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I was a bird flying highSaw a valley full of greenBut the people living full of greedAngry and having lustHaving no mercy or a quality bestFlying again reached a cityvery glamour with running carsPeople were happy sitting in barsBut telling each
We aren't always gloomy.
I come from an Old Farmhouse and Woods that the 6 of us ran through for 7 acres I come from Raspberry bushes, Tall oak trees and tapping Maples in the Fall
Closed my eyes, saw the whole world. Opened my eyes, saw nothing.
It hurt to be alone So I smiled and talked Never thinking on my own Being told it’s ok to be laughed at And be the clown of my home. I didn’t know why I was told “I hate you”
It hurt to be alone So I smiled and talked Never thinking on my own Being told it’s ok to be laughed at And be the clown of my home. I didn’t know why I was told “I hate you”
I used to dream in the world in my head, let my imagination take flight as the buildings went by. I could dream up wild elephants from Africa, or starships from space
They kept asking for it Over and over My stupid phone Which is mine, by the way, And I was so nearly fatally horrifically close to snapping In half That I decided we should play a game.
are you afraid of me or ? do i scare you? because trust me if you are i'd be so disappointed i'll sleep knowing that i evoked the wrong feelings
I wonder about things beyond our atmosphere But sadly, gravity demands that I must stay here I wonder about the many phenomenons that I can’t comprehend
I walk on the dark moors and dance with the wolves. I don't want to go home, where reality rules. my fingers are crossed. a sword in my hand. my soul will fight, to stay in this land.
He had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but the universe on his mind.
He loves me he loves me not, he loves me he loves me not Highschool relationship drama. He looks into your eyes making those restless butterflies come alive.
Before my house’s basement was finished, It was a barren concrete playground, For my imagination to mold. Silver lined walls got punctured and distorted,
The moon shines bright in a sky full of lost stars Cold evenings are dark driving in cars My dreams are sweet sometimes, but in my nightmares, I'm alone I sleep until the monsters go home
Thoughts bleeding in my head. Idea's screaming, in my mind. A single pen, in my hand. The only paper, I could find. Unused ink, written words unsaid. Inspiration,
Many can say that Poetry is a simple concept However, they probably don’t understand that it’s difficult to create a piece of literature with technique, symbolism, and depth
water wraps around my legs sticky with salt and bone numbing wisdom my fingertips stroke murky clouds billowing across the sea’s glass
They taunt me at night I sleep with a light My fingers curl underneath And I tuck in my feet I shiver and quiver I can see the moon glow silver I hide my head And curl up in bed
Diving into a world unlike any known. You delve through with no known limits. A place that you can call your own. No fear or concern to withhold my words. Gazing at the beauty that only I can create
The little girl Could just not sleep Because her thoughts Were way too deep Her mind had gone Out for a stroll And fallen down
I will never know for sure where the falling stars fall, Or where the black hole ends; I can never be for sure if magic exists Or if our lives are all pretend.
I will never know for sure where the falling stars fall, Or where the black hole ends; I can never be for sure if magic exists Or if our lives are all pretend.
What worlds lie behind our reflection What variegated beings dance among our fate What truth is there in resurection What love lies amidst delphic hate
Imagine a world without hurt, Without pain, loss, or suffering, A world where animals talk and people don’t, In this world, My world,
O, for my sole comfort in the night, Yet it is, at times, the one that causes me the fright. Nevertheless, it is my only solace when I am afraid;
To my future self to reflect upon, All these thoughts, all these dreams, going through my mind. Don’t you hate that you can never find the right one when you need it,
We are all hidden inside Man’s inculcated exhaust; They teach us a planned life, to which we comply. Our children’s world (with age) turns to a desert, dry.
In our conversations in my head, I always know exactly what to say I always know exactly what you'd say I always know exactly what to do But this is a script no one is following Not even me.
I’m a pirate. No, I’m a teacher. “Okay Teddy, turn to page 4 of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.” “What's that teddy? There's something outside my door? A creepy Creature?”
it is easy to love you in the fantasy i’ve formed in my mind, for under the protection of my imagination, we are together. we are perfect. we are infinite.
Dear Me, I know it hurts right now, The pain in your eyes grow as you look up at me and ask,"how?" One more step I say, You stand slowly and continue on towards nowhere,
Traveled through time, Not to pick the dime, But to only tell a story, Will it make thy glory ? If only one listens, It's not imaginary, For everything I say,
We're holding hands I cling on to you, mine to keep. And I know you're not leaving Because of the way you're Holding on to me Like I'm someone too precious To let go off.
Whatever happened to that scent That first caught me on to you After a while, it turned toxic An its killing me But I endure it, just to be with you And hope it was my IMAGINATION.
I REMEMBER A TIME WHEN I TOOK A FLIGHT OF FANTASY TO WONDERLAND ON THE PLANE CALLED CREATIVITY.
