Is It Poetry

Gold Star - 30,749 Points (1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)

Is It Poetry Poems

6441. Your Pale White Hand 3/12/2010
6442. Your Part Of A Hand 2/8/2010
6443. Your Religion And God, As I See It 8/14/2016
6444. Your Right Hand 4/7/2009
6445. Your Ring Is, Around My Finger 4/26/2011
6446. Your River Of Life 12/15/2008
6447. Your Room Of Courts 1 11/23/2009
6448. Your Rules Of My Pain... 4/25/2009
6449. Your Shadow Will I Keep 3/16/2009
6450. Your Shame 4/27/2010
6451. Your String Of It's Prose 6/3/2009
6452. Your Tears How They Burn Me 4/11/2010
6453. Your Three Legged Horse Won The Race 12/21/2008
6454. Your Virtue 4/13/2011
6455. Your Why My, ' Priorities 11/8/2010
6456. Your Winding Dream 3/19/2009
6457. Your Winding Stream 12/22/2008
6458. Your Words Unrifled Grace 3/21/2009
6459. Your Writes, .... 4/29/2009
6460. Your, 'Young Girl Today 4/27/2010
6461. You'Re 2/22/2010
6462. You'Re Hot When Your Not 10/7/2009
6463. Yours, ' I Am Not 11/30/2011
6464. Yours, My Closet 10/20/2010
6465. Youth And Love 12/28/2016
6466. Youth Dressed In Gray 7/23/2011
6467. Z Poo Bate 12/13/2008
6468. Z Poo Conveys 12/12/2008
6469. Z Poo Returns 12/12/2008
6470. Z Poo Ringer Mustache 12/12/2008
6471. Z Poo Singer 12/12/2008
6472. Z Poo Trembles On A String 12/13/2008
6473. Zoo 3/29/2009
6474. فقدت داخل القرآن الكريم الخاص بك 1/19/2014
Best Poem of Is It Poetry

...................She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..

She is he,
and he is She.
The two,
now lost, loves heart.
And bright,
the yellow sun.

You once we're two,
as one,
and ran around the world.
Inside both heads.

He fell inside loves fire.
And she,
his red heart pumping burned

Both fires,
burned ice cold hot.
Within Her,
light did give U.S. form.

Over shadows love,
swept out black coals.

Your smile, twin lips.
He kissed, both miss.


His face, from that.
Bright coals, still hiss.

Now alone again,
he walks into.

Loves,
loving ...

Read the full of ...................She Is Afraid, He Is Tired..

The Criminal Woman

O' the rich one,
Why must I ask or you beg.
Having loved but once, nothing about you
would I change.
Jeckle nor Hyde or even poor jack,
I would be.
The old poet, Donne
His words though you read,
Are misinterpreted, differently today are they not.

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