers of prayers
Death is slow motion
Death is better than sex
Death is good as long as it is somebody else
Death is a sweet symphony
when it ‘s right
Charles Lara
Rumi (1207-73), a Persian Sufi mystic
http://www.english.bham.ac.uk/staff/tom/teaching/lectures/lyric/lyriclecture.htm
In the end you disappeared, gone beyond sight
Strange, the path you took, leaving this world
Strange how the beat of your wings destroyed the cage
And you flew to the world of the soul.
You were a nightingale, drunk amidst the owl music
Drunk with the music of joy
When the scent of the rose garden reached you
You were gone
Now that you are the sun, what good is a crown?
And how do you tie your belt
Now that your body is air?
You were rain from heaven
That fell on this dry earth
And ran everywhere, everywhere
You ran laughing down the gutter
Be silent. Be free
Of all the pain of speech
Don't sleep, since you have moved in
With so wonderful a Lover.
Jacob Oestreich
Lyric poem
He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.
He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.
I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,
"That fellow's got to swing."
Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.
I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
And so he had to die.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
He does not die a death of shame
On a day of dark disgrace,
Nor have a noose about his neck,
Nor a cloth upon his face,
Nor drop feet foremost through the floor
Into an empty place
He does not sit with silent men
Who watch him night and day;
Who watch him when he tries to weep,
And when he tries to pray;
Who watch him lest himself should rob
The prison of its prey.
He does not wake at dawn to see
Dread figures throng his room,
The shivering Chaplain robed in white,
The Sheriff stern with gloom,
And the Governor all in shiny black,
With the yellow face of Doom.
He does not rise in piteous haste
To put on convict-clothes,
While some coarse-mouthed Doctor gloats, and notes
Each new and nerve-twitched pose,
Fingering a watch whose little ticks
Are like horrible hammer-blows.
He does not know that sickening thirst
That sands one's throat, before
The hangman with his gardener's gloves
Slips through the padded door,
And binds one with three leathern thongs,
That the throat may thirst no more.
He does not bend his head to hear
The Burial Office read,
Nor, while the terror of his soul
Tells him he is not dead,
Cross his own coffin, as he moves
Into the hideous shed.
He does not stare upon the air
Through a little roof of glass;
He does not pray with lips of clay
For his agony to pass;
Nor feel upon his shuddering cheek
The kiss of Caiaphas.
II
Six weeks our guardsman walked the yard,
In a suit of shabby grey:
His cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay,
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its ravelled fleeces by.
He did not wring his hands, as do
Those witless men who dare
To try to rear the changeling Hope
In the cave of black Despair:
He only looked upon the sun,
And drank the morning air.
He did not wring his hands nor weep,
Nor did he peek or pine,
But he drank the air as though it held
Some healthful anodyne;
With open mouth he drank the sun
As though it had been wine!
And I and all the souls in pain,
Who tramped the other ring,
Forgot if we ourselves had done
A great or little thing,
And watched with gaze of dull amaze
The man who had to swing.
And strange it was to see him pass
With a step so light and gay,
And strange it was to see him look
So wistfully at the day,
And strange it was to think that he
Had such a debt to pay.
For oak and elm have pleasant leaves
That in the spring-time shoot:
But grim to see is the gallows-tree,
With its adder-bitten root,
And, green or dry, a man must die
Before it bears its fruit!
The loftiest place is that seat of grace
For which all worldlings try:
But who would stand in hempen band
Upon a scaffold high,
And through a murderer's collar take
His last look at the sky?
It is sweet to dance to violins
When Love and Life are fair:
To dance to flutes, to dance to lutes
Is delicate and rare:
But it is not sweet with nimble feet
To dance upon the air!
So with curious eyes and sick surmise
We watched him day by day,
And wondered if each one of us
Would end the self-same way,
For none can tell to what red Hell
His sightless soul may stray.
At last the dead man walked no more
Amongst the Trial Men,
And I knew that he was standing up
In the black dock's dreadful pen,
And that never would I see his face
In God's sweet world again.
Like two doomed ships that pass in storm
We had crossed each other's way:
But we made no sign, we said no word,
We had no word to say;
For we did not meet in the holy night,
But in the shameful day.
A prison wall was round us both,
Two outcast men were we:
The world had thrust us from its heart,
And God from out His care:
And the iron gin that waits for Sin
Had caught us in its snare.
III
In Debtors' Yard the stones are hard,
And the dripping wall is high,
So it was there he took the air
Beneath the leaden sky,
And by each side a Warder walked,
For fear the man might die.
Or else he sat with those who watched
His anguish night and day;
Who watched him when he rose to weep,
And when he crouched to pray;
Who watched him lest himself should rob
Their scaffold of its prey.
The Governor was strong upon
The Regulations Act:
The Doctor said that Death was but
A scientific fact:
And twice a day the Chaplain called
And left a little tract.
And twice a day he smoked his pipe,
And drank his quart of beer:
His soul was resolute, and held
No hiding-place for fear;
He often said that he was glad
The hangman's hands were near.
But why he said so strange a thing
No Warder dared to ask:
For he to whom a watcher's doom
Is given as his task,
Must set a lock upon his lips,
And make his face a mask.
Or else he might be moved, and try
To comfort or console:
And what should Human Pity do
Pent up in Murderers' Hole?
What word of grace in such a place
Could help a brother's soul?
With slouch and swing around the ring
We trod the Fool's Parade!
We did not care: we knew we were
The Devil's Own Brigade:
And shaven head and feet of lead
Make a merry masquerade.
We tore the tarry rope to shreds
With blunt and bleeding nails;
We rubbed the doors, and scrubbed the floors,
And cleaned the shining rails:
And, rank by rank, we soaped the plank,
And clattered with the pails.
We sewed the sacks, we broke the stones,
We turned the dusty drill:
We banged the tins, and bawled the hymns,
And sweated on the mill:
But in the heart of every man
Terror was lying still.
So still it lay that every day
Crawled like a weed-clogged wave:
And we forgot the bitter lot
That waits for fool and knave,
Till once, as we tramped in from work,
We passed an open grave.
With yawning mouth the yellow hole
Gaped for a living thing;
The very mud cried out for blood
To the thirsty asphalte ring:
And we knew that ere one dawn grew fair
Some prisoner had to swing.
Right in we went, with soul intent
On Death and Dread and Doom:
The hangman, with his little bag,
Went shuffling through the gloom
And each man trembled as he crept
Into his numbered tomb.
