Melanie Gardiner, 28 sierpnia 2012
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are you.
But the roses are wilting,
the violets are dead,
the sugar bowl is empty,
and my wrists are stained red.
I'm so sorry,
But I must leave,
I cannot cause any more grief,
You've been there for me,
But I can't take,
Any more slamming gates.
Goodbye forever,
Farewell my love.
But beware,
for the sight you must bear.
The beds been turned,
Walls are blood stained,
My tears have flooded the room I hear,
For I'm gone,
Never to return,
and I now I say goodbye to the gates,
Because my fate has not been made.
Melanie Gardiner, 5 sierpnia 2012
I've tried to run,
Even as fast as the fading sun.
I have no one left,
it seems a pity,
for all the tears I've wept.
The thought of you chasing me across the sky,
Always stays, and I don't know why.
You ripped open my heart,
But I still love you.
I left you behind,
as I ran away.
But the thought of you,
Will Always stay.
Melanie Gardiner, 23 lutego 2012
A state of New England,
The ninth colony, to be exact,
Is anything but old school bland.
Her land is something of a beautiful craft.
The air blows wild and clean,
Through the most vibrant autumn leaves,
With its mountains, hills, trees, and life,
It seems that her land will never breathe its last.
The trees that whisper,
For if you leave, you might miss her,
For the greatest problem one could face,
Is deciding how to enjoy her grace.
Melanie Gardiner, 23 lutego 2012
4-H is more than a club,
It’s a growing passion, a greater love.
The people that join,
Are more valuable than any coin.
They pledge for head, heart, hands, and health,
This is better than any large wealth.
These people are the ones that aid,
No matter how the waves of fate bade.
They will always be there,
Enriching our lives,
For the better,
To stay by the four-leaf-clover,
Forever.
Melanie Gardiner, 15 stycznia 2012
The thing behind your door,
The thing under your bed,
The thing behind a tree,
Don't you think that might be me?
The thing you hear,
The thing you never see,
How do you know its not me?
Think, think,
Of the Night,
In your dream,
Is it not me?
Look,
Look,
At the face.
See the face?
It has no face?
Well then, guess.
What makes you tick,
What makes you scream,
What makes you jump,
What makes you cry,
What makes you jolt,
What makes you run,
What makes you shake,
What makes you twitch?
Now let me ask you this,
Do you have a itch?
Melanie Gardiner, 15 stycznia 2012
What makes you tick,
What makes you scream,
When things aren't always what they seem?
What makes you jump,
What makes you cry,
When someone says to go bedy-bye?
What makes you jolt,
What makes you run,
When I'm just having fun?
What makes you shake,
What makes twitch,
What is it about me that makes you itch?
Tick, scream, jump, and cry,
Until you go bedy-bye.
Jolt, run, shake, and twitch,
Because I think you have a itch.
Melanie Gardiner, 15 stycznia 2012
One single rose has showed up at the door,
Yet not one more thing to be seen,
I knew it wasn't a dream.
I stormed out into the street,
But something was fumbling under my feet,
It was the Rose of Revenge that dropped from my hand,
I scooped it up and rushed through the sand.
Though I ran as fast as I could,
I still smelled ashes and soot.
I looked through a house,
Around and about,
But someone was here without a doubt.
Then someone rose from the floor and hit the door,
He was dieing but trying to survive with too many sores.
I wanted to help but I knew who he was so I stood my ground.
He landed on the ground with a thud,
Yet, there was no blood.
I threw the Rose of Revenge on his chest,
Because certainly he was no guest.
Melanie Gardiner, 1 stycznia 2012
Love is a thing that can't be found.
It is an abstract feeling...
One strong enough to kill.
It may stretch a long distance,
but may also drive you through like a
lance.
It drives you crazy,
and makes your senses grow lazy.
It
makes your heart beat,
feet dance,
brain think,
eyes see,
ears
hear,
nose smell,
and mouth taste.
If there was no love,
The
world would be without the symbolic dove.
Torn apart,
All life to
depart.
Just try to love.
Try to be smart,
And listen to your
heart.
Melanie Gardiner, 1 stycznia 2012
If you don't listen,
Why hear?
If
you don't look,
Then why see?
Our world is changing,
And our
hearts are banging,
Fantasy may be truth,
Reality may be fake,
...but who are we to say what's real,
Who's to say we made the wheel?
Secrets can be kept,
And for that we must be apt,
In seeking
what must be found,
Before it is ever drowned.
When Earth shifts,
And fantasy is true,
Reality a nightmare,
You must look for
faults,
See the changes,
Listen to the whispers,
Analyze it in your
head,
And keep your memories in tune,
... And keep looking at the
moon
Melanie Gardiner, 1 stycznia 2012
Listen to me my little dear,
You must
not have any fear,
Listen,
To the wind,
I-am-coming.
Listen,
my little sweet,
Do not hear what your thoughts may keep,
Listen,
To your heartbeat,
I-am-coming.
Listen, my little treat,
Do not
think of the things I eat,
I-am-coming.
Listen, you little
meat.
Do not scream,
Do not cry,
While I hum a
lullaby.
Listen, to the words,
For you never again will hear
birds
Sing.
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