nicola burkett

Rookie - 182 Points (30.04.1984 / South East, London)

nicola burkett Poems

1. The Day The Rainbow Cried 5/20/2006
2. Ode To The Silent Clowns 5/22/2006
3. Writers Block 5/22/2006
4. No One Can Replace Your Daddy 6/19/2006
5. Vigil 4/4/2006
6. Star (Haiku) 4/4/2006
7. Waiting 4/4/2006
8. Revenge (Haiku) 4/5/2006
9. People's Lives Are Public Property 4/12/2006
10. The Day 3/16/2006
11. Standing Still 3/16/2006
12. Normal Life 3/16/2006
13. She 3/18/2006
14. Time Machine 3/18/2006
15. Pushing Back 4/23/2006
16. They! ! ! 3/19/2006
17. Tears (Haiku) 3/21/2006
18. The Ground Starts To Shake 3/21/2006
19. To Sara With Love 3/22/2006
20. The Day My Sky Fell Down 3/22/2006
21. Voices 3/27/2006
22. Rummaging 3/28/2006
23. Someone 3/16/2006
24. Time Goes By 3/18/2006
25. The Candle 3/19/2006
26. We Are Scared Of Nothing 3/19/2006
27. 09 - Honour Under The Old Oak Tree 11/2/2006
28. Behind 11/2/2006
29. I'M Not Perfect 11/2/2006
30. A Tear To Shed 11/2/2006
31. Instructions 11/2/2006
32. Glue 11/2/2006
33. I Should Have Seen It Coming 11/2/2006
34. In Denial 11/2/2006
35. Corruption 11/2/2006
36. Love (Haiku) 11/2/2006
37. 13 - The Victim 11/2/2006
38. 15 - Deep Crimson 11/2/2006
39. 16 - Deaf, Dumb & Blind 11/2/2006
40. 08 - A Forgotten Graveyard 11/5/2006
Best Poem of nicola burkett

05 - A Hero

A hero thinks of others before they think of themselves
A hero will die to protect
A hero can be of any age, any colour
A hero can be man, woman or child
A hero is courageous, loving and brave
A hero will never complain
A hero can be made in one act of compassion
Or years of tender loving care
Some hero's are remembered, whilst many are left forgotten
Hero's are angels in disguise, saving precious innocent lives

I dedicate this poem
To Pvt Steven Freund, Officer Kevin Tonn and all fallen heroes.

Read the full of 05 - A Hero

Stereotype

Don't try to stereotype who i should finally grow to be
I'll make my own mistakes which will make me, me
Please don't pigeon hole me into a perfect little box
I'll eat with my fingers and wear odd socks
I do not need a written script or my life mapped out
I'll lie in on Sundays and leave my clothes lying about
I do not wish to be who you expect me to be
I'll write my own story one that’s suited to me
I'll never walk in the shoes you have worn for years

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