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More Poetry

Here are 3 more poems for you to read. These three are NOT by me. The first one was written by my sister, the second was was sent to me by a friend, and the third is by Rudyard Kipling. I may soon be adding more poems that were written by some of my friends. I hope you like all the poems you find on my pages *smiles* In case you were wonndering, the poem below that was written by my sister is untitled.



You enter my dreams through the back door
as you now no other way to reach me.

You consume my thoughts all night and day
and breathe life and love into me.

You are on the breath of every word I say
yet you can not hear me.

You lay humble in the arms of another
but I know you see me.

Your vivid smile sustains my longing
until we meet again my love...

                       Bel

FRIENDS WITHOUT FACES

We sit and we type, and we stare at our screens
We all have to wonder, what this possibly means.

With our mouse we roam, through the rooms in a maze
Looking for something or someone, as we sit in a daze.

We chat with each other, we type all our woes
Small groups we do form, and gang up on our foes.

We wait for somebody, to type out our name
We want recognition, but it is always the same.

We give kisses and hugs, and sometimes flirt
In IMs we chat deeply, and reveal why we hurt.

We do form friendships- but -why we don't know
But some of these friendships, will flourish and grow.

Why is it on screen, we can be so bold
Telling our secrets, that have never been told.

Why is it we share, the thoughts in our mind
With those we can't see, as though we were blind.

The answer is simple, it is clear as a bell
We all have our problems, and need somone to tell.

We can't tell real people, but tell someone we must
So we turn to the 'puter, and to those we can trust.

Even though it is crazy, the truth still remains
They are Friends Without Faces, and odd little names.

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim:
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve long after they are gone,
And hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: 'Hold On'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son.

                                 Rudyard Kipling

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