Have you ever seen the light of day? Have you ever felt the stars? Have you ever spoke to Orion’s Belt? Or just admire him from afar? Have you ever laughed with the sun’s sweet glow?
Traveller [ Inspired by the story "Going Places" by A. R. Barton ]
Did you ever imagine That luminous smile you wear around lips, Consummate charm and glow on face – As if you have been in samadhi for Ages, As if you are an angel-philosopher –
The imagined come just as the average, the souls escape from the lives of the lavish, cinderella files her taxes, Snow White's candles melt of waxes, the bustling dwarves travel to work,
The cavernous souls of my dreams Trickle out in tiny streams. They seep into my mind, Some of them not so kind. They invade, destroy, shatter,
Do you remember? How we used to play pretend? And giggle and laugh Until the day's end? Do you remember? The many adventures we took Together as partners, With every step, the earth shook
It may not always be easy, it may not always seem right but the path to higher consciousness is always in plain view, in clear sight It is of course the path less traveled by,
I am unstoppable, limitless, unbeatable...ME I can do what I want, and I want to be...ME Everything inspires me, nothing ever tires me I am constantly discovering the new that I am, have become, am about to be
The eyes are closed, Splashing colors of many faces, Red and green and blue, Turns into violet and lime and light sky,
I’d like to get lost in my dreams If only they weren’t so horrendous Yet nothing can be as it seems My mind often teems With thoughts so stupendous
Take a trip with me to lands unheard of Through hidden passages, secret doors, and unknown chambers deep within my mind All you need is your imagination so leave everything behind
Do you know about his dimpled cheeks, His crooked grin, or his chocolate gaze that dare matches yours, Do you know he calls me baby, just like you did,
Welcome to the wonderful world of extraneous thoughts and of consistent wonder. Of staring off into space and dreaming in class of other classes. Welcome to the dreamland.
I wonder if somewhere There's a respository of dreams Maybe I could go there And find some of them again Spiraling twists of hope The nonexistent roof of imagination
My world is empty my world is full my world is dark and harsh but not cruel my world is old my world is new my world is mine only wish i could show it to you my world is fast
Tell me a story. It can be about anything, as long as it’s yours. There’s no limit to what you can say or do or see
I possess a very active mind full of ideas. All hotter than fresh quesadillas yet more tasteful than plain tortillas. Sometimes there are too many for me to even keep. Occasionally they impair my ability to sleep.
Mysterious, Unusual, and Now Known. T'was Dark and Morbid With No Mercy Shown. Poor, Poor, Poe. Found in A Gutter Outside A Bar.
The floods push and coax others just go with the flow. But not I. Sometimes I drift towards shore, I prefer swimming straight for the shore, And then, I'm in another place. No swimming with routine,
I am a lost boy, From Neverland, Never growing up, And running from, Captain Hook. Never wanna leave, Wanna stay right here, Flying 'round the woods with, Peter Pan.
Compared to the expectation of my dreams, And the flight of my imagination, It seems still, This space I possess, My 17th year of life. I send a quake towards my destiny,
I wonder how one can live in two worlds I pretend to speak, to grow, to live in one I want to share it with the other
Closed. There's a dream in my head and it's making me Ill. Swimming, These aren't my thoughts. I wouldn't couldn't never would do that. But I did. Dreams
I sat in my bath and wondered about how sad is the woman who has never taken a hot bubble bath late at night and has never caught herself dozing off to the aroma of lavender?
The First, his bones creak. The kick of his artillery jolts his body And he moves with it, a jerky dance that goes unnoticed As the air is filled with the sound of metal and collisions –
In the beginning, there was a moment of silent screams. Everyone wanted me to say the right things. Everything wanted me to act the right way. When words first stained my eyes and ears, life finally began.
Bell Glass I try to cross the thresholdsI try to shovel poetry in glass bottles eaten by the seaSome BellJar note washed ashore,some ancient hand had written
Tick. The throbbing pain of my mind casts me aside from a world unknown to me, a world void of boundaries. I throw my hands over my head,
They chained me to my walls, The metal pieces well-hidden underneath my decorative dress. I lived in a prison bedecked with flowers and jewels. They exclaimed “what a palace fit for a princess”
Art lets me release my pent-up feelings, Lets me take out my frustrations, Lets me escape my malicious thoughts. I need expression to clear my mind. No other thing could replace the effects that
Imagine. The sand beneath your feet is not sand, but the pores on a giant’s face. You walk on his cheeks and eyes and you reach an ear, a cove nestled beneath a bed of seasick rocks.
Dreams, Floating along the fabric of my mind, treading into ideas and thoughts. Without these thoughts, how could I live? Nothing can be done without a dream.
Imagination As endless as an universe but as dark as a black hole It’s there in my dreams but gone when I’m awake There is a jubilant side but also a melancholy side
My imagination chauffeurs my sensation. Safely to where? I don’t care. Afar from my fears, and my worthless tears. Keeping my thoughts from my battles fought. In the rain to ease the pain.
