Trisha W Edit • Map • Add • Add Favorite

Now enter my world...

You’ve had your opportunity to meet others,

But have overlooked this girl.

I’m quite different from the rest,

But in such a better way,

Yet I’m not the best.

My mind is set on my future,

My heart on helping others.

My hands write what my heart says to,

My feet walk the path I want to.

My mouth speaks of words with

Love, care, and wisdom, too,

My heart wants to reach

The one inside of you.

My eyes see the pain and good in others,

My heart wants to reach out

To those in need of another.

Being single is a bit hard for me,

But I continue living through

The world around me, including poverty.

I’m a nice person if you get to know who I am,

Just trust my word.

I send this out to every woman,

But most of all,

To every good man.



Now explore my poetry,

What I want to tell you,

And discover

The heart inside of me…






MY FAVORITE POEM: Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
                 
                      -Shakespeare

SONNET 116 PARAPHRASE

Let me not declare any reasons [impediments] why two
True-minded people should be married. Love is not love
Which alters when it finds an alteration in circumstances,
Or bends from its firm stand even when the lovers are unfaithful:
Oh no! it is a fixed mark
That sees storms but it never shaken;
It [love] is the guiding star to every lost ship,
Whose value cannot be calculated, although its height can be measured.
Love is not at the mercy of Time, though its rosy lips and cheeks
Come within the compass of his [Time's] sickle.
Love does not alter with hours and weeks,
But, rather, it endures until the last day of life.
If I am proved wrong about these thoughts on love
Then I recant all that I have written, and no man has ever [really] loved.
 



Is This You Or Are You Real?

Most people love you for who you pretend to be…
To keep their love, you keep pretending…
Performing.
You get locked in an image, an act.
And the sad thing is,
People get so used to image…
They grow attached to their masks.
They love their chains.
They forget about who they really are.
And, if you try to remind them, they hate you for it.
They feel like you’re trying to steal
Their most precious possession.

                     -Unknown











I enjoy writing love poems. Not only do I write about my experiences, but I also write about what I see others going through. I am a person who takes so much heart and accepts so much from others, because I know that there are too many people out there who can not find it in their hearts to do so. No one ever looks in the heart anymore, and that's so sad to know or even think about. Your appearance means too much today, and that's also sad. But let me tell you, I don't care if you're the poorest of the poor, you are just like me, you have a heart and it's your choice of what you do with it. Anyway, my poems are ready to be read, and willing to accept any comment or critique! If you want to know more...feel free to ask!