Potential
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Roses are red, Violets are blue. You are my friend, that helped me get through. When times were rough, you healed my scars. You will shine about the rest, and our love will forever be ours. Never wanting to hurt, pretty as a bow.
You look out to the sea,
and see the horizon,
where the known meets the unknown and chases into oblivion.
you get the feeling there's more to everything,
more to the sand that swallows your feet,
I see your glittering eyes
and the crinkled skin around them.
Your joy is a spark of love
that will soon flame into passion.
How I envy your delight
and the way it motivates you.
Reflecting upon my other self-
Possible me, potential me,
Smug smiling bastard what-if me
I cannot mourn a better self
Who can say which of us lived- was born,
There it is
The Door.
You know the one
You pass it every single day
This time, though
You stop and look
Just briefly
I got a lot of potential, but I just can't seem to break the seam,
Greatness gleams as I step on the scene, a prodigy,
Prolly mean that the product of me is God in me times a part of me,
The most beautiful blue sky comes after a day of rain,
The most beautiful art comes from a place of pain,
Some of the wisest people we claim to be insane,
These worldly people are evil, ice reigns in their veins,
It emanates from you.
A paramount aroma. One so compelling we may be blinded by it.
Like a bat who's lost the ability to echo-locate, only guided by his scent.
“If you can speak you can sing,And if you can walk you can dance,”She used to say.We all would laugh behindOur handsAnd raise our eyebrows, neverBelieving, because we wereToo clumsy,Too busy,
A tree stands still.
It grows from a seedling,
A small little thing
destined to be something great.
A tree stands still.
Waiting for it's turn to shine.
The Me You Knew I Could Be.
The capabilities I doubted,
my potential I laughed at.
It was like you didn't see
a nobody.. simply worthless
Not worthy of your continued support,
Through the dark and vile came the light awakening a brumal beast. With hands like fire, virtuous fingertips graze upon the unrest of the cosmos singeing all connections that once restrained it as human.
The cieling fan runs quietly,
The hound snores at the screen door.
I sit and I chat over coffee
With a guy who can be so much more.
I enjoy these afternoon conversations.
Have you ever heard the story about the rose that grew from concrete
The one that everyone thought its growth would be obsolete
The one everyone thought would wither and die
The earth sits, bare.
How it wishes for there to be
One to bring water to the deserted field.
Let the seeds of the beautiful flowers and trees
Grow and grow until the bareness
can no longer be seen.
Worries worries worries
Who is he with?
Why didn’t he tell me where he was going?
Is he lying to me?
lyrically
let her try to emasculate gold
dare him to evoke it
watch as they burn at the edges
becoming glass figurines—hollow to hold the sunlight
dance among the menagerie of light
Sometimes I feel like boiling water Left on a high flame I will eventually boil over Or dying flames Left alone I will eventually fade Both of course are inevitable But I am much more then these analogies I am made up of more than my negativi
I'd like to give a base for my deviance
And like the Founding Fathers
I'd like to site my grievances
I see all these people with their heads in the sand
Wondering why they're lost and saying
She was an artist,
She was a beautiful, lost soul,
Everyone knew she would change the world,
Except for her,
She did not know what she would do,
She did not know her potential,
The potency of a poem
An omen to thought provoking
More pungent than potions
More hungry than the wolf is
Ancient, long before the Romans
I am not a poet.
You are not a poet.
I am a lost soul with an imagination that demands to be seen.
You are a creature looking for words that fill your aching void with a sense of
belonging.
Quiet desolation
Unborn innovation
Plateaued potential of the mind
As simple as a sentence
16, following my dream ima young Ryan Reynolds
wallowing in low self-esteem wanting to scream,go nuts kill everyone at the scene
no desert eagles just a pencil,mutant genes like deadpool
Mistakes never made, lessons never learned
Promises often go unfulfilled, multiple bridges can’t help but get burned
Expectations set extremely high
Young adults who can’t help but arrogantly comply
Hope
A blazing fire within my soul
Motivating me further
Inspiring dreams
Creating purpose
Hope
Keeps my soul from withering
Like a flower denied rain
I am nourished as long as
There was once I felt lonely, and at times I felt hopeless.
