Beauty and the Beast

For the Beast loved Beauty so greatly, that he gave up the chance to be human again, and let Beauty leave. In this one selfless act he showed more love then any other act man or beast could perform. 

Star

The first star
I see tonight
Reminds me of you
My hearts delight

Poems from me to you

Here are some more poems that I wrote..

My Love

My love is creasing

For your heart

And when I’m dreaming

We’re never apart  

My Heart 

My heart was hard

Then I met you

and now you rule

all of my heart

Joyful Manwhen I think

I think of you

When I dream

I dream of you

when I ask

For thy soft hand

I shall be

A joyful man 

Why?

Why do i have a blog????? i dont even like blogging... but whatever

Gosh Why

So... when you get sad and cry like at the end of My Dog Skip and Marley and Me, it makes you feel weak. I am here to tell you that it is not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. Now i am not a very feminine man, actually i am not feminine at all. i have no idea what i am writing..... forget this....

This is a first draft of this poem... so don't be to judge mental.. :) but i appreciate all the comments.   

My Life Risen Up

I am the Iron Ore,

Waiting in the dark,

Waiting to be found,

So I can be used for all around

I am the scattered bits,

Stuck in between the ground,

Waiting for the glorious day,

The day that I will be found,

I hear a strange awestruck noise,

A bang, a boom, then light,

The day that has been oh so longed,

The day I have been found,

The man, he takes his iron pick,

Oh so sharp and strong,

And digs me out, of my black pit,

And takes me from the ground,

He takes me back, to his shop,

Where he will make a anew,

In something that, can be used for him,

And I will be gladly used,

He places me, in a mold,

Where my imperfections will be burned,

He places me, in his forge,

And I am burned anew,

I come out, a brand new bar,

A bar of iron strong,

And I, with no imperfections,

Must be made into something to use,

The man takes, his giant hands,

And crafts me in’ a weapon,

A weapon, not made for evil,

But a weapon made for good,

An iron weapon, may be strong,

But in battle it can break,

So he, must repair me,

To make me something great,

Repairing me, with fire,

To make me battle ready,

He drowns, me in water,

To make me a stronger man,

Now, with my new coat,

Of shimmering bright new steel,

I am ready, for the battle,

The battle that could be my end,

The master, who plucked me,

From the darken depths of ground,

He has made me, brilliant steel,

That shines for all around,

boop