Some are funny, some are angry, some are observations of the modern world, many are very sad, and of course, a very large number of them are about love! I missed some memories in my past But i hope this emotion of mine will last Missing my whole family maybe turn into crying And it makes me feel that my heart is dying. I missed the time when i'm not all alone I mean when my family were all in home When we eat together it was so nice and fun 'cause we talked and laughed together as long as we can.
Some people think of Teen Love and smile. It's not real love, they say. Puppy Love, they call it.
Love is the most powerful force in the world. It has the power to inspire individuals to go to unheard of lengths to recapture love that was lost. Love also has the power to inspire poets and writers to put on paper the greatest masterpieces in existence. The greatest art formed throughout the centuries were formed in the name of love.
Love is not always easy. Falling in love is easy, but keeping love alive calls for more effort. Love has its own special challenges that you might not know how to handle at first.
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Monday, January 2, Teen Angst Poetry. Labels: The end. Just to hold you close to me Just to hear you talk Just to take a walk with you Would be enough To make me see That I like you enough To do stuff That I would never do Unless it was for you I'd pick flowers for you There's no-one else who I'd do these things for Never done them before Feels so strange Try to rearrange My feelings for you Guess it must be true I probably love you By: Anil A.
The little things are what make teenage love so special. Things like hanging out at the mall, wandering around with no place to be, listening to music together, and texting each other all night, so late that you fall asleep with your phone in your hand and can barely stay awake in class the next day. It's the thrill and uncertainty that comes with not knowing how long your relationship will last or if it is really true love.
You left. Since you left, whenever I close my eyes I see a silhouette of you; I hear your voice bouncing off the walls in my head; My eyes wander whenever I walk through the halls, searching for you; My fingers constantly curl, grasping for the hands that they no longer hold, Or twirl looking for the lochs of you hair that they used to nimbly run through. It implies no end, and yet to those after class meetings, there was an end.