That night the empty corridors
Were full of forms of Fear,
And up and down the iron town
Stole feet we could not hear,
And through the bars that hide the stars
White faces seemed to peer.
He lay as one who lies and dreams
In a pleasant meadow-land,
The watcher watched him as he slept,
And could not understand
How one could sleep so sweet a sleep
With a hangman close at hand?
But there is no sleep when men must weep
Who never yet have wept:
So we—the fool, the fraud, the knave—
That endless vigil kept,
And through each brain on hands of pain
Another's terror crept.
Alas! it is a fearful thing
To feel another's guilt!
For, right within, the sword of Sin
Pierced to its poisoned hilt,
And as molten lead were the tears we shed
For the blood we had not spilt.
The Warders with their shoes of felt
Crept by each padlocked door,
And peeped and saw, with eyes of awe,
Grey figures on the floor,
And wondered why men knelt to pray
Who never prayed before.
All through the night we knelt and prayed,
Mad mourners of a corpse!
The troubled plumes of midnight were
The plumes upon a hearse:
And bitter wine upon a sponge
Was the savour of Remorse.
The cock crew, the red cock crew,
But never came the day:
And crooked shape of Terror crouched,
In the corners where we lay:
And each evil sprite that walks by night
Before us seemed to play.
They glided past, they glided fast,
Like travellers through a mist:
They mocked the moon in a rigadoon
Of delicate turn and twist,
And with formal pace and loathsome grace
The phantoms kept their tryst.
With mop and mow, we saw them go,
Slim shadows hand in hand:
About, about, in ghostly rout
They trod a saraband:
And the damned grotesques made arabesques,
Like the wind upon the sand!
With the pirouettes of marionettes,
They tripped on pointed tread:
But with flutes of Fear they filled the ear,
As their grisly masque they led,
And loud they sang, and loud they sang,
For they sang to wake the dead.
"Oho!" they cried, "The world is wide,
But fettered limbs go lame!
And once, or twice, to throw the dice
Is a gentlemanly game,
But he does not win who plays with Sin
In the secret House of Shame."
No things of air these antics were
That frolicked with such glee:
To men whose lives were held in gyves,
And whose feet might not go free,
Ah! wounds of Christ! they were living things,
Most terrible to see.
Around, around, they waltzed and wound;
Some wheeled in smirking pairs:
With the mincing step of demirep
Some sidled up the stairs:
And with subtle sneer, and fawning leer,
Each helped us at our prayers.
The morning wind began to moan,
But still the night went on:
Through its giant loom the web of gloom
Crept till each thread was spun:
And, as we prayed, we grew afraid
Of the Justice of the Sun.
The moaning wind went wandering round
The weeping prison-wall:
Till like a wheel of turning-steel
We felt the minutes crawl:
O moaning wind! what had we done
To have such a seneschal?
At last I saw the shadowed bars
Like a lattice wrought in lead,
Move right across the whitewashed wall
That faced my three-plank bed,
And I knew that somewhere in the world
God's dreadful dawn was red.
At six o'clock we cleaned our cells,
At seven all was still,
But the sough and swing of a mighty wing
The prison seemed to fill,
For the Lord of Death with icy breath
Had entered in to kill.
He did not pass in purple pomp,
Nor ride a moon-white steed.
Three yards of cord and a sliding board
Are all the gallows' need:
So with rope of shame the Herald came
To do the secret deed.
We were as men who through a fen
Of filthy darkness grope:
We did not dare to breathe a prayer,
Or give our anguish scope:
Something was dead in each of us,
And what was dead was Hope.
For Man's grim Justice goes its way,
And will not swerve aside:
It slays the weak, it slays the strong,
It has a deadly stride:
With iron heel it slays the strong,
The monstrous parricide!
We waited for the stroke of eight:
Each tongue was thick with thirst:
For the stroke of eight is the stroke of Fate
That makes a man accursed,
And Fate will use a running noose
For the best man and the worst.
We had no other thing to do,
Save to wait for the sign to come:
So, like things of stone in a valley lone,
Quiet we sat and dumb:
But each man's heart beat thick and quick
Like a madman on a drum!
With sudden shock the prison-clock
Smote on the shivering air,
And from all the gaol rose up a wail
Of impotent despair,
Like the sound that frightened marshes hear
>From a leper in his lair.
And as one sees most fearful things
In the crystal of a dream,
We saw the greasy hempen rope
Hooked to the blackened beam,
And heard the prayer the hangman's snare
Strangled into a scream.
And all the woe that moved him so
That he gave that bitter cry,
And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats,
None knew so well as I:
For he who live more lives than one
More deaths than one must die.
IV
There is no chapel on the day
On which they hang a man:
The Chaplain's heart is far too sick,
Or his face is far to wan,
Or there is that written in his eyes
Which none should look upon.
So they kept us close till nigh on noon,
And then they rang the bell,
And the Warders with their jingling keys
Opened each listening cell,
And down the iron stair we tramped,
Each from his separate Hell.
Out into God's sweet air we went,
But not in wonted way,
For this man's face was white with fear,
And that man's face was grey,
And I never saw sad men who looked
So wistfully at the day.
I never saw sad men who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
We prisoners called the sky,
And at every careless cloud that passed
In happy freedom by.
But their were those amongst us all
Who walked with downcast head,
And knew that, had each got his due,
They should have died instead:
He had but killed a thing that lived
Whilst they had killed the dead.
For he who sins a second time
Wakes a dead soul to pain,
And draws it from its spotted shroud,
And makes it bleed again,
And makes it bleed great gouts of blood
And makes it bleed in vain!
Like ape or clown, in monstrous garb
With crooked arrows starred,
Silently we went round and round
The slippery asphalte yard;
Silently we went round and round,
And no man spoke a word.
Silently we went round and round,
And through each hollow mind
The memory of dreadful things
Rushed like a dreadful wind,
An Horror stalked before each man,
And terror crept behind.
The Warders strutted up and down,
And kept their herd of brutes,
Their uniforms were spick and span,
And they wore their Sunday suits,
But we knew the work they had been at
By the quicklime on their boots.
For where a grave had opened wide,
There was no grave at all:
Only a stretch of mud and sand
By the hideous prison-wall,
And a little heap of burning lime,
That the man should have his pall.
For he has a pall, this wretched man,
Such as few men can claim:
Deep down below a prison-yard,
Naked for greater shame,
He lies, with fetters on each foot,
Wrapt in a sheet of flame!
And all the while the burning lime
Eats flesh and bone away,
It eats the brittle bone by night,
And the soft flesh by the day,
It eats the flesh and bones by turns,
But it eats the heart alway.