It's in those times I wondered where you were or where you went.
Those are the times I needed you most, why weren't you there?
He’s an alcoholic.
A genius, but moronic,
Meanest when he’s on it. Sedentary,
Practically a-biotic
As his eyes drooped then widened
He would take another shot
In the back of darkened corners
I want to float away,
on the wings of butterflies,
as they whisper the secrets the wind howls to them.
I want to tie a string around the moon,
and swing across the ocean,
to worlds I never imagined,
On the day of July 20, 1969
A fateful man changed the outlook of mankind
The first steps he recorded in outer space
Captivated and astonished the entire human race
Now as I look up at the moon and the stars
An inspiration of words, whispered one last time; for a crowd of mouths to listen.
An inspiration of sound, screamed with passed-on passion; for one to know, and many to hear.
This world has a lot to take in.It turns and turns stopping for no one
Tell me what I want to hear.
Give me every reason to believe that you love me just from the waterfalls of your words
So I can drown in them.
Monday through Friday I race the sun awake. Shower, makeup, give my hair a shake. I dress for an interview, yet it’s my every day apparel.
Inspired to do my best by those you wouldn't expect. High expectations given to me by those who don't provide my basic needs. I wonder how life would be if I didn't believe in grinding.
One day I'll make it big
One day I'll be remembered
One day I'll stand strong like the cold trees in December
My arms will ache
My legs will shake
and just about all of me will probably break
To be heard is to be Waldo, found at last
To be heard is to be the smallest person in any given room with the most passion of any given person
All over America, there are towns
And yet no one knows them
Except the citizens themselves
And can you blame them?
(It is their right, after all, to know the town they live in)
it powers the writer
to write one more line
it inspires the muscian
to play one more time
it rages the soldier
to take that front
it focuses the athlete
Sitting on the warm hard tiles engulfed with water and soap
Pondering about life and all of its hope
The water stops and the door swings open
Only to reveal a provoking commotion
Fourteen.
Nineteen.
Twenty.
Spain.
Germany.
England.
Parents.
Money.
Him.
Why does the universe prevent
Me from living?
I’ve lived my whole life
Who are you to tell me what potential is?
The groomed, upstart young children
Getting ever luckier
While the rest
Wait
For their chance to shine and blow it
When they realize they’re so behind
A cradle of light
Born out of sight
Glowing a thousand colors
Waiting to be fed
Waiting for more
Waiting to shine
The waves are crashing
The cradles of light
What if you could evaporate in the sky
And drift freely along the twists and turns of the winds current
Travel miles upon miles over land
Showering them with your condensed vapor
Your impression
That the world will harbor the
Audacity to sever limbs from the whole truth
Are gravely mistaken.
From now on, the whole truth, and nothing less!
And in times of future toil,
"Don't do that" a common utterance of disempowerment
A three word society on its own
filled with expectation when the first mistake was made
A sense of being unloved, peaking through a pessimistic lens of hearing
Theres Something Great In All Of Us,
Something We Dont Earn But is Born Within Us,
Potential..
Potential Change The Lives Of Others and Make A Difference In World Where We
I wasn’t born in the gutters; God blessed me with a stutter.
So I searched and discovered, in the end hurt and disgusted
Armed with this pen, dangerous on this sheet,.
Bound to red ink, this is my ballpoint period piece..
And for all the mysteries in the world
Perhaps, I am the most complex of all
If I could wrap myself in a box
I could not possibly tell if I would come in a bow
For all the tragedies in history
Poetry is not just rhyming
It's about the timing
I write when Im happy, lonely and sad
& when things are crazy and bad
It reflects of my different personalities & moods
(Inspired By "A Star Is Born" featured on "The Blueprint 3" by Jay-Z.
Written because some Stars were not mentioned)
This one is for the unsung. The unheard.
The one who never got his congratulatory words.
I am lost in the expanse of the night sky.
Forever wandering amongst the beacons of light that fill this endless Cartographer's Dream.
Waking only to forget what I have learned.
What a shame, how we all were treated before,
False accusations, people judged the color of skin.
Our potential, needs, and feelings were forgotten, ignored,
Our worn and torn shoes, no one has thought to step in.
