Thursday, March 3, 2011

Poetry corner

Gotta share some of the poems that I found in one of those journals. Sadly, I don't know if any of them are mine. Some of them have authors and some don't. Since I can't remember a damn thing and they all seem so familiar to me (either because I wrote them or just because I loved them and read them over and over), I have no idea whether I actually wrote any of these. Oh well. I'm just glad to have found them.


I paint my picture,
you choose my colors.
I close my eyes and dance in my mess,
smearing my paint on my face,
and my hands,
and my hair.

I rub my eyes in a futile attempt to clear my vision.
I comb through my hair with my sticky fingers
and try in vain to paint off the colors from my face with my thickened, stiffened brush.
It only grates on my skin
and I cry - red tears,
high-strung sobs that fall from cheeks to canvas.

I close my eyes and dance in my mess,
clutching my paints,
that you have chosen,
that I have accepted.

-Author unknown - me?? maybe? who knows!

Don't love me

Don't love me because I have fair eyes and hair of gold.
Don't kiss me because I am tall and slender.
Don't admire me for my charming smile or delicate hands.
Don't adore me because I sing like a dream or laugh like an angel.
For these are all things beyond my control.
They are gifts.

Love me for my heart.
Kiss me because I am kind.
Admire me for my character.
Adore me because I am good.
For these are the things that I control.

So please,
Love me for who I am.

-Amanda Smith

Until I got to "I sing like a dream", I was convinced it was me, lol. Well I guess my hands aren't that delicate either, but I pretend. Seriously though, why do Nik's hands feel like the butt of a baby and mine feel like a fifty year old construction worker? Gggrrrr.

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