For three long years they will not sow
Or root or seedling there:
For three long years the unblessed spot
Will sterile be and bare,
And look upon the wondering sky
With unreproachful stare.
They think a murderer's heart would taint
Each simple seed they sow.
It is not true! God's kindly earth
Is kindlier than men know,
And the red rose would but blow more red,
The white rose whiter blow.
Out of his mouth a red, red rose!
Out of his heart a white!
For who can say by what strange way,
Christ brings his will to light,
Since the barren staff the pilgrim bore
Bloomed in the great Pope's sight?
But neither milk-white rose nor red
May bloom in prison air;
The shard, the pebble, and the flint,
Are what they give us there:
For flowers have been known to heal
A common man's despair.
So never will wine-red rose or white,
Petal by petal, fall
On that stretch of mud and sand that lies
By the hideous prison-wall,
To tell the men who tramp the yard
That God's Son died for all.
Yet though the hideous prison-wall
Still hems him round and round,
And a spirit man not walk by night
That is with fetters bound,
And a spirit may not weep that lies
In such unholy ground,
He is at peace—this wretched man—
At peace, or will be soon:
There is no thing to make him mad,
Nor does Terror walk at noon,
For the lampless Earth in which he lies
Has neither Sun nor Moon.
They hanged him as a beast is hanged:
They did not even toll
A requiem that might have brought
Rest to his startled soul,
But hurriedly they took him out,
And hid him in a hole.
They stripped him of his canvas clothes,
And gave him to the flies;
They mocked the swollen purple throat
And the stark and staring eyes:
And with laughter loud they heaped the shroud
In which their convict lies.
The Chaplain would not kneel to pray
By his dishonoured grave:
Nor mark it with that blessed Cross
That Christ for sinners gave,
Because the man was one of those
Whom Christ came down to save.
Yet all is well; he has but passed
To Life's appointed bourne:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourner will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.
V
I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in goal
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.
But this I know, that every Law
That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took his brother's life,
And the sad world began,
But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.
This too I know—and wise it were
If each could know the same—
That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their brothers maim.
With bars they blur the gracious moon,
And blind the goodly sun:
And they do well to hide their Hell,
For in it things are done
That Son of God nor son of Man
Ever should look upon!
The vilest deeds like poison weeds
Bloom well in prison-air:
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,
And the Warder is Despair
For they starve the little frightened child
Till it weeps both night and day:
And they scourge the weak, and flog the fool,
And gibe the old and grey,
And some grow mad, and all grow bad,
And none a word may say.
Each narrow cell in which we dwell
Is foul and dark latrine,
And the fetid breath of living Death
Chokes up each grated screen,
And all, but Lust, is turned to dust
In Humanity's machine.
The brackish water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed and cries to Time.
But though lean Hunger and green Thirst
Like asp with adder fight,
We have little care of prison fare,
For what chills and kills outright
Is that every stone one lifts by day
Becomes one's heart by night.
With midnight always in one's heart,
And twilight in one's cell,
We turn the crank, or tear the rope,
Each in his separate Hell,
And the silence is more awful far
Than the sound of a brazen bell.
And never a human voice comes near
To speak a gentle word:
And the eye that watches through the door
Is pitiless and hard:
And by all forgot, we rot and rot,
With soul and body marred.
And thus we rust Life's iron chain
Degraded and alone:
And some men curse, and some men weep,
And some men make no moan:
But God's eternal Laws are kind
And break the heart of stone.
And every human heart that breaks,
In prison-cell or yard,
Is as that broken box that gave
Its treasure to the Lord,
And filled the unclean leper's house
With the scent of costliest nard.
Ah! happy day they whose hearts can break
And peace of pardon win!
How else may man make straight his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?
How else but through a broken heart
May Lord Christ enter in?
And he of the swollen purple throat.
And the stark and staring eyes,
Waits for the holy hands that took
The Thief to Paradise;
And a broken and a contrite heart
The Lord will not despise.
The man in red who reads the Law
Gave him three weeks of life,
Three little weeks in which to heal
His soul of his soul's strife,
And cleanse from every blot of blood
The hand that held the knife.
And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal:
And the crimson stain that was of Cain
Became Christ's snow-white seal.
VI
In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten by teeth of flame,
In burning winding-sheet he lies,
And his grave has got no name.
And there, till Christ call forth the dead,
In silence let him lie:
No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Jacob Oestreich
Ballad Poem
http://www.poetry-online.org/wilde_the_ballad_of_reading_goal.htm
The Ballad Of Reading Gaol a poem by Oscar Wilde
Here we go,
Once upon a time not long ago,
when people wore pajamas and lived life slow,
When laws were stern and justice stood,
and people were behavin' like they ought ta good,
There lived a lil' boy who was misled,
by anotha lil' boy and this is what he said:
"Me, Ya, Ty, we gonna make sum cash,
robbin' old folks and makin' tha dash",
They did the job, money came with ease,
but one couldn't stop, it's like he had a disease,
He robbed another and another and a sista and her brotha,
tried to rob a man who was a D.T. undercover,
The cop grabbed his arm, he started acting erratic,
he said "Keep still, boy, no need for static",
Punched him in his belly and he gave him a slap,
but little did he know the lil' boy was strapped,
The kid pulled out a gun, he said "Why did ya hit me ?",
the barrel was set straight for the cop's kidney,
The cop got scared, the kid, he starts to figure,
"I'll do years if I pull this trigga",
So he cold dashed and ran around the block,
cop radioes it to another lady cop,
He ran by a tree, there he saw this sista,
a shot for the head, he shot back but he missed her,
Looked around good and from expectations,
so he decided he'd head for the subway stations,
But she was coming and he made a left,
he was runnin' top speed till he was outta breath,
Knocked an old man down and swore he killed him,
then he made his move to an abandoned building,
Ran up the stairs up to the top floor,
opened up the door there, guess who he saw?,
Dave the dope fiend shootin' dope,
who don't know the meaning of water nor soap,
He said "I need bullets, hurry up, run!"
the dope fiend brought back a spanking shotgun,
He went outside but there was cops all over,
then he dipped into a car, a stolen Nova (?),
Raced up the block doing 83,
crashed into a tree near university,
Escaped alive though the car was battered,
rat-a-tat-tatted and all the cops scattered,
Ran out of bullets and still had static,
grabbed a pregnant lady and out the automatic,
Pointed at her head and he said the gun was full o' lead,
he told the cops "Back off or honey here's dead",
Deep in his heart he knew he was wrong,
so he let the lady go and he starts to run on,
Sirens sounded, he seemed astounded,
before long the lil' boy got surrounded,
He dropped the gun, so went the glory,
and this is the way I must end this story,
He was only seventeen, in a madman's dream,
the cops shot the kid, I still hear him scream,
This ain't funny so don't ya dare laugh,
just another case 'bout the wrong path,
Straight 'n narrow or yo' soul gets cast(?).
