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Roses are red violets are blue when i look in the mirror i wish i look like you i stare in the mirror for about an hour and a half i hate the view i stare and start thinking of you wishing i was just like you
It’s all about the presentation. The way you present your poetry can make or break the poem. A poem written by a below-average 4 year old can sound beautiful coming out of your mouth.
The stairs The looks The blank expressions. I feel the eyes on me, I feel watched, I feel judged, I feel scared, I feel silly, I feel paranoid  
No matter how many times I tell myself not to, I can't stop myself from watching it, And everytime I do, I am always left feeling like my heart took a hit.
I live in a castle upon a hill. Well, at least that’s what I thought. I actually live in a beat up hut upon a hill. Everyone constantly looking up at me, 
Sometimes it's hard to admit it, but sometimes you need to accept defeat, And that the future that you thought you were heading towards ends up not being so sweet.
Sometimes it's hard to admit it, but sometimes you need to accept defeat, And that the future that you thought you were heading towards ends up not being so sweet.
Insecurity Wont leave my mind Words appear Like paragraphs on train tracks Rushing by Creating imagery  Of past memories
Poor ugly little girl burn your lips with perfume you mistaked as lipgloss Poor naive little girl just because he said how beautiful you were  you have him the key to your now broken
Even the prettiest girl still think she's ugly, what is beauty ?
look in the mirror can't help but see someone who feels such terror they'll be loved by no one   study my reflection I find nothing attractive crooked complexion
When you wake up in the morning what do you see Gourmet style breakfast or a flatscreen tv? When you see your reflection Is it really perfection 
When you wake up in the morning what do you see Gourmet style breakfast or a flatscreen tv? When you see your reflection Is it really perfection 
‘Why do you care so much?’ asked the boy with a Pepsi clasped in his hands, which was previously deemed lesser to Coke in a strange conversation at eleven thirty-two
I look in the mirror Reflecting back I don't like what I see Group of girls besides me Looking pretty Why can't that be me?  They try to reassure me I see the lies through their teeth 
My heart is heavy asking will I ever  be good enough for myself. When I look at myself why do I peer through my reflection like it’s nothing?  Like I am nothing. Even when I say I am good enough and 
A bird with a broken wing  Its memory of greatness;  A stretched canvas of warm embrace Air cut by swift blades of persistence Unobtainable freedom by many, While the few idolize their grasp of identity:
Oh my heavy heart Racing heart Defeated heart.   Knees weak Eyes bleak   And oh how desperately I seek,
Mirrors would always tell the ugliest truths Reflection found in front face camera or frankly placed in front of bathroom sink faucets fed the unacceptable attributes Unallowing any filter or photoshop on face or body
Sometimes it's euphoric Drunk with pride and confidence On my high horse Looking staright ahead Other times a 180 turn occurs Hell on my mind It's dark, I'm timid
Sometimes it's euphoric Drunk with pride and confidence On my high horse Looking staright ahead Other times a 180 turn occurs Hell on my mind It's dark, I'm timid
Insecure souls,Walking on their own dead bodies,Emotionless, coz they don't care, even less,
my head is filled with thoughts of i'll never be good enough of i will never be as beautiful as the model on the magazine covers i always see.
Dear Inner Me, Why do you hold back? Your thoughts, Your words, Your opinions, Away from view? Sitting on a fence, Uncomfortable, Unable to express. To feel anything,
You. My biggest enemy, Me. Always tearing myself down Covering myself with layers upon layers of, "Perfection". A mask to hide the demise of my courage, my confidance. That word..
I am Lonely. I am an Outcast. I am Sad. I am Embarrassing. I am a Reject. I am a Loser.
Driving by the bar, we looked out the window. Three discarded pumpkins bobbed in the stream. I looked at my brother--five weeks after Halloween.  
You show me who I am And more importantly who I’m not. You show me what I don’t have More often than what I’ve got.  
He thought he could chain me He thought he could, Would, Should, Break me. Little did he know, I've got chains and scars of my own. Of my own doing,  They were. Each little scar,
imperfection is a pimple. an irregularity, red and raised in the middle of your face when you are 11 to you it is unfamiliar so you buy concealer
Surrounded by laughs and smiles While I just listenOnly my ears are openSealed lips shut Words can’t be spoken
INSECURE behind a safe face  hiding behind humor hope you all laugh  laugh outside, inside who knows look to the left dont look me in the eyes look away cant see you today
Why does he give me false hope? Why did he say “I Love You?” Why does he make me feel not good enough?   Can’t he see I’m fragile?
How beautiful it is To live everyday breathing the warm/cold air of mother nature I find it fascinating how we simply are living. Look at those trees; so tall ,with many years
Tired of imaginingTired of actingOh, how I wish that was meCat-fishingIs now existingMirror, mirrorWhat is my birth error?Is it my looks or personality?A shame that I desire plastic surgery
At the start, She was kind, beautiful, free. She was individual, unique Better than she’d ever been. Then, near the middle, And more towards the end Her self image began to bend And bend
They ask why you're so quiet It's because you have nothing to say But with that they won't buy it You just want them to go away   You can speak colorful words Over the white noise that you hear
The only lying I would do is in the bed with you at my side.I thought we had a love to last forever and your heart was trying to hide.I let you penetrate my mind but you were looking for more.
  She walks  with her head held high, Without fear of the future,  Letting the insults and rude comments, Brush off her shoulder like a child going down a slide.    She glides, She waltzes,
 Sitting at lunch among my group of friends All of them, laughing until their hearts content Their smiles so bright it seems they never witnessed hardship
everything i dois always done better.and i understand--why you'd rather choose her. 
