Learn more about other poetry terms

since seeing is believing, i close my eyes,  when i hear lies, because seeing is believing...
Do not play with a girl's heart or even worse her heartstrings because if you are not careful you may mistake her heartstrings as the most beautiful of instruments and make music resounding in the acoustics of her soul
STOP! NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! I scream to you I beg you from my knees I make so much noise I cry and plead I plead to the gods the lords the people the demons the angels and you  And you all ignored me 
As I close my eyes Thoughts pop in my head No pain or hurt Just you by my side   Memories of you and I Of the past and now How happy we are Loving to share  
The ability of touch is AMAZING. In my eyes being able to feel the softness and roughness of an object is PRAISING. The extravagant foods are so TASTEFUL. 
The sky looks dark The sun comes out but cannot be seen The coughing begins The air is as thick as soup
Hear me— From this abyss, From this vast emptiness, From my nothingness, Hear me— From balconies, from hillsides, from mountaintops, I shout to you, When the world has closed their eyes
Oh the anguish I feel in my spine Everytime you tell me "You do as I say". Yes, I was in your belly for nine months it seems,  But am I your puppet that you can control as you please?
Counselor: How bout we start by you telling be about yourself ME:  *sigh* So where do it start?
I am from a small city with BIG DREAMS. I am from lost faith and lost hope. I am from pot heads and crack feens.
This isn’t some side job that you can pick up whenever you have extra seconds on your wristwatch.   The nebulas of your eyes are always looking, observing each individual
Silence flows through the air oh so coldsitting there waiting a young man so old, asking for love
The sunlight brightness my room, but yet I cant see it The birds sing the songs of springs, but yet i can hear it 
Why must happiness be so hard but grief and hatred so great? Why must we learn or except our fate I feel like crying, I feel like dyeing
I know God listens, but what of them? They hear my rhymeless poetry prayer Gratitude, Hope, Joy, Peace- Laid as a naked newborn I know God listens, but what of them? They hear without thought or compassion
The sky is the limit they say, yet I havent seen it in days. Loose paper and pen, sorrounded by men. Trying to make it through these years, with fears. Never thought I would end up here, I learned to hear
I was to young to  deal. Started not to feel. Never took the time to heal. Somehow it didn't feel real.   I was to young to see. Thought it was apart of being me.
I was afraid you'd run away. My first words, were the truth. I couldn't hear you, but you could hear me. I couldn't help but sign, and I was afraid you'd be frightened. This is me. I see you. I feel you.
It’s not until you say something truly meaningful That people start to hear your words
Subscribe to hear