I LOVE to write, but am I good at it? I have very strong emotions at times, and let them out through poetry. People I know tell me my poetry is wonderful, but I have doubts, are they just being nice because they love me? Here's a few poems I have written, please be honest but not rude.
Insignificance
The sun shines,
The world goes on.
Who cares about my little life?
Insignifigant, that's what I am.
My friends love me,
But who really cares?
Then who cared about Abe Lincoln?
I suppose everyone is insignificant...
But all those little people weave to form the world.
Is the Earth a quilt?
Some patches are bigger then others,
But God doesn't care.
Live life,
Challenge yourself.
Be yourself.
That's what they all say.
But in truth, why can't you live?
Living and being are different.
I want to become myself,
Not live just another life.
Do something with my insignifigence.
******************************...
Too Late
Life goes by so quickly,
We must live it.
Before we discover it has passed through our fingertips,
Then it will be too late to live and to love and to learn.
2006-08-24
02:45:07
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11 answers
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~S~ is for Stephanie!
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Remember
Life goes by so unbelievably fast,
I am not sure what to savor and what to let fly by.
We all change so much,
I feel as if I don’t know those I love with all my heart.
Life speeds far too fast,
I blink and it is moving already.
Time is unforgiving,
All of us are separated by it’s passing.
We all turn over yearbooks,
And remember as if it were yesterday.
And laugh and cry at the haunting memories,
That we hold on to get through life.
We say, “remember when…”,
And crack up while wishing we were there again.
We think back and wonder how it all fell away so quickly,
How we didn’t see the unknown future looming ahead.
We remember how life was and never will be again,
Because life, by nature, is too quick for it’s own good.
We read those messages as if from another time,
As though the sacred writings weren’t written for us.
So we remember and cherish,
But wish it were still here.
More then a memory,
Or a signature in a yearbook.
2006-08-24
02:45:37 ·
update #1
We try so hard to cling to the past,
When really all we have is the present and the future.
As we remember, we remark at the unfairness,
Of life, of time, not enough of it.
The memories haunt us,
We want so badly for it to stay as it is, as it was.
But that can’t happen,
So we remember, with sorrow, joy, and each other.
2006-08-24
02:45:59 ·
update #2