i am not a poet,

nor am i a poem.

i am not a writer,

nor a book.

i am not a painter,

nor a painting.

i am not a sculptor,

nor a sculpture,

i  am not the artist,

nor the muse.

i am an idea,

that exists

only

in your imagination

i wondered why i stopped
writing my poems
when i realized

i was already hers
and that was simply
too beautiful for words

Nothing
more dangerous
than poets
who takes
themselves
cerealously  
🤭

A smile is a reflection of joy,
when you see the people you love.
It is a reflection of happiness,
when you meet old friends.

A smile is an unspoken word,
that says it all.

Like butterflies as they rest their wings
and prepare for another day
So will you take time off once in a while
to re-coop and breathe
When rainy days come and you had enough
do like the butterfly in the sky
Close up your wings and sit for a while
you'll fly again soon, when its over.
Its ok to rest during life's biggest storms
rain can damage many a wing
So wrap those weary arms around you
then close your eyes and pray

You'll fly again some day, you'll see !

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
William Shakespeare

It is all about perspective and that is key to heart
Shiny blade of cutting edge, do you **** or butter
pray tell, OH, Sitting knife !    
Shall I use my quill and write about you as you are  
or spin a yarn regarding you, telling tales to see how far ?
Should I stretch my wenden shades of rose for you,
or strive to see thy point of view !  

Interpret me with candor and honesty dear mate,
and please remember this ...
If you hold me to the sun, I will reflect thy shine  
if you hold me to the dark, all ignorance be thine !    
Perception is key for all of truth's reveal        
so may thine eyes be set in truth and see the good in me.      
Make haste, adjust thy lens, ... take me to a place of love.

By: Mystic Rose

All alone in an unhappy place
Where all the walls are mirrors
And ugliness is looking back
No matter which way I may turn.

There doesn’t seem to be a door-
Just only mirrored walls and ceiling.
The cold floor hurts my shoeless feet
As endlessly I pace in circles.

The crowd of people in the glass
Have followed me for many years
Behind the curtains - in the shade-
Never coming face to face.

But here they now encounter me
With looks of reprehension…
And all I have to offer them
Are bitter tears of sad regret
ljm