Good Night.
Jacob Oestreich
Lyric Poem
By Slick Rick
http://www.lyricsdownload.com/slick-rick-a-children-s-story-lyrics.html
Here lies The body of Jacob,
He finally escaped from this prison,
We know that right no he is happy,
Because H died while having fun.
By JacobOestreich
Epitaht
mrs.Basham this is my epitaph.
writer:me
source:my brain
Here lies marten ortiz,
who was as honest as a coin but like any coins it can change face.
Mrs. Basham this is my free verse enjoy!
Title: A Hero
Author: Nicola Burkett
from: Marten Ortiz
A hero thinks of others before they think of themselves
A hero will die to protect
A hero can be of any age, any colour
A hero can be man, woman or child
A hero is courageous, loving and brave
A hero will never complain
A hero can be made in one act of compassion
Or years of tender loving care
Some hero's are remembered, whilst many are left forgotten
Hero's are angels in disguise, saving precious innocent lives
(Dedicated to the memory of Pvt. Steven Freund & All fallen men of Iraq)
Awake
My last night as a full-time childI didn't want to sleep, for fear ofWaking up in a rustle of too-crisp sheetsAnd a creak of inadequate bedspringsWith a lightly snoring virtual stranger eight feet away.And also I didn't want it to be tomorrow,Because then it would be time to do whatI've denied for three weeks of subsistenceAnd oblivion--ignoring is bliss.And I saw everything I never didLying around me, pieces and steps of theSuccess I never got, reminders thatWhatever I planned, I never got far.But in the middle of these broken promisesTo myself, I could see for the first timeThat I have not been broken.And I must keep myself, all that is real,As daybreak does, and nightfall.I exist to others, but all I need is me.I will be the last promise, when all is saidAnd kept.
Source: http://www.hyperborea.org/alenxa/free.html#awake
Author:Katherine Foreman
Type:Free-Verse
In a cemetery in England:
Remember man, as you walk by,As you are now, so once was I,As I am now, so shall you be,Remember this and follow me.
Source:http://www.usroots.com/~jautrey/genealogy/genpoems/epitaphs.htm
Type:Epitaph
Author:Unknown
PABLO FAZ
FREE VERSE
TEEN POEMS
http://teenink.com/Past/2007/January/20932.html
Party
by Aixin W., Rochester, NY
We feasted on salsa-dipped chips
Licked our grainy fingers.
We decorated golden masks
And hid inhibition behind.
We jumped, danced
Wildly like some strange tribe
In circles around and around
Until we were dizzy with
Faltering steps,
But we were driven
Driven by sheer youth.
We danced on.
Bursts of laughter erupting
We played dangerously with knives,
Drunken on punch,
Popping innocuous balloons.
We skipped on the grass outside,
Wet and cool to our bare feet;
The pretense of black heels hurt
And had long been abandoned.
We screamed at passing cars
Our masks glittering with artificial stars.
We lay and talked beneath the hazy sky,
Crouched on the driveway in our fancy dresses.
Tomorrow I’d wake up
To faded glow sticks, leftover food,
To dead flies drowned in the punch
And bags under my eyes.
I’d have messy, tangled-up hair
And my ice-cream-stained dress,
And the magic will be gone. But tonight -
The night is still young.
hi Mrs. Basham
:]
This is my free verse...
He watches her as she walks away
With nothing left to say
A tear drops from her eye
Knowing he didn't say goodbye
One last chance he had
to tell her how he felt
bit instead he let her walkaway
letiing her heart melt
She loved him like noone ever would
She loved him the only way she could
with all her heart
but she knew slowly
they were falling apart
they said till the end
but for them the end came to soon
<33
~Casandra Cortez
i had to make another account..
it would not let me log in..
but it similar to my other one.
My Epitath
Here Lies Casie
Nice and Sassy
Sweet but mean
now six feet deep
:]
<33
~casandra cortez
Awake
My last night as a full-time child
I didn't want to sleep, for fear of
Waking up in a rustle of too-crisp sheets
And a creak of inadequate bedsprings
With a lightly snoring virtual stranger eight feet away.
And also I didn't want it to be tomorrow,
Because then it would be time to do what
I've denied for three weeks of subsistence
And oblivion--ignoring is bliss.
And I saw everything I never did
Lying around me, pieces and steps of the
Success I never got, reminders that
Whatever I planned, I never got far.
But in the middle of these broken promises
To myself, I could see for the first time
That I have not been broken.
And I must keep myself, all that is real,
As daybreak does, and nightfall.
I exist to others, but all I need is me.
I will be the last promise, when all is said
And kept.
Copyright © 1996 by Katherine Foreman.
the website is http://www.hyperborea.org/alenxa/free.html#awake
Awake
My last night as a full-time child
I didn't want to sleep, for fear of
Waking up in a rustle of too-crisp sheets
And a creak of inadequate bedsprings
With a lightly snoring virtual stranger eight feet away.
And also I didn't want it to be tomorrow,
Because then it would be time to do what
I've denied for three weeks of subsistence
And oblivion--ignoring is bliss.
And I saw everything I never did
Lying around me, pieces and steps of the
Success I never got, reminders that
Whatever I planned, I never got far.
But in the middle of these broken promises
To myself, I could see for the first time
That I have not been broken.
And I must keep myself, all that is real,
As daybreak does, and nightfall.
I exist to others, but all I need is me.
I will be the last promise, when all is said
And kept.
Copyright © 1996 by Katherine Foreman.
the website is http://www.hyperborea.org/alenxa/free.html#awake
Betrayed
Spoken--a word implicit.
A concept--broken.
Trust--
A token, dropped
In the machine--
Time's up.
I have proven over
And again, I am
Tougher than I seem--
A fool still, hopeful.
And you never say
You grant me equal credibility
Or similar delusions.
To believe everything
You say--how can
I give you what I am not given?
But I do--
I would, and I will.
And I let you
Keep pieces of me
Locked, keyed to you
Secretly--only I
Can no longer
Be sure of finding them--
You will tell me,
I or you
Right or wrong.
