I was Born with Tar.... on my Heels.... I was Born a Volunteer.... I was Born a Dew Drop on The Petal.... of a Yellow Rose.... I was Born a quiet Soul....Knowing words Have a great Power....They Can Mend that which is Torn.They Can Sow the Knowledge.That which is Yet to be Learned.They Can Lift The Human Spirit Out Of A Bottomless Dark Hole.They Can Teach Our Children Humanity, and empathy, and all the Virtues That would Lead Our Children To The Light.That which Ail's me. Is that which Compels me to write
A good thing to have
is the gift to know
when the poem is spun
when to turn off the flow
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Fall Festival Poem: Written By Stephanie Mellisa Kievaughan in r-L
and: Punxsutawney in Second Life
you may need to get outside to find your happy place...
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Thank God for these Dirty Dishes,
For They Have a Tale to tell.
They give proof.
To the Silent Listener.
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The meaNing of Life
is found around 23 and 42,
And no this is not
aN age of me nor you.
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