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ANTIQUES : DOOR HANDLE

January 21, 2017

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UNIQUE by © Abimbola T. Alabi Because I know who I am, I'm at ease and free. I can't be like others, And they can't be me. I've got fading scars, An unusual physique, But it all works together To make me unique. I've got hidden strengths, Some obvious flaws. Still I am who I am, For better for worse. I don't have to blend in; I won't live a lie. I can't please everyone; I won't even try. Some call me proud; Others stare at me in alarm. But I'm not one to bother, Because I know who I am.

THE TRUE MEANING OF LIIFE by © Patricia A. Fleming The Years have passed by, In the blink of an eye, Moments of sadness, And joy have flown by. People I loved, Have come and have gone, But the world never stopped, And we all carried on. Life wasn't easy, And the struggles were there, Filled with times that it mattered, Times I just didn't care. I stood on my own, And I still found my way, Through some nights filled with tears, And the dawn of new days. And now with old age, It's become very clear, Things I once found important, Were not why I was here. And how many things, That I managed to buy, Were never what made me, Feel better inside. And the worries and fears, That plagued me each day, In the end of it all, Would just fade away. But how much I reached out, To others when needed, Would be the true measure, Of how I succeeded. And how much I shared, Of my soul and my heart, Would ultimately be, What set me apart. And what's really important, Is my opinion of me, A...

SNOW by Louis MacNeice

SNOW by Louis MacNeice The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes – On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands – There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

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ANTIQUES : DOOR HANDLE

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