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There’s an old phrase that states if only these walls could talk.
"I'll never be as good as..." Shut the fuck up, and pick yourself up, For God's sake, step the fuck up, And be somebody new.  
my body might not be strong enough to be a shield but my mind is undeniably a sword my voice summons me to the forefront and the world is my battlefield—
so it happens again in the dark when the hands are Touching, Grabbing, Choosing, me 
What are your Words When they're not Written With "me" in mind?
Why is it That a ninth-grade Honors English teacher has to tell thirteen, fourteen and fifteen year-olds Not to look up ideas for a slam poem assignment Why is it
Is it okay to be  yourself in a world where each person is a  reflection of someone else?    Individuality is not  an original equation from a single person,  but an 
All I really need is me.   Just me. I am not conceited. I am whole.   If you were to remove me from society
Tell me, Who Am I? Am I the one that no one knows? Do I go like the wind flows? How am I to know who I am? Who am I without my friends? I am Me, Just the way that I like to be.
I Am Paint splashed onto weary walls That have stood over centuries of the normal person. Spots of color to prove I am different Than the rest  Splotches that don't blend in With the rest
I'm myself for the world to see, but the world disapproves. I observe others mimicking their actions and trends, but the world laughs at my attempts. I ignore the world,
A young boy studies pre-med   to become a doctor, he said   Back hunched over facts punched   in his mind, courses never too kind   That was once a dream of white coats and stethoscopes
Before the mask an urged facade we were shamelessly us but they found it odd   An idiosyncrasy  among their "perfection" trying to fit in  there was a disconnection  
Like the stars effortlessly twinkle against the roaring engines of travelling planes through the night  
I walk alone sometimes. you may ask me how i am, i will say that i am fine and i will ask if you would like to walk with me.   I walk alone sometimes. it does not bother me,
I must wash away the innocence,  Shoot the scared in the skull.
For Losing shall I ever be Great      Losing long nights of pain  Before they found her Quenching the thirst of my innocece Saturating my pillow from sorrow       For Losing I am Confidence
Who's wild and crazy A girl who's set free someone who listens but can talk to those in need
Have you ever met someone, More perfectly broken? Like the singular shattering, Of crystal glass. The sound strangely beautiful. The sun shines knowingly, Glinting off each precise fissure,
My shoulders are drooping underneath the heavy weight of expectation. I'm being dragged by the leash of society.
Most days I don't even wanna see your face. You think everything in life is always a race. If it was then I would win, even though I'm not tryin'. How does it feel to always come in second place?  
I fight I write I conquer.. with my words Ain't that something? I'm mighty fine, alright.   I have a message: You best be listening... You know why you're living?
Be original Be you Love thy self And be true Yourself is real Yourself is cool Yourself is beautiful F*ck all the haters Who try to destroy you You're original And thats good
riots of words ruining these dissolving brains sometimes giving up doesn’t seem so bad.   too many suggestions, fifty-fifty-some sounds so right the others all wrong  
Verse 1: We taint the air with idle words Cause sticks and stones hurt the most What’s a jab to the bird? What’s a duel to a roast? Shoot….    
Our art has no real meaning behind it And if you ask us, we’ll say “I made what I wanted, you tell me why” Then we’ll leave it with you for a collection of dimes So carry it off, this piece of culture emulated
I won’t let thinking paralyze me, make moments  mere drizzles of joy. Life has a lot of things to ponder, but happiness is something I shouldn’t ask myself about.   Then why are sunsets lackluster,
Tell me how I was exactly like him Tell me how I am not original Tell me someone has already done that   Everythought has already been thought Every word has already been wrote
Originality is dead Our generation has conformed to the regularities of its society
Out of all twenty-six letters of the alphabet, This is all I can muster up. Her bleach blonde spaghetti curled hair and Coach bag, She must be self centered. His coal black nails and torn jeans,
If money is the source of all evil, then we must be living in hell Corporate America is in control and I compare it to jail Since we are all victims to it, somebody show me my cell
Ten feet deep in eternal sleep Fell from a cliff with the rest of the snow white sheep I look up in envy of the black one who doesn't weep Lying in this red valley My body, blood, and soul Is it's
Am I influenced by the world around me? Do the things around me, change what I see? Am I nothing but a trend? Does everything I do come to an end? I will be different, I will be a referent.   
Reputations and Representations of such Are getting hard to keep up You want to fit in To be in "the norm" Yet you want to be an individual You are Trapped  
Being who you are in this day and time,  is looked on as being original  or being independent. Throw in the mix of knowing exactly what you want to do in your life,  and knowing where you are going when you die,
Why am I not considered to be a good studentor even a good person anymorewhen I receive a "B"or "C"or "D"or God forbidan "F"?
Wandering in a wood of shelves and books, Over litter, leaves fallen and gone From branches of minds the winds of time shook, For one page that remains empty as dawn, A sheet virgin white upon which to write
I tell them what I am, Try to be who I am It's not enough I'm nothing to them I am who I am. Nothing will change that. They say I'm a trashy whore, That I'm a disrespectful brat.
Heading home for lunch is the only highlight I have and it’s too long for my liking. They call me Grumpy; my six brothers know better than to bug me. I ignore them and worry about my own business.
Be yourself, Everyone else is taken, That's what Oscar Wilde said, Does he have a point, I would say so.
(poems go here) One way or another you find it ok to act as two Although the saying says to "be you" But you find that difficult Surrounding yourselves with people who are just like you, but don't love you
(poems go here) Introduction: Haven't written one in a minute, so I figured it's time to eradicate the glasses Remove the tree out of my vision and give the world the opposite of what they're askin
I am the Student, Who passes every class. I am the Girl, Whose love never lasts. I am the Hobo, Who begs for food. I am the Blind Man, Who hears few. I am a Killer,
No one knows where home is. It's not exactly where your heart is, Where you grew up, Or where you spend the most time. It's where you mind wanders the most. It's where you feel the safest
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