Now That I’m Over You I can move on with my life and do all the things I didn’t do because all my time was consumed sitting around waiting to hear from you…yeah now that it’s over I’m glad and I can breath again, I can spend more time with my friends well I thought you’d be the death of me but I survived there’s only so many tears you can cry until there’s nothing but a numb and barren heart inside but Now That I’m finally Over You at last I can put yesterday once and for all in the past…I guess some dreams aren’t just meant to be but you live and learn it’s tho it goes from burning to burned but still life goes on and Now That I’m Over You I’m glad I’m relieved it’s over and it’s all but dead and gone!
Bo Lanier is from Chattanooga, Tennessee and has become an established poet with five books to his credit that were published in Canada. He received several achievement awards in creative writing through poetry.com and has recently published two eBooks and one paperback book through Lulu.com. After a nine year hiatus, Bo returned to publishing his poems with a new outlook and fresh ideas. His other talents include singing and songwriting.
Far away from the world of love, hatred and war There is yet another world breathing silently Thats the world of love we call. There holds no boundaries No caste or creed Its purely emotions swirling freely. No land is
There is no moon. The quite surrounds us. The sound of a footstep Floats across the wire. We hear noises when dark. Nothing to fear, need to relax. Frank want’s to know, Did I hear a noise? Knock it off
To conquer my desire, I chose to battle alone. Armed with hope, Strength and courage Holding weapons of determination and perseverance Struggled, fought till the last blood sheds But.. Lost!!!!Defeated!!! People say “Life is like licking honey off a thorn”….Yes
Thanksgiving never will I forget Hopping in the car for a very long ride to grandma’s house With heavy frost on the grass, glistening in the sun Singing songs and counting grain bins to pass the time Now the frost