I am a lover not a fighter but I will fight for what I believe in. I love my poetry and I love to write it. I think poetry is the one of the only reasons why I am dealing with life instead of running. I don't hate my life I just hate some of the people who have come into it and then destroyed it. Almost all my poems are about love and not in a good way. There are some poems that don't really have ... more »
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Kelsea Osterman Poems
I walk a path that has no end. It seems to go on and on. Never comes to an end and has no light.
I Hate that I love you (remix)
I hate the way you can look at me and I get lost in your gaze. I hate the way you can see past my looks and see who I really am.
I never thought you could hurt me. I thought I closed the iron gates after the last one left. But yet again you proved me wrong. Ha silly me.
The History Teacher
The last of the group is a teacher. A history teacher to be in fact. And I know many hate the study of history, But there are some who just love his classes.
Brothers till the End
Taken from me and returned to our mother Hera. You were my brothers by blood and at heart. And now you lay separate, Only one is allowed to return to the heavens,
There is a girl who I hate. There is a girl who has blue eyes. There is a girl who has blonde hair. There is only one person I hold this hate for.
Life was always like her poems. Really poetry was her life. Her life was free and forever flowing just like her poetry. There was always a hint of pain and sorrows in every line.
You are but a young girl. A sweet little girl. Yet you hold my heart. And you hold my soul.
Life or Death
it is but a simple thing. This thing we call life. We hold it so dear yet means nothing to me. What is this thing we call life.
Tears, fall down my face as I finally see what I truly mean to you. Tears fall and hit the ground every time I think of you. I watch as the tears fall and hit the floor. Blood, soon mixes with the tears that have fallen.
A Simple Little Letter
I love you is all want to say to you. I do I do love you, sure it took some time but I know now that I really do. I love you with all the little tiny fragments of my broken heart. But no now that I want you, you want nothing, nothing to do with me.
You promised that you’d always be there. You promised I could always count on you. That you’d be there for me. Well here I am in need of you.
My Final Day
I am but a girl who loved my brother. Who loved her sister. And who loved her country. And if I am to be punished for what I believe in then so be it.
Sisters By Blood
Sisters by blood. Sisters by mother, By father. In the end we are sisters.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I walk a path that has no end.
It seems to go on and on.
Never comes to an end
and has no light.
It is dark and cold.
It is scary and I'm all alone.
I have to walk this path
wondering why I do it.
Why am I here and
where am I?
I walk this path with an
empty mind now.
Nothing to think about.
Nothing to do.
I wish to find the light.
Just a little light would be nice.
But here I am still wandering
these halls that have no end.
still no one here, and still all