![]() | i am me
you are three can we be my sweetpea |
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | This is actually a poem my grandmother showed me when I was little, and it means so much to me.
![]() Mother, A friendly word, a friendly smile, Your love is warming me for miles and miles, Days by days, years by years, Your caring heart is following me wherever I go. ![]() |
![]() | so poetic <3
|
![]() | I really like the view
So I’ll give a few Poems I can't do But I'll try for you And try I will And I just can't sit still Not before and until You tell me I'll win I was so sad When I didn’t win last But I’m really not mad While I type on my keypad I wish I could be The one you may see Oh and CamZ You look like queen bee I know I type long Almost like a song But honestly, I can’t stop It’s just keeps going on I really liked this competition! So fun to keep going ![]() ![]() |
![]() | and you are a flower. I lift my leg up, and give you a shower! ![]() |
![]() | henhas wrote: so poetic <3 poems were never my strong side
![]() |
![]() | red or blue
this or that Camzilla, girlll I love your hat ![]() |
![]() | The circle is round it has no end,
That's how long I want to be your friend ![]() ![]() |
![]() | Cats are
like my heart big and fluffy |
![]() | THIS HAIR
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |
![]() | ![]() or There once were a child in spain, who loved to play in the rain. one day he tripped and broke his hip.. now he is in seriously pain |
![]() | if you root yourself
in love and kindness your heart will always bloom |
![]() | Whose heart is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite mournful though. It really is a tale of woe, I watch her frown. I cry hello. She gives her gentle heart a shake, And sobs until the tears she make. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake. The heart is fragile, broken and deep, But she has promises to keep, Until then she shall not sleep. She lies in bed with ducts that weep. She rises from her bitter bed, With thoughts of sadness in her head, She idolises being dead. Facing the day with never ending dread. With thanks to the poet, Robert Frost, for the underlying structure. |
![]() | roses are red
violets are blue stop playing wc go outside touch some grass and shake your ars |
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | in true swiftie fashion
(and because im not poetic enough in any sense to come up with my own) : gold was the color of the leaves when i showed you around centennial park hell was the journy, but it brought me heaven - invisible string |