Paris

I waited for what seemed like hours

sitting by the sidewalk waiting for a train

a train that would take me to Paris

when it finally arrived I climbed on

I put my suitcase down and sat in my seat

the man next to me smiled

I asked where he was headed

his smile grew as he spoke

of Paris

I gazed out the window for what

seemed like forever

birds were flying and singing

I could tell they were free

free to fly to Paris

On my first day I got off the train

I was counting the weeks

the days and hours

the minutes and seconds

going by while in Paris

I could feel the fresh air

breath it in

feel the soft sun on my face

I couldn't believe my eyes

I was in Paris

I shopped and looked around

smiling at the faces

I looked at a nice shop window and

saw a nice little booklet

it read A Writers Paris

Paris is where I bought that book

I opened the book

nothing was inside

blank pages and not even lines

I took a pink pen from by bag

and started writing

I couldn't sit still

I saw a cafe down a tiny street

people walking by

kids holding balloons

but I'll I could pay attention to was the smell

the smell of chocolate

I rushed to the cafe

sat down in  a yellow chair

pulled out my journal

and let down my hair

I sat reading and eating

not caring about anything because i was here

Paris was where I tasted chocolate

I watched a women with

curly blond hair

she was smiling

and running down the street

holding a book in her left

and a hat in her right

then she was out of sight

The next day I went to an
open field and started writing
writing down my entire
life's history
all the bad and the good
looking at the sky while
watching my memories go by
I was in Paris

I looked at the sites
took pictures while I walked
spoke to well almost everyone
for the next six days
I traveled around the city
taking photos and writing
down my thoughts
I was in Paris

I saved the best for last

I stood by the tower

gazing at its wonder

how far had I come

how difficult and exhilarating the ride

but I'm glad i got on

I was in Paris

I loved Paris

Paris was where I learned

to live

Wondering Paris

was like being in a dream

but now its time to leave

I've learned and can go

I walked the miles to the

station not wanting to get on

but the roads been fun

and its time to move on

I will miss u Paris

If you really knew me...

If you really knew me...

If you really knew me...

You'd know that I love being outside

and that I hate the cold,

That the only time I'm outside in the rain

is when I'm dancing

and you'd know that if I'm dancing

I'll start singing pretty quick,

but even though I hate getting my hair wet

and that I hate the cold

I'll be outside when it first snows

If you really knew me...

you'd know that I love nature,

that I'd go hiking everyday if i could,

that I'd have to reach the top of whatever

mountain I climb

so i could gaze at the view

but you'd know that I'm

afraid of heights

so I wouldn't go towards the edge

but I would sit for hours on end

just staring at the sky,

not caring about the time passing me by

if you really knew me...

you'd know that I love art

that I'd spend a whole day just thinking

of what my next masterpiece would be,

you'd know that i could think of

anything and call it art

because I'm a wacky sort of girl

If you really knew me...

you'd know that i love dancing crazy

but hate going to dances

that I'd rather stay at home

and read a good book

because i don't mind staying up,

that i could talk forever

that you'd have to slow me down

because its hard to understand

me when I start talking

of the things I love

If you really knew me...

You'd know that if I'm bored

you can find me outside

looking at the clouds

finding pictures of random things

and taking there picture

you'd know that I love animals

but I'm terrified of spiders

you'd know that I believe

in fairy tales,

that dreams come true

and know matter my trials

Ill make it through

If you really knew me...

