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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » Poems of how I feel by Tabitha Stout (spicy books to read TXT) 📖

Book online «Poems of how I feel by Tabitha Stout (spicy books to read TXT) 📖». Author Tabitha Stout




The way I feel a lot of times

Take a knife stab me I don’t care,
Take a gun shoot me anywhere,
My life is ruined to my surprise,
All I want to do is just sit back and cry,
I tell myself no one cares,
As I watch and stare at other people, they seem so happy I don’t know why,
But All I really want too do is die,
I am scared too a certain extent,
But than I question myself why I know I am independent,
People observe me as if they care,
But I know they don’t cause I feel like I am not even here,
I try getting better and all I do is get worse,
While I try too be calm picturing riding a horse,
The breeze so cold as it hits my face,
I feel like this still to this day.
I feel free riding fast,
I imagine having a blast,
I am one person never again,
As I live with very little sin,
I am alone and I want too go home, But then I turn around and fall face first on the ground,
Tears flowing out of my eyes,
As I look up too the skies and I ask God am I really alive??
I feel betrayed in a mysterious way,
One that I can not explain,

Hiding my feelings from others
I try digging my way out of my own guilt,
I am one of those people, who hardly become thrilled,
I am nice too others why do they hate me,
I am not the person I want too be,
I can be worse, or I can be better,
But then I am not cool because I don’t wear leather,
I try too hard too fit in everywhere,
I only have two really good friends, (offline)
I try letting them know how I feel,
But I can’t so I show them my feelings that are not real,
Its hard too cry in front of everyone,
So I find a place by myself one where only I know of,
Then I let out my feelings that no one ever heard of, (IN ME)
I always blare my radio too not let people know what I am doing,
Then I show my feelings in a different manner,
To the ones who don’t know I feel like a hammer,
Cold and as hard as a rock,
To the people who don’t understand how I feel.


How I wish everyday could be

I wish with my nose to the tip of my toe's
that everyday could be a beautiful as a big red rose,
the sun big and bright,
the breeze so tight,
a little rain for some joy and no pain,
oh how I wish everyday could be like this,
the summer is to hot, the winter is to cold,
especially for the young, and the old.

Imprint

Publication Date: 09-16-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
I dedicate this too all of the people who feel like me.

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