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I will climb up my tree of poetry; Onto the highest branch, Far into the leaves Where the birds will sing the thoughts I, once, could never focus on.
I've recently discovered That I have uncovered A secret longing I've had inside Hidden within my mind. Why is it now only surfacing And why are my thoughts discouraging Something that I truly desire?
When one loves something They often don't know Its a funny story That in fact I do but don't My love for poetry Started just like that From the moment I could read and write
Some call it love while some say it's passion. For some it's a hobby, no more than a pastime, but to me it is neither, not a love nor a passion. To me it is more, it's a way to live life.
I am Lucas. Yet people insist that I am someone named "Hannah", Someone that is no longer me. I am male. Yet people insist that I am female
Dawn is upon us The blue sky, the beautiful roses Let us be appreciative Of these gifts through our choices.
I am a dream A picture formed on the mind I am a vision Is what I think of all the time But what does it all mean?
Spic spac rickety rack you're the talent, I the act aim to please but crowds of one good for the soul, our makings of fun You burn so bright day after day I'm the doer of deeds, of passions so gay