She looks in the mirror and what does she see? A girl with a lot of insecurity   Her thighs feel thick and her stomach feels fat and she believes nothing will ever change that  
Can anyone love me? Would anybody be willing to withstand My horrible insecurity, The side of me I hide? Would you be willing to tell me  It will be alright, When you know I don't believe you?
Heavy once again Sorrow permanently Permeating Penetrating Over and over The insecurities  Stab like darts Tears well up  Out of nowhere Leaking and spilling
I see all of these poems, Lengthy, Tall. But they win. They get all of the Scholarships. And I write short poems. Simple, They take up one page, max. Is my style too short?
I am numb to the words in my head all the time, But I'm still feeling lost and lonely inside, My friends can have fun and live their own lives, While I'm stuck in the mirror feeling broken inside,
Yes, I know I am tall, yes I am over six feet. The truth is that the air up here is no better than the air down there. The air up here is still plagued by pollutants and marinated in a pool of empty dreams.
I sit there in silence, Alone in the dark, Listening to the soft hum  Of the words that float around In a familiar and gentle sound. Staring at the empty room before me, Wondering where I went wrong.
she doesn't talk about how her dad leftimmediately after finding outabout her existenceshe doesn't talk abouthow her mom ignoredthe not so straight lines on her wristshow she was never confronted
This is a curse not a gift So what is my mission this is a skin condition   Not one of my ambitionSo now here's your time to listen   When people look at meand ask me what is on your arm   I change the subject they should find some respect Not try
 "More, more" they say, "More, more." These voices won't stop. This emptiness won't be filled enough. "More, more." These voices continue to say, "More, more."  More of what? More friends. More money.
Zero days without flashbac
Take the picture.  Too high.  Too low.  Just right.  But what's wrong? Your nose is too big, Your smile looks weird, And your hair looks bad.  Take it again. And again.
People always make analogies Saying birds are free; they want to be birds. What is a bird? Nothing more than hair.
My mind is my gift I use it everyday  From making good decisions  To deciding what videogame to play    Though being on Honor Roll  and seeing the world in a diffrent way 
Slumber. Crema. Ludwig. Aden. Perputa. Amaro. Mayfair. Rise. Hudson. Valencia. X-Pro ll. Sierra. Willow. Lo-Fi. Earlybird. Brannan. Inkwell. Hefe. Nashville
Look, look at me  note what you see. A smile sweet,  Small blue eyes, Which cannot meet  Your steady gaze.   Do you, do you know My efforts to show Confidence?
"Who is that?" you ask as you stare her way. shes changed so much. "Why is she like that?" you wonder everyday. "Look at her stomach!" You say, grossed out. She hates herself
No one hears you crying when you're suffering in silence, Covering your mouth, doing all you can to hide it. I know you're not going to last long, trying so hard to fight it. You ask me how I know?
Reliance on your reflection in the mirror
To the ideal,
I am not too funny Not delightfully clever I am not beautiful, Being that my face does not inspire poems or ballads My tall lanky frame is not the object of envy When I walk into a room no one stops and stares
Lure them in with your evanescent gleam. Bind them into your eternal paradise. Throw their hypnotic nothings to the wind. Craft velvet wings from jewels.  Your primrose shimmer must never dull.
Is my nature free? I will not laugh nor shout And engulf in reverie   And then I say I am the sea   The moon the glowing orb Is a friend to some but not the swirling sea
Who am I? The one cowering on the floor as the crowd walks by Fear rips through my body The anxiety tears at my heart with its needle-sharp nails My breathing increases as my attack starts
Those comments you left 
You see a teenager. Day to day, smiling awkwardly at those who pass.I see a little girl. Sitting all alone, trying to hide her face from those who look upon her.You see a senior, attending classes, not paying attention.
I am tall I am short I am fat I am skinny I am depressed I am black I am white I am foreign I am bald I am rich I am poor I am strong I am weak
If I pull back the curtain Will my mask then accept the form of mannequins Perfectly styled and positioned Only showing the best I can offer? Will my true self remain hidden in the shadows
Cocooned. Trapped   in lucid pristine existence. Sheltered, Hidden,   from troublesome reality. Delicate wings, You stretch them to fly,   but ensnared by the inexperience,
Theres two of us hereOr maybe threeI don’t know anymoreI stopped knowing a long time ago. Or was it recent.But it doesn’t matter because theres not just one.Thats bad.Right?
The wind dances through my bones like chimes,
Betrayl seems something of the sort
Girls like her, they don’t feel. That’s what you tell yourself. Vicious is how one would describe your words. But that doesn’t stop you from typing them out.   Without blinking you press enter.
I want to hide right now, and never come out. I want to cry a river, quietly. I don't know what to do, and I don't know what to say. I'm just sitting here, looking around and feeling alone, like a loser.
I smile in the mirror, I see something wrong. I have pimples, My hair is damaged, My mouth is too long. I say to myself: You're ugly, You're not loved. But I heard much different,
  It’s all gone. You took everything from me. (Or did I take everything myself) My family, my friends… They slipped away. Vanished. Under your mind games. You cost me my life. My future.
Are you different? Are you alone? I know my answer. Are you a clone? Life isn't fair, Just another tragedy. In which losing Is the only strategy.
The media controls how beauty is defined, He may be a follower, or he may be left behind. I give you the test, the one that tells in time, How you may be judged, or aren't right in the mind.
The sky is clear, but in this cage it is hard to notice. This cage that constricts me from seeing beyond the bars is unbearable, and I am unable to set myself free.
All of my insecurities sprout from flakes of old skin; they beg for the sunlight’s attention from underneath my quieting hands so that they might bloom and become a loud thing for all to hear.
I tricked him. I tricked him into thinking he loved me. No man would have been able to love me based on his own accord. I tricked him.
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