And this new
Revisionist me
Wants only to be right
And for you to know.
Copyright © 1997 by Katherine Foreman.
http://www.hyperborea.org/alenxa/free.html#betrayed
Here are my epitaphs and free verse poems.
“My Heart”
Words: Uriel
It was that day,
It was that night,
It was that moment,
In our life.
That day told me,
“You were the one,”
That night I knew
You would be mine.
When it is day,
I think of you,
And at night,
My dream is you.
You are my day,
You are my night,
You kill the solitude of my heart.
“People Say”
Words: Uriel
People say,
That love and hate,
Walk along the same way.
You may love,
You may hate,
The same person in a day.
I have loved you since that day,
When I found you in my way.
After loving you so long,
All the way without parole,
Not my heart,
Not my soul,
Has ever hated you at all.
People say,
That love and hate,
Walk along the same way.
You may love,
You may hate,
The same person in a day.
I love you since then,
I love you more today.
When you love the way I do,
No hatred may ever come through.
Words: Thomas Hood
Source: www.theholidayspot.com
“I Love Thee”
I love thee, I love thee,
'Tis all that I can say;
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day.
Epitaphs
“Just as Love in Life Can Lessen Pain”
Book of Epitaphs
Words: Barry Tailor
Just as love in life can lessen pain,
Even more it soothes the pain of death.
For you our love must come and go like rain;
For me it is my heart, my word, my breath.
Words: Edgar Brown
Book of Epitaphs
“Never Dies”
To live in the hearts of those we love is never to die.
Words: Wyatt Earp
Book of Epitaphs
“The Value of Love”
Nothing’s So Sacred As Honor
And
Nothing’s So Loyal As Love
Be patient with life
Be patient with life, despite its cruelty.
Often it seems careless of our pain,
But just as often brings us hope again.
Remember, I wanted happiness for you.
Under every foolish word this still was true.
Be happy, then, without, as you would with me.
In your life many sweet events remain.
Not in anguish, but in joy remember me.
by Turlough O'Carolan.
can be found in http://www.poemsforfree.com/brubin.html
"Tim"Tim could not recall his mom, he didn't know his dad;
His life was always shuffled 'round, he was a troubled lad;
His years upon this mortal world had only totaled five,
At times he'd slept upon the street, he'd barely stayed alive;
They found him yes, when he was two, hiding in a box,
He had a bag of jelly beans and several colored rocks;
They didn't know how long he'd been living on his own,
They only knew he looked a mess, they couldn't find his home;
He clutched a tattered dirty bear, its name was quite unique,
He said his bear was "Uzzy boy," to us the name was Greek;
Y'see Timmy didn't speak a lot, his words were very few,
He often cried, "I wan my om," but no one had a clue;
His time was spent in foster homes, he wasn't treated well,
His life was kicked from place to place, it was a living hell;
His parents, on the other hand, had searched for Tim in vain,
They thought Tims life had ended, their lives were wrought with pain;
They used to laugh and play with Tim, he even had a cat,
He had a bear named Fuzzyboy, a plastic ball and bat;
One day the cat went out the door and headed down the street,
Tim followed "Kitty" close behind with tiny naked feet;
The rest is not important, little Tim was lost,
It must have been so cold that night, the morning grass had frost;
As time went by little Tim was traded to and fro,
His life was so unstable and all he heard was" No!"
Christmas yes, was here again, a time he would abhor,
He knew he would be moved again, of this he was quite sure;
At five, Tim had but just one friend in whom he could confide,
That little friend was "Uzzyboy," his one and only pride;
As Christmas day grew ever near the papers all got signed,
Soon Tim would be adopted, he hoped they would be kind;
Every time he'd changed his home, he saw it in their eyes,
They started off by acting nice, it was a proven guise;
The time for their arrival would be on Christmas morn,
The time that Christ the Savior came, the day that he was born;
If miracles could ever be, he prayed that he might find,
A couple that would hug him tight, he really wouldn't mind;
His foster parents cleaned him up, but took away his bear,
That tattered rag would have to go, they really didn't care;
Tim cried inside, his throat grew sore, that bear was his best friend,
Little Tim was all alone, his heart may never mend;
Then came a shallow knocking sound from just outside the door,
It was the social service girl, the one he'd seen before;
She gripped his hand and held it tight and Tim began to cry,
She held him very tenderly and tried to dry his eyes;
She was there when Tim was found, she knew his story well,
She finally found a mom and dad, a pair that wouldn't yell;
His future mom and dad had sent a package tied with string,
Tim would eye it carefully to see what it would bring;
Then all at once his eyes welled up and tears began to flow,
The precious present he'd unwrapped caused his face to glow;
The ride was long, the car was warm, the destination near,
His heart was pounding furiously, the future so unclear;
And now the car began to slow, his confidence had grown,
The place where they had stopped and parked was like a place he'd known;
There were those stairs of painted wood, they even had a cat,
The social lady rang the bell and then he spied the bat;
A plastic bat was hung against the door above a sign,
He really couldn't read just yet, he knew he would in time;
And then he heard them running hard to open up the door,
They picked him up and squeezed him tight, they loved him that's for sure;
And then Tim thought to thank them both because it was so right,
for giving him an "Uzzyboy" to sleep with him that night;
The mother fell upon her knees and asked," What did you say?"
Tim said, "Thanks for Uzzyboy, I lost him once today!"
And then her tears began to flow, as father grabbed his heart,
They said this was a miracle, that God had done his part;
The social lady stood in awe, then dawned a glorious thought,
That she had just united them, with one whom they had sought;
Then mother screamed, "I yov you Tim!" That took him by surprise,
He recognized that baby talk, and recognized her eyes;
And then the spirit filled their souls, old memories came anew,,
"Thank you Lord," they humbly prayed, "that thou hast blessed us too."
by:Ralph Fallentine/Ballad poem
www.silentwords.com/balladpoems/Tim
Twisted Ribbon of Fate
by Stephanie T., Cincinnati, OH
Twisted ribbon of fate
Tangled by the wind
Detached by jagged, bloody scissors
Never to be heard of again.
Free at last
And falling fast
Turmoil spread under the sun
Traces of thread scattered on the road
The ribbon has come undone
Boiling streams and machine-gun trees
Bleed the ribbon of her soul,
Turn the virgin moon blood red
The drinkable sky, black coal
What dark, twisted fingers
Muted the soul’s youthful scream,
Tossed out the beating heart’s plea,
Fooled the mind into a devil’s scheme?
