Phobia of Me
Bouncing around inside my head
trying to escape this feeling
the feeling of anger and fear
so intense my mind is reeling
break free soon or end up brain dead
voices say what no one else hears
anger at myself for not knowing
anger at the world for not caring
i used to be happy and care free
now i can feel the anger growing
taking control, its over bearing
stress builds up as i try to leave me
fear of losing you overwhelms
i cant take the intensity
it hurts to think, let alone straight
i cant stop, my own private hell
worrying over you and me
fear destroys as i sit and wait
anger and fear eats away at me
making it hard to breathe
and concentrate on livng normally
as i try to hide my phobia of me
This poem was submitted by katey farmer.
Anger
You want to know what anger is?
I tell you, you do not!
For it is a feeling that extinguishes all life,
Destruction and rage is what it has in store for you,
Your soul will be tortured at every last minute,
You waste, with anger’s villainy.
Anger swears to muderously end all existence,
And it will threaten everyone and everything,
I tell you now…not to fall into it’s cunning trap,
For anger can be devious at times.
And if you fall into it, get out quickly,
For every second in there is a second lost to it’s wrath,
Be sure to avoid it poet,
Do not be tempted to serve anger.
This poem was submitted by Robert Gardner.
Friend
O, friend where are you
When I need help
O, friend
Where are you
When I need huge
O, friend
Where are you
When I need love
Where are you
When I need all of you
O, friend
O, friend
I do not hate you all
This poem was submitted by khoirun niam.
Partners
I dreamed I stood in a studio,
And watched two sculptors there.
The clay they used was a child’s mind,
And they fashioned it with care.
One was a teacher; the tools used,
Were books and music and art.
One, a parent with guiding hands,
A gentle and loving heart.
Day after day the teacher toiled,
With a touch both deft and skilled.
The parent labored side by side,
And all the values filled.
And when at last their task was done,
They looked at what they’d wrought.
The beautiful shape of the precious child,
Could neither be sold nor bought.
And each agreed it would have failed,
If one had worked alone.
For behind the parent stood the school,
And behind the teacher, home.
This poem was submitted by Harry.
My Best Friend
i don’t have any
but i wish i have one
its too hard for me
to find a best friend
thousands people around me
i really hope one of them is be my best friend
but its too hard for me
to get a real best friend
they might laughing with me
they might smiling with me
they might crying with me
but i really hope they won’t pretending with me
as a best friend
accept everything we have
but,
its really hard for me to get a best friend
as my world is alien for you…
This poem was submitted by Muhammad Fikri Fayi.
Memory Can Tell Us Only What We Were
Memory can tell us only what we were,
In company with those we loved;
It cannot help us find out what each of us,
Alone, must now become.
Yet, no person is really alone;
Those who live no more still echo
Within our thoughts and words,
And what they did has become
Woven into what we are.
This poem was submitted by Richard Fife.
A Friend Like You
When I have down times
Days dreary and blue,
I receive help right on time
From a friend like you.
When I have struggles
Days tough to get through,
I receive a hand on mine
From a friend like you.
When I face battles
Days attacks are renewed,
I receive just what I need
From a friend like you.
When I think again of
Days you brought solace too,
I receive true friendship
From a friend like you.
Thank you for being my friend!
This poem was submitted by L C Taylor.
A Special Teacher
Teachers come and go
but every so often one comes along
that you’ll always remember
one who makes learning an adventure…
and who can still remember
what it’s like to be young
and growing up…
the kind who can make you
want to be the very best you can be…
Someone you can really talk to,
who really cares
what happens to you…
That person is YOU!
This poem was submitted by Harry.
In Time of “The Breaking of Nations”
I
Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.
II
Only a thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onward the same
Though Dynasties pass.
III
Yonder a maid and her wight
Come whispering by:
War’s annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.
This poem was submitted by Thomas Hardy.
Teacher
I bet you’ve tied a million shoes
and dried a million tears
and given out a million hugs
as a teacher, through the years.
In my child’s life, the role you’ve played
has been a priceless part
and your must know the special place
You hold in my child’s heart
This poem was submitted by Sharon Harper Sampson.
