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Amanda Sant'Anna Jun 2020
How can you read
a history book
With all the blood
on the pages?
...
Mae Jun 2020
Staring at you from a mile
Makes my heartbeat stop for a while
'Cause everytime I see you smile
Imagining myself, walking down the aisle

You are the sun, I'm your flower
I'm the gun, you are the hunter
I guess we're meant to be together
But that 'guess' will always be a 'wish' forever

I know we can never be a lover,
'Cause you're the book's main character.
I do love to read books and imagine I'm with the character a love.
Marya0324 May 2020
I'm an unknown book on a shelf
That one forgets to treat with care
Passed around among many people,
Alas! I've aged with wear and tear.

I don't recall to whom I belonged
Who once penned my words in fading ink
I'm not as strong as I used to be
I'm only a novel- I can't think.

I'm looking for a gentle owner
Who enjoys reading without pretense,
Keeping me safe, worn pages intact,
The one who'll cherish my existence.
sanchit mehta May 2020
What does the Quran say, to love,
but not to hate,
the people come on earth according to his will,
no one has the right to make them pay,
for their sins.
self destruction, mass collapse, this is not what Quran teaches us, it teaches us to love,
but not to hate,
the path taken by one, cannot define a group,
as all they want is peace, i know we want too.
a man goes so deep trying to achieve his Allah,
so unknowingly he becomes blind in his path,
and creates a deadly scar,
Quran doesnt teach us that,
i say Quran is in everyone's heart and in brain,
as for it teaches us to love but not to hate.
so i am not a muslim! but first of all i am a human!so i dedicate this poem to all my muslim bros and sis on this day of EID and hope that you all have a prosperous life ahead. Happy Eid! and yeah i have made an insta acc biohazard_poems  i will often post poems! do support and follow!
Debbie Stevens Oct 2017
All my life I was lost and clueless,
growing up with no filter and foolishness.
With no family to love and care for me,
I don't know how they could leave and betray me.

No eyes focused on me because of my low I.Q,
my life has changed because of the help from a few.
With scientists helping me to become smart,
I am now realizing my life from the start.

All hopes come crashing down,
I'm going back to looking like a clown.
It was great while it lasted,
all I want to say is don't take life for granted.
I wrote this poem in relation to the book "Flowers for Algernon" as an assignment for my english class.
Nina May 2020
i'll write a book
about my life with you
the things i loved
from A to Z
i'll write about you
about the time
you lit my life up
the times
you gave me butterflies
and at the end of the book
i'll write about the time
you broke my heart
and
turned me into an author
My love is misunderstood
Like a book that has never been read
Yet still kept on shelf
With a layer of passion dust
Blue Poem, Blue Secret

By the celestial lights of heaven as i walked on the leaves of my notebook, i see my wishes of how i want to shoe and how to walk without fear by the same brands of my feet for this blue book of awakening, on collisioning by dreams of me self-book book, where i can read me in peace without pointing out the perfection of the magnanimus know, think and reflect.

After cutting a piece of cake and taking it with my hand, i could be looking for sowing it and not have anxiety of the desire of excitement more than sugging in my fingers to take the next snack. it is that i will begin with this extract of a secret book dipped with almibar light at the ends of the blue enchanted forest …

I woke up early with the leaves on my shoulders and my mouth painted blue. mark the same footprints when i first started taking my first steps as a child. travel to prague on a sunny sunday when the clouds degraded other shades making you think of drinking and eating the delights of the prague forest. i always felt that the secrets of the footsteps of the leaves and their secrets walked through the forests of southern chile. to supraculture forestry and vegetatively reuphols its soils. The owners of the forest and princes of the bushes travel large areas to complement the soils of southern chile. full volcanic formica goal and indigenous species will bring the morning mists to paint the forests blue in blue in the first of the areas , acquired three years ago, small deciduous trees already appear among the conifers: beech, ash and maples that grew from seeds brought by the wind. the nascent native forest is also more joyous because its variety attracts birds.

Trees grow slowly and that is why generations to come will fully enjoy the native preservation forests that are beginning to emerge in the czech republic. ****** forest of boubín, the current ecological activists had in the 19th century a predecessor: the forester josef john. thanks to his initiative, the best-known ****** forest in bohemia has been conserved, that of boubín, which extends on the southern ***** of the mountain of the same name, located in the sierra de sumava, in the south-west of the czech republic.

I have risen from the inn in boubin, leaving my blue marks and exuding magenta airs of the tinting of the roofs and monuments that are dressed by these organic fabrics of the great avenues. i walked with my trembling hands to leaf through the opening ****** texts of my review of a great secret that marks the vision of the forest and its literary benefactor.

Semantics of the immunology feeling of the verb made repentance .  There were the timid words in a round courting the shadows of the timid trees with their shadow that each one of their resins ... were their noble attentions of those who discolor their face from red to blue, that falls from infinity confusing with the very genetics of the ancient mountain spreading resin cream to soften its crust herds of the Universal Uniforest .

THE  FEELING  RECEDES  DOES  NOT  ADVANCE, THE TEARS WEIGH  LESS  WHEN  IT  COMES  OUT  AND  FALLS ...

the feeling recedes does not advance, the tears weigh less when it comes out and falls ..

The words haunt, they kneel and they murmur licentious ideas, hardened forest fruits dance round with their roots, they cross beyond where the giant demon treads with its steel feet and its guillotines with red steel teeth. They dance in a Rondinella; A molecule of crystalline water that washes its root feet to walk on the icy wind singing with its aquiline voice beyond the cold of the boreal. The World dances mute and also eloquent when it manages to survive, it lives falling without stopping to reach the end of the Rondinella Dance to lay its body in the wise humus of the brave of God's green continent.

to be continued...
Main beggining
Maria Mitea May 2020
I feel
the burn in my chest,
as the sunny dream chops its edges
I run happy warming up in La vita è bella,
while the soles of my feet are burning
into the dark earth. Who cares? only
into the dark earth roots grow,
all lilac is still there at the Moscow Metro, while illusion succumbs to temptation running faster and harder,
the underworld has a life of its own,
a life of greater depth and purity, while
my eyes touch the cold striking murals, and
the book falls on the
Whisper
"The book.." is all knowledge we humans created and possess, and that still doesn't answer our big questions.                                                            
"Whisper" is the invisible reality;  that which is present but overlooked, obvious but not seen with an opened eye, the mystic, the soul, the spirit, inspiration, imagination, desire, passion, inner drive, ...
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