Being alone can be a pain Have to find a way to stay sane To grasp that inner kid sensation You have to have a powerful imagination
To what do we owe The pleasure that surrounds us Every second of our lives Something we would not give a second thought Imagination Without it We would have nothing I would have nothing
I admit I am doing this for the scholarship, But also do realize that I am doing this for me to. Stranded on an island, the only thing I need… And this is the part where you listen carefully…
Albert Eintsten puts it in the best possible way: "Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire
For you,I'd hand the sun over on a silver platterB r i g h t and a i r y,Enveloping you in warming rays of goldI'd compliment the way it shaped your face-Silhouetting the bones beneath the surface
Notice all the Space up there Swirling galaxies, shooting stars Black holes bending light Gravity holding us all down As humans fight each other Over the electron of an atom Which is our Earth
Click Adjust my bow tie.Put on a façade of fanciness.I love the Met.Or is it Carnegie?Kimmel Center?Honestly can't tellSounds the same to me. Click
Although stranded I may not be alone with the heart of a daydreamer and a handful of stars.
A soft breeze rolls across The hills of my aunt's property. Wheat nearly ready to harvest As the Summer quickly draws to close. Moonlight pours from a cloudless night sky Onto a canvas of stalks -
The rhythm. The vibration. The sweet sense of passion. The ability to interpret emotion. All the minor falls and the major lifts have a direct connection. For with it comes peace, encouragement,
On the shores of here and gone, a never ending line sunlight shining off her hair and dancing off her eyes. Palm trees sway in seafoam green,
Dragging along Desolation Only to feel deserted From the company not present. Yet, This defiant mind Is not lonely.
Dreams They're what keep us thinking Good and badBeautiful and ugly We need the imaginationof aliensof spaceof becoming a princessor queen of Marsand solving world hunger
what a dismaywe were trying to find the pieces to the puzzle lets sit cris cross apple sauce and find a new game to playthis one was kind of annoying so we found a new sedative it sorta messed with our heads and we began to feed on selfishness ins
Like vines we are entagled in a forever dance, in which you know I will take the lead. But yet- you still take over me, consume me with thoughts that transport me to a world you know would suit me.
"I call out Is no one there? The imagination Of the atmosphere I called out My memories stare The past and present Of ones held dear Icalled out But not in fear
Must I be patient for my own demise? I do not know what is out there, beyond crests of time, pillows of snow & schemes of wonder. Lust towards unknown and unheard of realities.
Dreams too far, too far to reach Floating in mid air Not contain, not planned Scattered they are Far too bland
The hand holds A pencil The pencil spills Into the paper The paper ripples Into the ocean The ocean pours Into a cup The cup cracks Into glass The glass scatters
IMAGINATION: by Paul Gray Imagine life were but a dreamImagine in your heartImagine how this life would seemIf Knowing from the start
"Where are you?" Under a desk Hiding from whatever may be out. Flying fedoras, Explosive evergreens,
People who know me know I like to sleep To me it’s not about the relaxation, It’s about the dreams –that are so sweet. I love to dream I could be a graceful dancer Or find the cure for cancer
Cavern. Plic. An endless cavern. Plic. Plic. Upon first glance, there is only darkness. Plic. Plic. But to those who wait... To those who listen Plic.
And it was as if All of my dreams Were finally coming true And reality.. Reality was finally a thing to look forward to Fire began to burn In the pitts Of my stomach And im anxious
Life forgot my passion there And handed me the key; For what possesses better snare Of curiosity? The key, ornate with golden leaves And “Carpe Diem” divine,
When you flew away from meIn vain, I slaved to get you backMy life was dull and grey again, the charms of Red and White were no more around;You flew so fast that you revved up to speed of light
A mountain to space? What a wonderful place! Though the altitude is quite unbearable. A mountain to space brings a smile to my face when I begin to doubt the impossible.
from the top of the mountain to the depth of the sea, from the lonely desert road to the shade of the tree,
I wasn't the only one playing dress-up I ventured into my mother's closet And entered a new world
Magical nights; the Milky Way, This is where I want to stay; In a place where you fall asleep To the rhythm of falling raindrops and counting sheep. Where you can catch the stars,
Compassion, Imagine Compassion
I am an escape artist
Seeing the sunrise peak from behind the city skyline The mirror image in the soft waves below Feeling the the sun's warmth brush against the back of my neck During a beautiful winter day
A young boy studies pre-med to become a doctor, he said Back hunched over facts punched in his mind, courses never too kind That was once a dream of white coats and stethoscopes
Sometimes when I'm eating I pretend I'm a dinosaur
A pearl, Dipped in love and frosted with perfection,
The pen is my compass The paper my sail They take me to new places On a see of words and dreams
In my fantasy I can do anythingI dream, I fly, and soar through the skyThat twinkles with the mesmerising stars of the universe
My imagination is my haven, I have travled around the world without leaving my bed, i can't belive all of this power is just stored in my head.
