It can be any poem that you made.
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Dog I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice. It’s nothing new, it’s nothing nice. You’ll ask why he Is in the ground, We’ll talk about how he was from the pound. Well hold his collar As we cry. Well say our tearful, sad goodbyes. We will miss How his tail would wag. He was so handsome, we had to brag. Now he’s gone. Toys in the lawn. I don’t want to move on. To my beloved dog, Dax, who died a few years ago.
Poems can be weird. They're also pretty damn random. Refrigerator.
anger, politics, the need to save face, are some of many things that plague this human race, the fact that I am right and you are wrong, is spread throughout in a terrible song, why can't we agree at least, “because so and so cant keep their peace,” why go to the black and the white, instead see the peace in grays might, instead of warring against one another, see each other as a brother, If we all were filled with gratitude and love at least , Then I hope the whole world will understand peace. But, sadly it’s hard to do this for one another, For example, I, the author, get vexed by my brother, My, father, My mother, My Sister, We both disturb each other's peace, And sometimes can't agree at the least. Somethings just can't be changed. War and peace, Hate and shame, But the best we can do is at least try. But not deny, Or lie, or complain and ask Why? or cry Or pry into anyones life. And instead, help each other to reach the sky.
To my mom for Valentine’s Day: Roses are red, Violets are blue, You are the best mom, And I love you.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, Robert Frost poetAnd sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
i just want to cry but i don't know why i just want to die or i could try but what would apply? my hopes are far to high instead of falling i want to fly instead of admitting i want to deny instead of talking i choose to be shy im too scared to reply i hate saying goodbye im not strong enough to the naked eye some conversations are too dry but i have to let go i cant keep a tie.....
