[Birchwood Hollow]

Height: 11.3hh
Gender: female
Owner: xXxSherubiixXx
Equid Name: Soliloquy
Equid Age: 3
Poem:
We mortals
Never could comprehend
The change in the world
Our love has not been sent.

Change comes and stays
Yet we never know
That we are change's slaves.
Bounded by the single bow.

Dark become light
Gray's become black
And the forever gone whites
Are now slacked

We will never understand
How the change flow goes
We are not its friend
Forever its foe

[Zax]

Are WIP forms accepted?

Owner: Zax
Equid Name: Rhythm
Equid Age: 6
Poem:
Life is a swaying tree
Within the gusts of hardships
These hardships make people change.

Change is a baying wolf
Howling its feelings abroad
Capturing the moon's watchful eye.

Eyes are windows to souls
They reveal the dark and light
This is what makes people alter.

Life is a swaying tree
Within the gusts of hardships
These hardships make people change.

Hardships take us all far
Into the gloom of darkness
Or bring us into a new light.

Hope lifts us up higher
Our height makes us change again
For good or bad is not known now.

Life is a swaying tree
Within the gusts of hardships
These hardships make people change.

Through this lesson we've learned
Hardships are changing our lives
But life makes people change much more.

Life is a swaying tree
Within the gusts of hardships
These hardships make people change.

She represents the change
The everlasting cycle
Of who we are and who we'll be.

Her pattern runs rampant
Like the changes of ourselves
That arise during our lifetime.

She is a baying wolf.
She is a watchful moon's eye
She is life, hardships, and changes.

She is a hard fighter
She is a graceful keeper
She is our nightmares' nightmares.

Life is a swaying tree
Within the gusts or hardships
These hardships make people change.

Written with occasional internal rhyme and 6-7-8 rhythm. Sorry it's long, but I had to complete the loop.

[.infinite.]

Owner: Country Strong
Equid Name: Aredessa
Equid Age: Three and a half.
Poem: Why do people change?
Why do people change from dark to light?
Or light to dark?
Even and pure?
To pure and evil?
Just like my blazing brindling patterns.
People, humans, others, can change into other, more or less wantful things.
But I?
I remain the same.
Unlike my patterns, I remain pure.
I remain the beautiful, talented Equid I am.
Evil shall never cast their shadow over me.
Only I can be me.
I am unique, pure, different... In my own perfect and splendid way.
Only I can be me.
Others may change.
I remain the same.

Sorry if it's... Stupid and wantless. I can't do poetry!

[.infinite.]

I did mine based in Hiw her bridling gets darker to lighter, as if light were things good and lure and dark things bad and evil. Just so ya know!

[~*Waffletastic!*~]

Owner:
~*Waffletastic!*~
Equid Name:
Nakai
Equid Age:
3
Poem:
Pure black brindles fade to grey,
All the colors die away,
Grey has covered the night that's black
oh, colors how i beg you to come back,
Why has meaning of life come to change?
Why has our personality have to rearange?
Why can't i have you? please come back?
Oh please, oh please, Let my colors come back.

Like my brindles, the world has become jagged,
the mane on my back has become ragged,
How must we live through this fight?
many wish they were as the birds, who take desperate flight

[Ellie Marie]

Owner: Forever-Alone 333
Equid Name: Silver
Equid Age: 6
Poem:

Why do people be so nice...when you meet them? They act so nice,kind, and polite...then as your friendship grows so do you both and they begin to slowly, ever so slowly turn on you and then people...you realize are so judgmental and mean it's like they tossed you in the trass to be forgotten and lost...

[Bast-et]

Owner: ~Bast~
Equid Name: Chardelle
Equid Age: 4
Poem:

Like the beginning of brindle,
Life begins in white;
Like a child born to light.
The early years are clean and pure,
consist of love and life's an open door.

Yet the nature of life is change,
from known to awkward to strange
and bit by bit the colors change
the brindle shapes rearrange,
and what was known becomes the strange

White yeilds to gray
as your eye begins to stray;
purity in childhood grays as well
as the realities of life begin to tell-
the hurt and pain, the heavens and hells

As dawns go down to days,
so whites go down to grays,
and only deeper is the change
as days go past the days.

And brindle stipes change too,
the whites will change their hue
and only darker will they grow
the lower that you go.

The teenage years are darker still,
their grays reflect the deeper chill
the angst and confusion in the core
while light clings to the outer shore.

And then gray will slip to blacks,
once you're gone you can't go back
get rocked by dark seas
and long for the lakes in the past.

adulthood is same to the cold dark gray sea
a heartless, relentless mistress is she
she saps your strength, tries to steal your soul,
but that light; it clings to your outermost core.

And now stripes are close
to the love-hated black
all the wisdom of death,
but the life that it lacks

And so too have humans come close to their death,
the gray is now withered, light leaves by each breath
but the wisdom that's gathered by the time black draws near
is worth even more than that bright newborn's tear.

And then the stripe ends
the fates cut the chord
and down falls the life
into black's dark dischord.


(That was a bit darker than my first poem, but it's more on topic =D
Life begins like the white at the top of the brindling; pure, thin, and with no direction, blown by the wind.
time passes, and death grows a bit clearer; the white is light gray, and the purity of innocence has begun to be corrupted by the realities of life.
As we follow the brindling down, Adulthood is darker still, and the weight of life heavier. The warm peaceful lakes of the past are replaced by the cold demanding mistress of the sea.
and old age is almost black; ironically lit still by the knowledge and wisdom gained through the years. But death comes closer with every breath, and the poem ends in death, as does every person.)

[Larkspur1678]

Owner: Larkspur
Equid Name: Lucid
Equid Age: 4
Poem: People change just like the colors of my bridling
They can be dark from birth but find solace in light as they grow
Others are light but dark corrupts them as they are engulfed in shadow
Why must people change?
Can't they stay the same, even though my colors rearrange?
Corrupted by greed or led by light
They are both changes, which I do not like
Why, oh, why must they change?
I guess they just like to confuse me in their own twisted way

[Caretta]

Owner: horseangel23
Equid Name: Audrey
Equid Age: 3
Poem:

The wild beauty in an untamed force,
will always move the soul
of those who wish for the freedom
to be able to take a chance.
Sometimes just the sight of a beauty like this
can cause the soul to be startled
and to change its very core
and the reason of it's existence
all at once.
But for most who desire
for a change like this,
the sight of the beauty
will often make them ponder.
Debating the markings, the meanings, and
the reason why,
they are even there.
As they ponder, day and night,
a hidden meaning will come,
and then they will see
how it was meant to be.
The soul will seem to sense the reason why,
and will begin the change all on it's own,
but it will only bloom
when the mind acknowledges
the change.
Perhaps if it was not for this wild beauty,
some would never see the truth,
and lives would never be forever changed.
But the beauty of life is the change
that happens everyday.

[Potato.]

Owner: J e s s i e
Equid Name: Melody
Equid Age: 4
Poem: Us as humans are blinded
we only pick out the good, and choose to believe it is all great,
we never want to believe or are too stubborn to accept the truth as it unfolds,
the truth that not all things are good,
and what is good,
will eventually change.
All around we yearn to believe that our siblings, friends, even passer-bys' on the street,
are good,
we remember the good things, we keep a grip on the good things of one's self,
till we are faced with the hurtful, angonizing truth.
That us humans, we do change,
like the wind on a warm summer day,
changing the day into a bitter coldness that chills to the bone.
And when we wake up and realize this cold bitterness,
it is too late,
we are trapped, trapped by our blindness.


Aha, my attempt. xD I know very little about poetry.