Pure intentions were starved of hope
Shattered dreams melted in the sun
Rebellious cries muffled by the hand,
Free thoughts to be shunned.
How did fate become so twisted
In this calm before the storm?
How did her thoughts turn icy cold
Under such warm and healing sun?
Twisted Ribbon of Fate
by Stephanie T., Cincinnati, OH
Twisted ribbon of fate
Tangled by the wind
Detached by jagged, bloody scissors
Never to be heard of again.
Free at last
And falling fast
Turmoil spread under the sun
Traces of thread scattered on the road
The ribbon has come undone
Boiling streams and machine-gun trees
Bleed the ribbon of her soul,
Turn the virgin moon blood red
The drinkable sky, black coal
What dark, twisted fingers
Muted the soul’s youthful scream,
Tossed out the beating heart’s plea,
Fooled the mind into a devil’s scheme?
Pure intentions were starved of hope
Shattered dreams melted in the sun
Rebellious cries muffled by the hand,
Free thoughts to be shunned.
How did fate become so twisted
In this calm before the storm?
How did her thoughts turn icy cold
Under such warm and healing sun?
Free Verse
Aly Mclay
Here lies Aly Mclay,
drank a six pack a day. She started drinking at age eight
now she doesn't look to great.
Epitaph/Bianca Tamez
MIKE THE COFFEE JERK
Who are you to criticize?
I do the best I can.
My friends and fans are people of all ages.
You can holler fighting words;
It don’t make you a man.
Society puts punks like you in cages.
I know you are a failure,
But don’t take it out on me.
Go back behind the counter, coffee’s brewing.
I know the very reason
Why you rage so spitefully:
You wish that you could do what I am doing.
How dare you accuse me
Of attracting the wrong crowd?
You should be impressed that I can draw one.
People know me on the street
And call my name out loud.
You didn’t know a gift horse when you saw one.
You treat all my teenaged fans
The way you treat your dog:
You make them stand outside in freezing weather.
When I see them disappear
Like shadows in the fog,
I know they won’t be coming back here ever.
You say all teenagers lie
And never tell the truth.
That is such a lie, and you’ve told many.
I remember what it’s like
To be a searching youth:
They need a place to hang and don’t have any.
You don’t like teenagers
If they have no cash to spend.
If I give them a concert, it’s a free one.
I treat them all as young adults
And count them as my friends.
I love them all, because I used to be one.
Lake Placid, New York, 1996
www.northnet.org/minstrel/mike.htm
MIKE THE COFFEE JERK
Who are you to criticize?
I do the best I can.
My friends and fans are people of all ages.
You can holler fighting words;
It don’t make you a man.
Society puts punks like you in cages.
I know you are a failure,
But don’t take it out on me.
Go back behind the counter, coffee’s brewing.
I know the very reason
Why you rage so spitefully:
You wish that you could do what I am doing.
How dare you accuse me
Of attracting the wrong crowd?
You should be impressed that I can draw one.
People know me on the street
And call my name out loud.
You didn’t know a gift horse when you saw one.
You treat all my teenaged fans
The way you treat your dog:
You make them stand outside in freezing weather.
When I see them disappear
Like shadows in the fog,
I know they won’t be coming back here ever.
You say all teenagers lie
And never tell the truth.
That is such a lie, and you’ve told many.
I remember what it’s like
To be a searching youth:
They need a place to hang and don’t have any.
You don’t like teenagers
If they have no cash to spend.
If I give them a concert, it’s a free one.
I treat them all as young adults
And count them as my friends.
I love them all, because I used to be one.
Lake Placid, New York, 1996
www.northnet.org/minstrel/mike.htm
LYRIC/Bianca Tamez
Epitath to a Dog
Near this spot Are deposited the Remains
of one
Who possessed
Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
And all the Virtues of Man
Without his Vices.
This Praise, which would be unmeaning flattery
If inscribed over Human Ashes,
Is but a just tribute to the Memory of
"Boatswain," a Dog
Who was born at Newfoundland,
May, 1803,
And died at Newstead Abbey
Nov. 18, 1808.
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And storied urns record who rests below.
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth-
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power-
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on-it honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one-and here he lies.
...Lord Byron's Tribute to "Boatswain"
Mrs.basham here is my epitath
Baseball
Big baseball bats broken by Ben
Big baseballs bouncing backward
The bats were hurt
They had a broken heart
The baseballs were crying
They bounced so much they were black and blue
The fields were laughing at such a funny sight
Mrs.Basham here is my free verse poem
PABLO FAZ
FREE VERSE
TEEN POEMS
http://teenink.com/Past/2007/January/20932.html
Party
by Aixin W., Rochester, NY
We feasted on salsa-dipped chips
Licked our grainy fingers.
We decorated golden masks
And hid inhibition behind.
We jumped, danced
Wildly like some strange tribe
In circles around and around
Until we were dizzy with
Faltering steps,
But we were driven
Driven by sheer youth.
We danced on.
Bursts of laughter erupting
We played dangerously with knives,
Drunken on punch,
Popping innocuous balloons.
We skipped on the grass outside,
Wet and cool to our bare feet;
The pretense of black heels hurt
And had long been abandoned.
We screamed at passing cars
Our masks glittering with artificial stars.
We lay and talked beneath the hazy sky,
Crouched on the driveway in our fancy dresses.
Tomorrow I’d wake up
To faded glow sticks, leftover food,
To dead flies drowned in the punch
And bags under my eyes.
I’d have messy, tangled-up hair
And my ice-cream-stained dress,
And the magic will be gone. But tonight -
The night is still young.
My Little Toy Soldier
Just a little toy soldier,
forced to fight,
told to kill,
cold at nights.
You eat so little,
you've been on a run.
You have a family that loves you waiting at home
Though, you continue to fight,
you fight for me.
With a tear in your eye,
You're there for your country.
You're so strong you've been through so much
surrounded by the bodies of whom you may love.
You might not agree with why you are there
you still fight, though it's not fair
With confidence you hold your head high,
for your a proud soldier with so much pride!
Free Verse
By Haley J. Moudy
www.poetryamerica.com?read_poems.asp?id=259455
Pablo Faz
Epitaph
source:pablo faz
Her lies Pablo Faz
He ate tooo much hotsauce
but it was too hot.
