A true heart I long for someone to talk to this lonely heart am I. I miss the comfort ofan affection this lonely heart am I. The feeling of being wanted, the feeling of being true. To feel companionship, Iam so truely blue. The loneliness overcomes me, andI cant see an end. For my heart and soul belongs to thee, I am but you see as a friend. Weboth feel away with eachother, so wrapped up in eachothers arms. But your heart cannot be turned, soI remain not calm. ForI am not enough for you, not enough to sway your heart. As i will always sayI love you but yet my soul is still in parts. It wont be me, i know that now. But eventually it will happen. For you have been too untrue, to her that is so forgiving. So nowI can rest my weary heart, and know that i did try. To sway you with my love so true to my unfortunate demise. ForIwill love again, and eventually forget your soul. ForI have to much honest of mine heart to give my heart will never grow socold.

Two years have slipped through the fingers of time, like sand in an hourglass, each grain a moment, a whisper of how things were. Aira stands, alone in the crowd, her heart draped in the shadows of whispers, words twisted like vines, choking the flowers of friendship, that once bloomed bright and free. In the halls of learning, laughter becomes a blade, sharp and cruel, as her classmates spin tales, dark fables wrapped in mirth, casting her as villain, painting her in shades of gray. But they do not see her, the silent storms beneath her skin, the battles fought in quiet corners, the tears that dissolve on pillows, in the silence of a night filled with doubts. Marcus returns, after two autumns have turned to winter, his presence like a distant star, reborn into the haze of her reality. He stands there, a canvas splashed with pasts, his eyes searching the landscape of her heart, the treacherous path back to trust, where footprints have faded and hesitation hangs heavy like fog. “I’m here,” he says, with a voice that trembles on the edges, a fragile bridge spanning two years, too many missed sunsets, too many unsaid words. But can he mend what others have broken? Can he sweep aside the smothering doubt that clings to her like a second skin? Aira watches, her heart in a cage of memories, the laughter shared beneath trees, the dreams woven on starry nights, now threadbare and shaky— she remembers the warmth of their friendship, the lightness of trust unblemished, but shadows loom, the echoes of betrayal rewind in her mind, and the buzz of judgment weighs heavily. With every attempt, his words flutter like leaves falling, soft and uncertain, each one a plea, "Let me in, let me try. " But each leaf also carries a weight, the history of silence, the blank pages between them, the fear of trusting once more. They walk their streets, silent conspirators in the noise, Aira wrapped in her armor, glancing sideways, as she wonders if blossoms can break through stone. Can laughter reclaim a place that was lost?

Okay, everyone, this book is going to be different from the first one. I want more involvement from everyone. I have come up with a few titles and book covers that tie into the first book. If you like what I have, that's fine we can go with that, but if you have ideas, I want to hear them, so please put whatever ideas you have in the comments. Here are my ideas

Today is the final voting for the title of the new Anthology book It looks as if everyone has made there choice but I want this to be fair for everyone. Today is the last day to vote. Also make sure you have paid to Enter the link is in the first pinned post at the top of the community.

People don’t end up here by accident. Something pulled you in… something made you stay. So tell me— Why did you choose The Art of Poetry… and what did you find here that you weren’t getting anywhere else?