I am creative and laidback I wonder about the bundle of variations called the multiverse I hear the cackles of the last Shifkin before it engulfs its prey in one glup
Imagination Where would i be without it One can imagine
In a world that is slowly crumbling i find myself tumbling I look above and I see the sky for what it is an endless canvas in which our imagination is set free to roam every corner of our minds.
I see visions. Visions of people who don't exist. They come to me all at once,
What is wrong with a world
I don't know where you live, but I live somewhere mystic. Its beauty is beyond words, it's almost unrealistic.
I am a young woman with a thirst for an educaiton The one with a mind Flowing! Flowing with creativity. The writer who's goal is to share this power; The power that is imagination! That's me!
Imagine that the Golden Gate Bridge has skin and bones, walks among us as the one true San Franciscan He knows all the secrets of the city
She is alive
With wings on her feet and sun filled clouds in her mind The little girl smiled so the flowers bloomed And the pixies came out to play Nightingales sang and crickets played Shy gnomes giggled
It is a place where nobody speaks
Walking on the tightrope between two worlds, Reality and fiction never seem to agree. However for some it shapes a balance, Our ability to understand the power both sides hold.
Indeed imagination is inundated inside interminable ideas, Pouring purposes, poetry-pondering pages pertaining panegyric phrases, Entrapped, effortlessly entombed - ears eternally earning effrontery.
Two cartoony tigers, Friends for life, Who live in a house That bounces all night. Two giants, Father and son. One smart, One dumb, One is mean, One is bullied. A pine tree,
How I miss the olden days
A playful conversation Interrupted By an unexpected call: Hello? I tense with panic As the voice on the other end Breathlessly exudes hysteria Searching for the keys to my car
It’s tempting, to gaze upon the night sky and see only crisp starlight, juxtaposed with a firm sheet of outer space. But most would know that soon,
The free imagination of a child Broken down they’re much too wildly minded Teenager’s angst causes them to get riled Shadows rolls in a cloud, all is blinded
The world is a canvas And nature is the painting All the colors flow together To create a beautiful picture The location determines the temperature While the seasons pick the colors
Out there floating in the sky
The world is light and color and shape; The air, a silent voice.
It's the gaurana, the crickets, the dust bunnies gaurding curtains, gates to a kingdom of ants on a windowsill. It's the tangled, ragged ropes, once daisy chains with wide, flattened faces
Imagination is what keeps me inspired My brain is like a vacuum Drawing in the dreams The fantasies I create It keeps me writing Reading Performing Designing
Let me list the things that are on my mind The FEAR is gone and so is the strife
I walk along a field of grey
I would rather fall into a pit
I flew upon the fragrant wings
The Magic is gone, I said As I looked up at the kingdom Tiered like a cake with its blue and white frosting I stood there, I stared The magic no longer lived there Pavement painted black
Imagine the moon explodes into a firework. Imagine the sun falls to ashes. Imagine this world as if it weren/t what it seemed. Create the beauty from what you're given, and make it your own.
Under roofs, birds chattered youth
The status quo declares that fantasy is the realm of lunatics and children
The mind, body, and soulAre explorations on their own Humanity is rich in curiosity And our livelihoods come in all shapes and forms Only ten percent of our mind has been achieved
We took to a tent family of gypsies shadows in the forest, kept from view. We escaped the sunrise, the strangers, the shotguns, the ship’s crew.
As the sun rises and my mind awakes The thoughts start cooking and actions take place They digest down, through my body they go, wanting more Feeling limited because I want to do more
It's normal to have thoughts, ideas, questions. But is it normal to have an imagination? To let it wander so far into dreamlands that you'll wake up hours later not knowing where you are? Or what you're doing?
Smells like Teen SpiritWashing up on the shoreTangled in sins, drums that beat no more Feels blueReaching into my chestReleasing my heart from my breast
i'm gonna polish It 2 a solar flame2 rekindle my subconcious chariotthat bears my virgin senses from:
The Treehouse Wooden beams support, surround. Ladder, crow's nest, food abounds, Kitchen, rooms, high seas are found. Magic beings to work her charm,
Focus. Stop. Think. Escape. The World fades. I implode. A sensory overload, only within the mind The place where privacy is unconditional No cost; not a dime My sweet escape
My sanity hangs in the balance as I write. I fill the page with a world born of darkness and light. Of a universe centered at the very tips of my fingers. It flows from my mind in smooth streams of conciousness
I reach into the shadows and my hand touches your face, Every single line of yours my fingers pretend to trace, I wonder - could this torture last forever? My love, I'm seeking you in shadows,
As my life passed me by,
We drift away to Narnia in our sleep, if only to gain some solace from the dreadful company we keep. In spite of the futility of it, we crave and thrive within the vicinity of our creation.
like the flower, so blooms inspiration. roses only grow from fertile clay... thoughts, from a fecund imagination. insights spring from fruitful contemplation while new buds grow with the sun's warm rays.