you'd know that I love the night time

for i can see the stars and the moon

because the stars are my window to heaven

but you'd know that I'm scared of the dark

and of being alone

you'd know that i love writing poems

and telling ghost stories,

sitting by a fire

and calling to the lone wolf

but that's only if you really knew me

if only you knew me

LOST

The Inspiration I received from the poem Wanderer
By Nabanita Paul

LOST

I'm a wanderer

i wander lonely, lonely in my thinking

lonely in my walking, always keeping my eyes ahead

never looking behind, never to remember what i left behind

i wander through the dark streets searching

searching for what i do not know for i am a wanderer

i am a wanderer

i wander a great distance

i expand my mind and look past whats just in front of my eyes

my eyes, my eyes do keep to wandering

never stopping, always looking forward

never taking my mind of the path that i wander on

always looking, always seeking

seeking what i truly don't know for

i am a wanderer

i am a wanderer

i wander lonely, lonely in my thinking

sometimes i feel my feet sinking

my mind slipping and I'm still wandering

wandering closer and closer to the unknown

always keeping my eyes forward never to look back

always seeking, for what i do not know

i am a wanderer

always keeping my eyes up

trying to see the distance

seeking for something that might never be found

but that is what i do,  i wander lonely on the path

the path that i keep to

never to leave

never to turn back

never to remember

the past is gone, erased

and i still wander

i am a wanderer

i wander lonely through the forest

the forest of forgetful dreams

forgotten wishes never to come true

a darkened path leading to damnation

a hell of my very making

i feel my feet sinking deeper and deeper

through the pit of despair

my mind is slipping

turning into a clock ready to stop ticking

and i am forgetting

forgetting what i was seeking

was i seeking for anything in the beginning

i know not

i only know i am a wanderer

i wanderer through the crowd

the faces always looking down

i wonder what they are thinking

for i don't think for myself anymore

i keep my eyes up and forward

never seeing those right in front of me

i am stuck on the path

seeking for what i know not

but i keep searching

i will keep searching

until my time runs out

until the ticking ends

and i am free

free to fall in my pit

free to enter what Ive created for myself

what i willingly created for myself

i am a wanderer

and i keep on wandering

wandering a great distance

seeking for the unknown

looking for a hopeless dream

forgetting everything meaningful

forgetting myself

Wanderer

Wanderer

As small as a child I was forbidden to soar Through the breath of very nature  Thus barred my feet: yet my eyes not and they wander through every hill and  cloud Searching for something.I know not....Beyond every horde of mortals I  look out for thee In the land of hopes and dreams: a fantasy Where words are  silenced The heart overwhelmed Torments of thoughts, still none to speak of....  My expecting eyes, but lips sewn Yes.I perceive the anguish in your eyes  Wondering, wishing something to be told But my feelings are beyond any word  The silence creeps deep within And yet I hear your 'voice' The eyes dazed,  I'm seeing you with my inner eyes...That long to perceive the golden hue  But that is never found And they wander lonely as a bird: my eyes Under  azure stretches of sky.... Nabanita Paul

Jealousy has never been a positive for me. Jealousy towards others shows distrust. 
When you are Jealous because of others talents then you are telling yourself that you're 
not good enough. This poem makes me Jealous. I'm not Jealous in the way that I don't
 think i can write something this good. I'm jealous because this poem being as short as 
it is has over a hundred different meanings. I'm jealous because this poem in all its 
grandeur is written by the soul. like a caged bird not being able to spread its 
wings and fly through all natures beauty. The wanderer dreamed of things unknown.
 The wanderer wished on stars through its cold bars. The wanderer looks at things 
at a different angle, seeing things that others don't. believing in things that cant be 
seen or heard. The wanderer is always looking for the perfect sky to take flight. 
The wanderer is always dreaming. Seeing things with the soul.

This is for you.....

This is for you.....

This is for you.....

you know who you are

if you don't have a single clue

this is just not the poem for you

This is for you.....

This is for all the broken hearts

This is for all the caged birds

This is for all the birds to afraid to fly

through the open cage door

This is for you

This is for all the fallen tears

This is for all who weep

This is for all who are seeking

something to believe in

something to hold

something to care about

Something to hope for

This is for you

This is for all the scars

This is for meaningless love

This is for all who wish on stars

This is for all the wasted efforts

This is for you

This is for all the stitches

This is for all the doubts

This is for all who close there eyes

who imagine something more

Something worth living for

This is for you

This is for the dreamers 

This is for the Believers

This is for not giving up

This is for not quiting

This is for still believing

This is for you


so keep the faith
keep the hope
keep believing
keep the dream
fly through the cage door
its open
you just have to leap

So this is for those who keep living

This is for you

This is for you :>

Ghandhi well here it is

CURIOSITY DIDN'T QUITE KILL THAT CAT

sometimes its hard to think. its hard to play by the rules. why must i talk a certain way and look a certain way. no one is the same and everyone has their own voice. why must i keep my mouth shut to an opinion. why must i keep my head down and eyes closed. be curious and find yourself. i keep forgetting to be myself. I am me and that is who i am. i cannot be anyone else. if i choose to change i will still be me. i can be who i want to be and still be myself. when will we own ourselves completely? a lot of us don't even know who we really are. we search for ourselves for years and find nothing. why not look in the mirror. how come we have to have others tell us who we are? shouldn't we know ourselves? were all lost in the dark forest trying to find that one thing. that one thing is different for all of us. no one is on the same path. were all running for that finish line. well most of us. i guess  some are walking or crawling. but isn't that life. to breath air and not  know where you 're headed. don't go through the fog. turn on the head lights. its hard to think. its hard to be ourselves and speak up. its even harder when we don't know who we are.  be yourself, be who you wanna be and it wont be the last time I'll see the light. life cannot be measured, cannot be stored and should never make you bored. life is a gift and it should be exciting, happy, joyfully, wonderful, fulfilling, along with the stupid crummy gloom-ed days.
Just Live Life
its that simple