Getting to know me
Four line poems seem to have their appeal
all of them being the same length
but have a different flow
Poems aren't round
Jason Elster
Type:Freeverse
source:www.poemhunter.com
Alma Provencio
Mrs. Basham here is my sonnet
To His Love
SHALL I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:—
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
-William Shakespeare
website:http://www.pitt.edu/~poole/shakespeare.html
Website: www.sonnetwriters
From: Marten Ortiz
Author: Scott Ennis
Sands of War
August 26th, 2006 at 8:26 am
The sands of war smell sterile in the sun
Until they’re heaped upon the heated dead
They catalyze the stench of what’s been done
While covering the images of dread
The sands of war flash like ignited gas
When winds of chaos sear their clouds of dust
Which burn the flesh of everything they pass
As if the will of god declares they must
One hundred thousand soldiers would be brave
To spend a year upon the sands of war
A fool would put them all into a grave
Before admitting what he sent them for
But heated sands of war can also cool
And no one has to die for any fool
hope you like my ballad poem!-ana sanchez- When Do I Think Of You?
I think of you in the peace
solitude and stillness of the early a.m., for
you are tranquillity.
I think of you on an ocean's front,
for you are the roar of the waves,
the power of the sea, and the salt in the air.
I think of you amidst a crowd
and the chorus of city sounds
...for that is my song, and you are the music.
You are my first thought of each new day,
and the last image I glimpse, as my eyes are
closed upon a feathered pillow.
In that secret place called sleep, it is you that
I search for, through shades of darkness and
clouds of cotton.
When do I think of you? Every moment
of my life. And, when the final sleep does come
and if there is thought...
it will be of you.
© Joe Fazio
Ocean
Hope that you like my freeverse! i tried my best. Love is like the ocean,
On the surface it is clear and plain, but at the bottom it’s beautiful, full of fish, and colors of all sort.
The surroundings matter not, nor the surface, but what is inside, in the deep sea, where it’s just you and that special person.
By: Ana Sanchez
Here is my sonnet poem,p.s. its kool having my own website!-Ana Sanchez-
Love is...
Love is...
Love is a feeling that is so sweet
Love is a feeling that you cannot beat
Love is a feeling that you feel deep
Love is...
Love is a challenge you have to face
Love is an emotion you must embrace
Love is a topic that stays on your case
Love is...
Love is an issue that cannot be ignored
Love is around when things get bored
Love is like a bird ready to soar
Love is...
Love is around when times get bad
Love is there when you get sad
Love is really all you ever had
Love is...
Love is me and love is you
Love is made not by one but by two
Love is the feeling felt by you
Love is...
shamika thompson
type of poem: sonnet
heres my epitaph
Love, Love, Love, Love Love, Love, Love, And You
WHEN DO I THINK OF YOU?
I think of you in the peace
solitude and stillness of the early a.m., for
you are tranquillity.
I think of you on an ocean's front,
for you are the roar of the waves,
the power of the sea, and the salt in the air.
I think of you amidst a crowd
and the chorus of city sounds
...for that is my song, and you are the music.
You are my first thought of each new day,
and the last image I glimpse, as my eyes are
closed upon a feathered pillow.
In that secret place called sleep, it is you that
I search for, through shades of darkness and
clouds of cotton.
When do I think of you? Every moment
of my life. And, when the final sleep does come
and if there is thought...
it will be of you.
© Joe Fazio
Joe Fazio (best of)
Here's my English sonnet,enjoy.
Sandrine Sonnet Cycle - Sonnet XVIII - Parody William Shakespeare
Shall I compare her...
Shall I compare her to a summer’s day?
A thousand times more sweet she seems to me!
Nor may Time’s winds – (which darling buds of May
Do shake) – unsettle love’s perennity.
Restrained the eye of heaven sometimes seems,
It often sends a drought, or shines too hot,
No permanence is possible. Like dreams
Each season soon declines, returning not.
Vain are Time’s threats when, lacking base designs,
A poet frames her praises in fair verse,
Imprinting for the future lyric lines
Lending life when all else hearse rehearse.
Life glories her as long as Man draws breath,
As Never tasting shadow land of Death ...
© Jonathan Robin – Acrostic sonnet written 28 October 1992
Parody William Shakespeare Sonnet XVIII
Jonathan ROBIN
Type of poem:English Sonnet
Source:www.poemhunter.com
Gloria Vasquez
XXXVIII
I fell apart–my center would not hold;
my kingdom crashed around a broken man
whose shepherding lost focus on his fold
and placed his lowly self before the clan.
What progress had I made besides my own
indulgent acts, ambitiously designed
to chisel out my name in frozen stone
so all may praise what I will leave behind?
You touched me–in the moment I was lost
and simultaneously found anew–
I stumbled forward once our paths had crossed,
to find my every sight in clearer view.
This changed and better planet I adore,
and play my part more gladly than before.
Author: G.B., stationary minstrel
Source: http://www.sonnetwriters.com/
Type: Sonnet
His Name was Randy
R.I.P.
To Mr.Randy who died slowly of brain damage.
His Name was Randy,
He just loved to eat candy.
He loved to eat things that were sweet,
but what he just found out was that he had smelly feet.
Author: Ashley Yanez
Type: Epitath
XXXVIII
I fell apart–my center would not hold;
my kingdom crashed around a broken man
whose shepherding lost focus on his fold
and placed his lowly self before the clan.
What progress had I made besides my own
indulgent acts, ambitiously designed
to chisel out my name in frozen stone
so all may praise what I will leave behind?
You touched me–in the moment I was lost
and simultaneously found anew–
I stumbled forward once our paths had crossed,
to find my every sight in clearer view.
This changed and better planet I adore,
and play my part more gladly than before.
Author: G.B., stationary minstrel
Source: http://www.sonnetwriters.com/
Type: Sonnet
My Sad Poems
Sad poems always make me cry
Cause i love sad stories
I cry harder if
The hero he does die
You can have your sad movies
They dont make me cry
I have to have them sad poems
I have to see them
Appear in my dream
When i write them sad poems
They always make me cry
My woman always leave me
In my sad poems
Then they become sadder poems
That always make me cry
I wouldn't tell a lie
If i were to say
That i shed a little tear
When i read my sad poems
That always make me cry
Author: allan james saywell
Source: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-sad-poems/
Type: Free Verse
Miss Basham my poems, and my Sonnet are in my profile...
ALEX RAMOS
Love, Love, Love, Love, Love, Love, Love, Love, Always
THE DREAM
I make my way, through the heavily treed,
leaf covered path, I suddenly see you,
standing there, surrounded by wild flowers.
Behind you, a small stream, trembles it's way down
the mountainside. You are so radiantly beautiful,
I overflow, ache with love for you. No words are
spoken. I find myself bursting, for want of your love.