I've got so many of you. Many different colors. From red to green, Black and blue. I've got lots of you. You are so smooth. And, you seem so nice. You are like my best friend,
Where is the elixir from the white budding wonderland of your mind? Let me look into the gateway of your gold encrusted eyes and project me, reject me
Create, created This is how I think Imagine, design, plan, do Thoughts then become things
Swords and Soldiers Magic and Mages Great Drakes of the Skies Heroes made famous through the Ages My world was born many years ago When it had been ten years when I was born
Whenever I dream, I create some crazy things. The light bulb lights up.
Mr. Imagination stands at the top of the mountain. He lives among the pastel clouds, who smile each time he acknowledges them. A rainbow bridges the clouds together
To read words, Is to take in a brand new world
When I was a little girl, the world couldn't contain my imagination. I was the one who would look at the moon and wonder what it would look like, how brightly it would shine, if it was twice as big.
Sometimes, in times when I find myself in need of it; I stand, or sit, or lay, just... staring. Staring at the walls, the ceiling, the floor,
First its food then it's sleep It says now and then says later First its love then it's hate Imagine home and then realize your far away Sometimes people lose me but im still here
I don’t know how I’m supposed to live in the real world When the ones in my head are perfect and this one is so far from it
So it's the eve of my departure back to school and my 8 year old sister Emily is playing in the rock pile in the front yard She's the cutest little girl in the world
Questions everyday What you're how old? How did you even get here, your a baby? Omg! You're a baby, my little sister/brother is your age. You should not be here, go back to highschool where you belong.
My imagination glows A pulsing radiance Tempting the average soul Like flies to a light It burns bright in me A candle of creativity So vibrant, so strong
Greetings stranger, I am from the O.s. galaxy; many aliens have died in futile attempts to battle. Welcome to my mind, the requiem of of reality.
There I was, yet there I wasn'tFor they neither saw me or knew where I hidThe shadow's hostage; the dustmite's captiveI feared "I'm forgotten" despite what I didAlas, they still call me
Cartoons play on the screens The master minds behind the scenes Is who I will achive to be.
Seen Through Unseen Glass Fogged by judgment Little see the truth Eyes of one Find many beautiful creations
Reality is like a fr
The stars; so far yet so near. Though impossible, I can feel their soft whispers through the night. Rippling in my ear, each has a story to tell, A story of the beginning, the now, and the end.
I sit and I stare intense sunlight fires through the slits of my squinted lids Like blinds I shutter out the most of it, and trickling down are little specks of dust Closer I look
Entranced It`s light, so bright I can see it on this night In pain, not yet
Nothing happens unless first we dream. And indeed I did. I dreamt, I hoped, I wished upon a star, And I prayed. I called out for mercy And begged on my knees, Crying for some sanity to emerge.
upon a dandilion i blew its seeds floaten soflty on a breeze so true and the wish that engulfed my heart and my soul was a wish that had something to do with you that night i saw a shooting star
My daughter when you sleep
Once upon a time I was living so carefree,
The white Hills and Valleys, All the Grooves and Notches, Are spread Clear Before Your eye. The same white all Around you. Then a Brown river
it powers the writer to write one more line it inspires the muscian to play one more time it rages the soldier to take that front it focuses the athlete
As I lay outside on the trampoline in the cool morning air
i can't think But i can hear music. It penetrates my soul. Symphonies rise, Beethoven listens to my jumbled shattered broken brain. Sometimes
But who's going to love meyou only write once So make these words count but When all tears are wiped awaywhen all the scars are fadingwhen the wounds are healing You only write once
Hearing your shallow footsteps walk deeper and deeper in the slums of your mind. where everything goes.
I shudder as my foot is shaken from the sweet dreams I endured as I slept A beautiful, peaceful, loving Mexican American girl waking up to her hardworking father’s sweet words “Wake up Baby”
This is her prison cell These walls are her hell, Making her go crazy, Telling her maybe, This life of bitterness,
A puff of steam swirls above the engine as the piercing whistle blows "ALL ABOAD!" the conductor cries Then the lumbering crowds shuffle onto the locomotive, each person seating themselves to their own rows.
I have nine scars on my hand I am a hard working man Or at least i thought Until I met that girl named Jazz She work two jobs and go to class Party's hard and never crash
Starting a new chapter every morning of my life I seek improvement, reverence and connectivity MY LIFE! I walk on thin ice made of doubt...
You don't own me.. My past is dead. It holds no meaning What happened happened. I need to be free of it; I need to believe in feelings that are true, That are beautiful, that are real.
