Treasure Island

Its yellow jello my little fellow. yell


It's Possible


it's possible to get lost, in this world of his
it's possible to not live through this
it's possible to fall in love
then fall from above
never loving again
it's possible to get hurt,
get Killed,
or even Murdered.
it's possible to feel guilt,
then it's all a blur
it's possible to build a sun in the snow
it's possible to just not know
it's possible you'll like it here
it's possible it'll only give you fear
it's possible that nothing is ever possible
but what it might be
but as you can see we cant tell the possible.
we can only Live
the POSSIBLE

Submitted: Saturday, July 04, 2009
Edited: Sunday, July 19, 2009
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (It's Possible by Its yellow jello my little fellow. yell )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. تعالي لنرسم معاً قوس قزح, سميح القاسم
  2. Norman Doesn't Go to Ferguson, Missouri, Donal Mahoney
  3. طائر الرعد, سميح القاسم
  4. تقدموا, سميح القاسم
  5. Fearless, Omar Eldamsheety
  6. Unintentional Existence: Repository Citr.., Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
  7. Friendzone (Rap song), Clint Kingham
  8. The Marché Aux Puces And The Jardin Des .., William Daryl Hine
  9. The Lake, William Daryl Hine
  10. The Copper Beech, William Daryl Hine

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]