for those who like to put in a poem...
feel free to do so...

be inspiring or inspired...

came across this...
its kinky...

Square Root of Three

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun,
as 1.7321
Such is my reality,
a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

I see you've watched Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay...haha.

Yea man. that show was so cool. i watched both parts in a row!

Endure
by Bobi

If I can endure for this moment,
whatever is happening to me.
No matter how heavy my heart,
or how dark the moment may be.
If I can but keep on believing,
what I know in my heart to be true.
Then darkness will fade into morning,
and with this dawn a new day, too.

not really a poem , but rather a famous song in wow regarding paladin.
the paladin in WoW is famous for the skill called bubblehearth. Technically it means that pally would open its divine shield (immunity to every shit spell) hence the word bubble and use it hearthstone (something like a scroll of town portal) when it is faced with a very hazardous situation. Its guaranteed to port u to town and out of danger.

the song like this. (sing to the rythmn of 'im a little teapot')

I'm a little pally , short and stout.
Here is my hammer here is my mount.
When i get beat up i scream and shout.
Up goes my bubble , i hearth out.

cute right ?

eh where u hear this from, i nvr heard it b4 leh. and i play(ed) a pally

Drifting
by Kit McCallum

I sometimes find I'm drifting
Through this life without effect;
I often wonder if I'm truly
Worth what I've been blessed.

I search through days that have been hard,
To try to understand,
The many trials that I have known,
The life that I have had.

You see me in my daily grind,
So confident and strong;
Yet when I am alone, I question
Just where I belong.

I often try too hard I find,
To analyze and guess,
To scrutinize, investigate
My life I will confess.

For somewhere deeper, there must be
Some meaning to this life,
Some way to make a difference,
Give a reason for this strife.

Is there some hidden meaning?
Some agenda to be found?
A greater purpose waiting
If I care to hang around?

It teases and it taunts me,
Always slightly out of sight;
A hazy vision out of reach,
Where darkness hides the light.

I struggle to bring clarity
To what awaits me there,
And yet this weak illusion
Always fades before my stare.

It seems the harder that I try,
To focus through the haze,
Just serves to add more questions,
Through my endless, tired gaze.

Perhaps I'm trying just too hard,
To understand it all,
For can we ever truly know
Just what we have in store?

Each incident, each moment passed,
Just adds upon the next,
But in the end, will I find truth ...
Or will I be perplexed?

Perhaps I make it harder
Than it has to be sometimes,
But will my searching bring to me
My meaning over time?

Or will it leave me broken,
And confused as I feel now,
While questions bring no solitude,
To this, my wrinkled brow.

In Times Of
by Kit McCallum

My soul drifts aimlessly in times of hopelessness.
It searches tirelessly for meaning and truth ...
Yet finds no direction.

My heart bleeds quietly in times of loneliness.
It yearns to find warmth and happiness ...
Yet it somehow eludes me.

My eyes seek out visions in times of want.
They gaze endlessly through the blackness that envelops them ...
Yet they cannot see the light.

My ears listen earnestly in times of silence.
They search for familiar sounds to comfort and console ...
Yet they cannot penetrate the darkness that surrounds me.

My arms reach out frantically in times of despair.
They seek strength and compassion to enfold me ...
Yet they find nothing substantial to enwrap.

My mind cries out desperately in times of solitude.
It poses intense questions that demand answers ...
Yet there are none to be found.


***


My hand reaches out earnestly in these times of confusion.
It dials the number of a familiar and calming voice ...
And gratefully, my lifeline to sanity ... remains intact.

eh, meow ar, those are song lyrics or wat?

poems ah boss...
poems...
hand-written...

My Gift To You
by Lonely Shadow

I live through my dark existence
only to bask in your beauty
your eyes that shine like sapphires
your smile that brightens even my sad existence
I envy the wind that runs through your hair
that touches your lips
I long to touch you
to hold you in my arms but I cannot
for your heart belongs to another
so, I can only love you from afar
your friendship means more to me
than anything this world provides
but like an angel you touched my heart
in a way that I've never felt before
cause I've never known what love is until this day
I know that we are only friends
but my heart wishes it to be more
so I will still hope and dream
that one day I can feel your lips pressed to mine
to hold you in my arms and say, "I love you"

Saying Goodbye
by Anthony West

So soft
the brief touch of your lips
on my cheek.

Was I almost intruding?

"Look after yourself "
should have been
"I love you!"

Then the Jumbo flew over
my head
and I shouted my love
above the roar
and thundering thrust

. . . as if you'd hear.

Through the clouds in my eyes
I watched you fly away
and wished I'd been born with wings.

wAHHhhh....

Meow, neber noe you so shi qing hua yi...
use more of these can jio gals liao ma.

The Robot
by Michael Mack

Upon the stairway of despair,
Complete with broken love affairs
And promises that never came,
But faded with a touch of shame,
A pretty girl with golden hair
And innocence so sadly rare,
Strove to keep her head above
A way of life devoid of love.

Feeling pinned against Life's wall,
She chanced upon a robot tall
And said, "Please come and share with me
Whatever Fate has deemed to be.
I'm through with love, done with chances
Spirit crushed by past romances,
Just be a friend in word and deed.
That's all that I shall ever need."

"There's not too much from me to learn,"
Remarked the robot, in return.
"Emotions do not form a part
of my cold, solid-steel heart.
Whatever maker fashioned me
Did not permit my circuitry
Responsiveness to love or pain -
You're thoughts for me would be in vain."

"No matter", spoke the maiden. "No more
Do I wish passion to explore.
Be someone I can come home to
When my exhausting day is through.
Count yourself a well-worn shoe -
A friend that I can slip into . . .
Protection from a stone cold floor . . .
For this I ask and nothing more."

Agreement made, he took her hand
And lived the life that she had planned,
Always willing, not demanding,
Aiding her with understanding
He made her smile with humorous wit
(As his restrictions would permit)
And, bit by bit, she came to feel
That he was more than iron and steel.

"I love you, robot", she at last
Replied when several months had passed.
"You're strength and quiet dignity
Have brought a wondrous change in me.
No more do I feel all alone,
And pray you must be flesh and bone.
Deep-set emotions you MUST feel
Within that outer coat of steel!"

"If I were able, I would say
I'm sorry I was made this way
But my design and programmation
Does not provide for that creation
Of feelings normal men may feel
That were not born of iron and steel.
I told you all this once before.
You have no right expecting more."

"Go, then!" cried she. "I will not live
Beside a fiend who cannot give!
Though I be battered by misuse,
Misguided trust and strong abuse,
At least the men I chose were real
And had the power to love and feel.
Of all the lovers I recall,
You are the cruelest one of all!"

The robot, indestructible,
Continues freely and at will.
Emotionless, apparently,
But, bearing closer scrutiny,
One can see a small tear streak
Down that cold, metallic cheek
As I reflect upon my life . . .

The robot, of course, was me.