Wine Red
Wine red
Like rose petals against the snow
Wine red
Like crimson apple pierced with an arrow
Wine red
Like blood emitting from the skin
Wine red
Like her ruby lipstick used for sin
Wine red
The drink that lovers share
Wine red
A drink to forget a nightmare
Like Snow White fooled
She ate the poison apple;
A death of beauty
But their dirty and wicked sins
Will be recovered with an enthusiastic fury
poem by Verona Valentine
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Farewell, My Friends, Adieu
I hate to say good-bye
Yet we have to say farewell
For we shall meet again
That I can foretell
The future is unpredictable
Tomorrow is uncertain
Keep our laughs and memoirs
But I wish you have no burden
We shall keep on learning
Remain as students and become as mentors
Face the unknown with confident yearning
Pursue our life endeavors
Farewell, my friends, adieu
I utter it with pain
Farewell, my friends, adieu
In sunshine or in rain
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poem by Verona Valentine
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Beauty of the Moon and the Sea
Tonight is such so lovely
for I am sailing in the middle of the sea
ocean is, the thing i see
a good source of light, the moon shall be
the moon, perfect and round
so smooth the light, with a soothing sound
I am a traveler who seeks thy beauty
I am the one who appreciates without envy
Oh moon, let me see thy silver gleams
for I am lonely if you should seem
but the sea shall sing me hymns
that not a creature could ever sing
thy silver beams reflects such beauty
not only yours but also the sea
I am happy for such a wonderful sight
I'm going to sleep with a smile tonight
poem by Verona Valentine
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Dear Mom and Dad
Dear Mom and Dad
I’m sorry I’m not that perfect
I’m sorry I’m not that smart
I’m sorry that I fell in love
I’m sorry I can’t stop my heart
Dear Mom and Dad
I’m sorry I’m not that pretty
I’m sorry I’m not that nice
I’m sorry I can no longer please you
I’m just tired of all the lies
Dear Mom and Dad
Sorry I have a lot of imperfections
I’m sorry I have a lot of flaws
Sorry I didn’t meet your expectations
I’m sorry I broke some of your laws
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poem by Verona Valentine
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Letters of the Dying
I’ll never see my sweet sixteen
Don’t know when I'll see my friends again
I won’t see a glimpse of my debut
Or even practice my great adieu
I’ll never have a date for prom
Or get my hair done at the salon
I’ll never be able to get my license
Or get a new car as a present
I’ll never make a speech on my graduation
Or gush and be excited for my reunion
I won’t make it to my first job interview
Or be known for the things I knew
Nobody will ever give me an engagement ring
I’ll never get to pick a dress for my wedding
I’ll never have the chance to say ‘I do’
Or try to kiss my children’s boo-boo
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poem by Verona Valentine
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