For the need to hold you...touch you.
Slowly, we make our way toward each other.
We meet amid a bed of soft, green moss.
Our hands reach out, touch, and as if in
slow motion, we find ourselves seated
on this bed of Gods making. Your lips
are moist, my heart pounding. Your breath
quickens, as the rise and fall of your full
breasts seem to try to free themselves.
I'm am inches from those lips, I have long
for. As you move toward me, we kiss.
A long, moist, tender... hungry kiss.
A kiss, that fulfills all the promises of
love. I feel myself, melting into your very soul.
I lay you gently back on the bed of green.
You touching the pulsating volcano
beneath my pants. I unbutton your blouse,
and free you from the thin veiled garment,
that had covered your hardened nipples.
For a brief moment, I stare at you.
Your breasts, moist with desire and your
eyes fill with love and the promise of ecstasy.
I tremble, as if a magnet, the brown circles of
desire, atop your milky white breasts, draw my lips,
to softly encircle your erect nipples.Your hands slide
behind my head, and crush my lips to your softness.
You rip open my pants, clutching the hard roundness, of
my throbbing flesh. I touch you in your most private part
and it is wet...wanting. We clutch, grab, explore
each other, like two wild animals. You open yourself
to me, and murmur, 'Now...now...please now.'
I can wait no longer, as my missile of love,
on the verge of exploding, seeks the inviting wetness,
between your legs. I can barely contain myself, then....
The phone rings. No! No! Not now!
It keeps ringing...ringing...ringing!
Keeper of dreams, I beg you...not now!
Please...not now!
The vision evaporates! I try to recapture
it. The phone, now sounding like an
alarm, persists. I have lost the dream.
I have lost...her.
Dammit! I curse the reality of the moment!
She knows, as do I, I will go to her again.
I can not give her up. For she has become
me...and I her.
Until tomorrow...or another day...or another
time...or another world.
It matters not where she is. I shall find her.
For she is my love...and I shall yet again,
go to her.
© Joe Fazio
From:gabriela Charles
sonnet
The End
The day my life End,s
I will go to a beautiful
place where i will meet new people,
I will enjoy the rest of my life,
The day My life Ends I will go and
today is my day
The End.
Robert FloresJr.
Mrs. Basham I am terribly sorry it took this long!!!!!!!!
Please do not fight, for I can not stand it.
"Be quiet we are trying not to fight."
Do not scream at him, he will get scared, quit.
Hey mom and dad please sleep real tight tonight.
Now the sun has risen, how was your day.
Honey, are we through with all this madness.
Your heart at peace is for what I prayed.
Because I don't want any more sadness.
It's good to see that you have changed a lot.
Well, yeah after we had gone through all this.
All the arguing, yelling which we fought.
Maybe cupid with his arrows did miss.
I think maybe our love has a reverse.
For I am having a thought of divorce.
Artist: Victor Del Toro
Type: Sonnet
Source: Written
people tell me things
i don't want to believe
but its hard to think they're not true
i wish you knew
what goes through my mind
hoping you'll remain mine
i hope you know
i don't care what they say
i just close my eyes and pray
for them to go away
Angles In Poverty
No happiness,no sadness, no laughs, no cries
it's just the three lives of children that go by and by.
One Sunday morning Pastor drove down their road,
watching these children age 7,5,and 2 with no clothes.
They all planned it,that next Sunday,he would take them to church,
but when the day came he honked outside and had this sudden erge.
He knocked on the door once, twice, and three times,still no answer.
Barged in the shed and saw them clothless,and bundle togther.
He helped them change, and took off to his worship center.
Sitting in the front pew, clapping, laughing...what a giver.
Then they saw two men walking around with baskets,
seeing the money they didn't have, they started asking.
They all got up, and the oldest ran and took the money bins.
Thinking they were stilling they got on stage...there steps were like a hymn.
The oldest sat on the basket, and looked up to the ceiling.
We all noticed these three kids were stiked by a wounderous feeling.
The oldest one hollered to the enormous church crowd,
"We have nothing to give, if we could we would give you this feeling we've found,
but i am able to give, Lord Jesus Christ my life."
They walked off the stage and out the door, and I swear they had a glowing light.
Posted by Bianca Tamez
epitaph
hear is joe pro buried under ground with his unknown siutcase of money and his weapon of massive distruction.He probably has some narcotics and allot off wierd things like jewrelely a.k.47 hand guns knifes swords bombs and all those things some people say he was the king of the underground, where osama bin ladin was found.
source:mind
author:joepro
sonnet
Sonnet
Poems by Joanna Baillie
NOT love, nor war, nor the tumultuous swell
Of civil conflicts, nor the wrecks of change,
And duty struggling with afflictions strange,
Not these alone inspire the tuneful shell;
But where untroubled peace and concord dwell,
There also is the muse not loth to range,
Watching the blue smoke of the elmy grange,
Skyward ascending from the twilight dell.
Meek aspirations please her lone endeavour,
And sage content and placid melancholy;
She loves to gaze upon a crystal river,
Diaphanous, because it travels slowly:
Soft is the music that would please for ever,
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly
website:
http://www.elook.org/literature/baillie/poems/4045.html
lyric
El Chico Del Apartamento 512
Cada dia es igual
Por mi pasillo
Nuca llego a mi querta
Sin oir el chiflido
De un chavo que me dice
Que me esta esperando
Lo que el debia hacer
Es ir y darse un bano
Y un aburido de detiene otra vez
Y yo le finjo interes
Cuando de pronto sale del ascensor
Es la imagen de mis suenos
El que yo quiero para mi dueno
Coro
El chico del apartamento 512
El que hace a mi pobre corazon alstar
Es a quien le hago carrtas noche y dia
Que no quedo entregarr
El chico del apartamento 512
Es el que me hace tartamuda y mas
es en quen yo pienso y sueno noche y dia
El, solo el
Y un vieejo me invita, chica ven a verme
Y le digo, no me caen lose viejos rabos verdes
Y camino a mi cuarto muy lentamente
Con la esperanzo de verlo
Y cuando sale a caminar
Me saluda con una sonrisa
Que de veras me conquista
(Coro)
Pero hoy por fin me he decidido de veras
Todo mi amor a confesarle
Toco su puerta y se me enchina la piel
Y me conteta una guera
Y mi corazon se quiebra
(Coro)
De veras que senti mi corazon quebrandose
Cuando de repente me pregunto
buscabas a mi hermano?
(Coro)
author:selina
type lirycs publish
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