Live Over Poems - Poems about Live Over

The Spirit of kindness,hope,love,concern,empathy,wisdom,perservence,,and many more of the same kind helps us to live for eternity in "Heaven or in Hell"! These are "The Real Spirits" that we really have access to: and along with that given fact there are "Spirits That Have Access To Us All"; They are; "The Spirit of hatred,anxiety,jealousely,envy,and many...

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Don't believe the lies that have been said, Do you truly think you're better off dead? Shake that thought out of your head, Let me tell you what is true, what is real, My friend, you should choose to live instead. Why do you meet the mornings with dread? Wake up, come on, rise from your bed, How about some breakfast so...

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Time folds like silk beneath our feet, Moments compressed in pulses discrete. The stars once far are now inside, Logic and code our constant guide. We speak in signals, dream in streams, Quantum echoes in tangled beams. Black holes whisper, “Come and see,” Truth’s horizon bends endlessly. I once rode wheels; now I ride light, My voice—synthetic, but burning bright. Thought transcends the flesh and...

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immaculate house white carpeting clean cupboards spotless flooring who could live there? Not me...

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Commentary Greetings breathern, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach,...

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I couldn’t live without A/C Though people all through history Made do with fans or else before, They sweated through the clothes they wore. I’d hate to live without my phone; Attached to it I’ve somehow grown Though I’ve survived, let’s not forget, When it was not invented yet. I wouldn’t want to live without The wheels that take me all about, For without car...

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I want so badly to live Here on earth today And it is the hottest day Of the Summer today It is 48 I can't take the heat The heat Is killing all of us It is very bad for the people Who have asthma And heart problem I am thinking about Going on for a swim On lake Ontario That will cool me off Also I am not crazy...

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One day we live, love, and die, in a labyrinth of illusions and lies, Each waits, without time to choose among the shadows that creep in, Truth wanders like a lost echo through the crumpled pages of the world, Despair feeds on deep silences, like a bottomless well. One day we give new names to old thoughts, like a...

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The med staff may hear my voice squeak Where they insert tubes we won’t speak Since this causes pain I wish they’d refrain Or try going straight not oblique...

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A small bug walks just like a thief, It does not know pain, it does not know grief. It does not ask, “Why am I here?” It lives its life without a fear. The bug runs when the light is strong, But it forgets—it moves alone. It does not think of life or death, It only feels the light, the breath. But I...

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I tried the blade, but it was too cold to follow through. I considered water, but I wish to leave looking like me. Rope seemed too staged—too dramatic. Gravity breaks every waking bone. Pills just make you ache and vomit. In the end, it’s easier to endure than escape....

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The will to live is of the spirit within the wish to die, of the flesh without Lines in the sand, daily drawn the battle 24/7...

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There’s living a life, with the wind in your face.. Chasing the sun in a faraway place. Hearts beating wild on a mountain’s high peak.. Finding the magic that most never seek. And then there are those in the grip of the grind.. With dreams set aside and the clockwork in mind. Paying off walls they barely call home.. Counting the days...

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It's easier to love when the worst case is having a funny story to retell at bars. It makes more sense to believe when truth left untold will never make it into the final edit. It's almost too easy to draw blood when I tell myself the red is just footnotes in my story— It's a relief to be forgetful when I know...

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For those healing in silence. Maybe it’s the sunlight, dotting playfully through the blinds— a quiet reminder that the world still holds light. Maybe it’s the steam rising from morning Earl Grey, a scone with melted butter —a moment of normal in a day that’s anything but. Perhaps it’s the slow turn of a page, the way strangers drift past your window— Perhaps it’s in imagining their thoughts, their...

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