What is it like to be her? Never sure of what to do; Unsure of every decision How to describe her? Fickle, Fickle, Fickle She can never seem to stick to one path
Second Star to the right Past Big Ben Where you must go Is what I'm told It's what I've heard but where to is my concern My last thought b- before I fell Wishing
The future is unknown to anyone. All we can hope for is the best, Until this short life is done. Blue, brown, hazel eyes of all earthly guest
We have ceased the pursuit of knowledge In turn clipping the wings of imagination And violently stunting the growth of creativity We have given in to the monotonous drawl
They say imagination fuels the soul, feeds the mind. It is the dream-world stage where you are lost for hours, a kaleidoscope of ideas meshed together. One day that medly of mixtures
Yeah, I'm white Never Been in a fight But my dream is to knock out some lights Talkin' 'bout dreams, one-a mine's to be free Ya see, my parents lock me down with a key Yo, little do you know about me
Dear Teachers, Where did all your passion go? Your will to make a student know? To know the joy, the thrill of life? Of piercing ignorance, with a mind like a knife? Why the monotone?
I gather myself once again I hope that one day we will walk hand in hand my love for you is fading each day but don't forget I still care about you in every way This feeling that you leave me with when you leave
Wishes after another, every star I see, every star that makes me believe, is a leaf on a tree. Ready to take sail with the wooshes of a wind Undeveloped or maybe impossible.
If I were to be a ghost, she said, I would fly and fly and fly and fly. To the the land of dreams, where the final flower still stands.
Imagination, set me free Take me far from here Set me high up in a tree Give me the chance to disappear I’m going to swim across the sea I wanna fly high off the ground
Why am I always the one to get hurt?Does pain have no compassion?Let the fierceness of the stormCalm downCause the waves keep pushing meAway from life and reality
The strokes of life burn within my paper Seeping through the lines Creating a sunder for the reaper Those creases in your brow
I like to let my imagination run wilder with every darker shade of the night sky, as the sunset melts away onto the other side of the world, like sherbet ice-cream left on the counter for too long.
Cloud Poem The beauty and whimsy of nature’s irony we lay on our backs on this sunflower dotted hill the pond next to us smells of fresh spring and
Struggling to be unique, Then in return I get critiqued, Thinking outside the box. But limited as the clock ticktocks. Trying to discover a better way, But your emotion is truly grey.
The sweet reverie of a little girl in a Cinderella dress Does not hold a demise For no person shall attempt to withhold her She has imagination creativity innocence virtue Let her twirl
To be considered great at something, you need experience To be considered smart about something, you need experience To be considered successful with something, you need experience.
Blue Skies Blue goodbyes But don't fret we've still got plenty yet we'll throw a plane and fly a ball Now lets all ride the Hopisticall He's blue and red and furry all over
In our hearts are hopes and dreamsonly to be replaced by lies and screams.They ponder away so silent and cold,wishing they could be thought of and retold.
I walk through the empty room, cold and scared. It is dark in the room, but not the door. Underneath it shines a light that is glared. Its brightness is something not to ignore.
Not every day do you see a place like this Some call it a hole, others an abyss It appears to be a gateway to Hell Those who fall into it have a story to tell
Welcome to America! Where the image of women being depicted in submission Is easily found in magazines and search engines. The mask put on comes off before the morning,
What do you see in front of you— A white wall, or maybe even off-white plaster? Or should I paraphrase, and repeat myself In a matter so that you would understand more clearly
In the world of your imagination Everything is your creation You can make a cat fly to the sun You can come up with a silly pun The grass can be grey and the sky can be red
Soft, fluffy, white. / I cannot reach. / One day I might. / Anything, everything, all. / They're what you wish. / They let you fall into the soft blankets of peace. / Breathe, smile, let go. / Dare to imagine. / They'll put on a show.
From when children of the 90's are exposed to the world of fantasy, With wild imagination and creativity that sores beyond a lie. That first glance we believe we could fly,
“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming,” That’s what I tell my son.A dream can make a day less dreary and keep an old soul young
Imagination is a place, completely up to you, You can live in a tall brick house, or sleep in an old shoe. You can make an entire world, or maybe just a street,
Lights bursting, sounds blaring, creatures form from nothing. A world is created, a story is made, and things begin to make a little more sense. What doesn't make sense is this, why am I here in my made up world?
A dusty old book in a library is no longer picked up It sits patiently waiting for the next hand to reach out and grab it A curious mind walks by, makes a stop, and gives the cover a chance
The scratches on the papers are nonsensical to me. If there's only one set answer, you see, With that, you could fail indefinitely. Math..numbers, they never cease to inspire me.
What if you could evaporate in the sky And drift freely along the twists and turns of the winds current Travel miles upon miles over land Showering them with your condensed vapor
To write, is to express one’s self through words rather than actions.To write, is to speak out loud without really speaking.To write, is to release… everything.
If you've ever woken up inside a dream, you already know why I write. If you've ever screamed "feel-words" at the clouds which lie low, you already know why I write
Children stand tall with minds unpoisoned to the lack of reason we reflect They carry the powers on their shoulders that we long burried, that we reject As they grow, they change, become unbalanced and confused
bounding on the river, while I had my thoughts about "Where I Lived, and What I Lived For" a summer and a winter life; its fogs from frosts in the spring,
With this paper and pen I turn my pain into an artistic expressive manifestation Thoughts strewn across the membrane of each cell That identify as my being
Your impression That the world will harbor the Audacity to sever limbs from the whole truth Are gravely mistaken. From now on, the whole truth, and nothing less! And in times of future toil,
I am a writer. Who is writing a poem. Words flow, but is a river made? A river flows but were any words made? I write and write and write and write But does that always mean I'm right?
A voice inside a soulThe emotion, the strength, the hidden confidence That sometimes never releases; or is trapped on paper By the pen that squeezes out the voice onto a sheet ...Then another sheet, another sheet!It becomes journal of dreams we wa
The familiar thwack of shoulder pads colliding filled the air. My heart pounded from the run over. My eyes searched for him on the field. Then I saw the familiar skinny, much too pale limbs,
Ideas, Jumbled in my head, pulsating, spinning, swirling I look at the blank document, white space Music lightly decorating the room Fingertips tingling, a quick impulsive burst of energy thrust onto the screen
There are days that I findI do not identify with the me thatreflects in the sight of others.Lost in my subliminal mind,when ink spills and pen is broken,my quiet tongue is the ripple
The way you smile at me is intoxicating. So much so, that every moment I look at you is degrading. Your spirit is like a two-edged sword. It can cut through my mind when I'm bored. I have so many desires
Rain Sweetly, the rain falls on my yearning face. Softly, it tumbles and fills the air. Who can stop this gentle waterfall?
I was lost for an hour, while nothing was sour. I was a princess, never in a mess, I met my prince, it wasn't a cinch. We danced and sang, until the midnight bang. The hour was blissful,
"Don't do that" a common utterance of disempowerment A three word society on its own filled with expectation when the first mistake was made A sense of being unloved, peaking through a pessimistic lens of hearing
Theres Something Great In All Of Us, Something We Dont Earn But is Born Within Us, Potential.. Potential Change The Lives Of Others and Make A Difference In World Where We
in crispy cold, the wafer moon flies there's a loneliness that backhands this repeating demise all the stars around me seem as pores to the sky and my pores breathe them in like millions of eyes
My favorie place is in the middle of a wasteland in suspense before a battle. But my favorite place is also a peaceful woodland village with mythical beasts scampering around.
Endlessly hoping for something, anything... But recieving nothing. That's what my life feels like. Chasing dreams and coming up dry. But it plays the way I want it to, in my imagination.
Head in the clouds Body on the ground, Imagination is endless The world is my playground. The place in which I live Where fairy tales are true, Is a secret I can't give
Poems capture beauty They describe a living scene They talk about the real world Things everyone can see If you've ever seen a sunset Splashes of color in the sky Or gazed upon a rainbow,
I write to speak my mind. I write to keep my thoughts inside. I write to express. I write to impress. I write to remember. I write to forget. I write because I have to.
I’m drawing a blank. My mind sits still. The room gives me no hints. Painfully bland is my imagination, Bringing me nothing but ordinary. I hear the oblivion.
On a grey day filled with rain that never stopsAs my heart screams but can't be heard, time continues to clockI have news--good, bad, happy, and sadYet I have no one around to tell them as they're too busy musedWith their pleasures and ecstasy, y
Poetry is the air I breathe, the sacred serene sound of peace, the one and only complete atmosphere, where symbols provoke happiness or fear.
Out of my way Out of my skin Fire flows through my brain Let me go back to my time The time I went to fly Fly higher than the sky Where I met strangers They were neither red nor black
I have always helfd A pen in my hand Weaving tales I am never sure Which ones were already there And which ones will become Mine I feel that one day I might wake up And be a part
I write to have a voice A voice that can scream A voice that can cry A voice that can laugh A voice that is understood by others A voice that means something I write to have feeling
Look into your own Imagination. What is around your location? Suited rabbits? Black magic? Mystic incantations? Delve deeper than a magicians hat. Outside the box? Farther than that.
My eye see critics all around me. So, I stay hidden safe in my notebook where eyes can not see me. My words are safely locked away, the words I wish I could say. Anxiety... A curse to your life. Fear of the outside looking inside.
Close your eyes and breathe Let go of the world around you Reach out a hand and touch a star Ride on the back of a dragon Close your eyes and breathe
I write, therefore I am free free to be me i live in a country with freedom of expression and I choose to use it. I need no therapy sessions, write my own questions
My mind contains a world of its own. I live among things natural, familiar and known Yet yearn for those lands of magic that I must leave With those gateways to fairies, witches, and miracles
The Imagination is the key, to ones true self. Seeing the colors of a rainbow in different hues, The Imagination is the key, to one’s true self. Seeing the colors of a rainbow in different hues,
I write for the sake of a generation lost in their own wandering. I write for the purpose of humoring my own pondering. What am I? Why am I here? Where is my voice?
Beyond imagining the possibly perfect, Make anything your heart will dare desire, Let it go and run wild and watch the effect, Make no limits: just immensely imagine and don't let it tire.
Imagination is a galaxy, Full of wonder, life and mystery. Each planet an idea, Each bright star a goal. Creating a universe of colorful stories.
Explore evrything with deep meaning sit alone believing no barriers containing me my eyes are open and i can see EVERYTHING...
pure freedom it's a sigh of relief it's serenity it is me a different sight a new perspective like a dream or reality it's all right the essence of the moment but through different eyes
Alarms blare, cities fall up And my hands, scared but tenderly, cup Away from the blue, away from the sky A small, small piece of an everyday lie
I'm sick of doing this. See I just want you. But do I make you happy? Do you want me too? A relationship can make you mad, but is all the time accurate?
I am possessed. I am possessed by a power beyond my control. I am possessed by a power beyond my control and understanding.
We will never again label people like animals they said We will never again let a government kill millions they said But what about the immigrants I say
there aimlessly floating above cranium slowly envel( o p i n g mind to airy delirium grasped and clenched then stole presence. so no longer occupy space around: the reality you deny
Be the Peter to my Wendy and we’ll grow young together. With nimble feet and sewn on shadows we’ll drift into a bank of memories piled high and stored in well-lit jars for our wrinkled years.
A place, a meaning, a voice, a dream and a goal Within the walls of this beautiful classroom, Students learn the secrets of life day by day They discover a little about themselves and of the world around them.
She’s cold and isolated The demons lurk beneath People think they know her But the beauty’s just skin deep And she wants to run away From the hurt and the pain No one sees the shackles trailing,
I dreamed a dream and in it was love He had not a face nor a form But deep in his being there beated a heart Far surpassing the average or norm
If I were an artist I’d bathe myself in color And allow my art to consume me I’d wash myself with charcoal And paint my features with pastel I would wake in the midst of night
I may write you down in my memories With my imagination and fantasy. I may stride with you on the beach And confidently toward the wedding gate.
i am neesey my friend is freep stickation to normalicy thats our motto ironically witty thats its translation to use dictionary words when you can invent some is a forfeit
Have you ever been To the land of the lost? The place with no end? A place of thought? Everyone has been there. Everyone knows. Children want to live there. Adults tell them no.
I wonder what it feels like to drown in the sky Dancing above the rooftops Watching time fly by Inhaling all the clouds If I had a breath to breathe it’d rip it from my lungs As I sank closer to the stars
Dark galore The minute my hands shut the door Blank music sheets spread on the floor Spiderwebs on the stairs
Take away my lifelines Watch me fade away I am the Gravity Killer Wake me up with nightmares Fill my head with ash I am the Shadowman
100 days in a month Time never seems to fly Close my eyes and make a wish Then bury the star 10 feet under the sun Floating under weather Clouds in my way, can’t see a thing I’d much rather be blind
Isolation in imagination gives birth to genious ideas Naivity in social life is ignorance without bliss Pain, suffering in loniless Despair in imagination Ignoring inner mind is futile Mind is following I
Imagine a world connected to another by waters Puddles surrounding the neighborhood, families losing daughters In the night the creatures roam, kidnapping little girls, making them alter
It was the best house one could ever have I had to keep it a secret I coud't tell my friends They would just use me No They were never going to find out about the swimming pool The plane
Paint falls to canvas carrying with it the imagination of time. Landscapes, made of strokes miniscule and bold. Buildings, made of the sun’s shades, struggle not to melt in darkness.
In a life of trust and beliefe, One must forgive, one must forget. In a mind of hopes and dreams, One must consider, one must reflect on.
You are someone new, someone who hasn't been tainted by my memories Yet with you, my soul feels free. I can see you have a heart If I knocked, would you invite me in?
“I just wanted to be normal” She said As she scrapped the words into her paper Until it bled Deep blue ink Onto her fingers Leaving little blue trails through the forest of her written word
You're trapped in a box, No sense of sight, sign of light, No sound, a quiet so profound.
One night i had a dream. I dreamed i was walking along a darkened road, holding hands with a faceless man. As we walked scenes of my life flashed across the sky. I noticed that in every scene
Everyday I ask myself What will i have to prove. Do i have to hang always Heavy in that perfect imagination? Is that what my life is for? Is that the way of life? Stiff and unchanging.
This is when your jaw drops, You've finally seen the agony of a man that serves another for scraps, Builds a family from the ground up and still can't see the light, Que tienen miedo de la soga y de morir