Learn more about other poetry terms
It's hard to believe that we live our lives within a 100 mile radius It's hard to believe that the world is 25000 miles in circumference
Here the boy sat writing for his future. He'd hoped it would all work out yet the standards have been set by the the past. For the boy was not the magnificent Walt or Dickens himself. Yet he still pushed himself,
You said you'd always be there but now you don't even care. I have no no idea who you've become and it's not just me you walked away from. It's yourself you gave away
Oddly enough, I'm weird. At least that's what they jeered to my beard as they peered, while my honesty reared with confidence clear, and hints of fear. At least that's what they said from their box
Tick Tock The robots The screens The rotting forgotten dreams They're back in the house the grey building of academia and hysteria
Excellence That's what we all want To be the alpha dogs To be the best The greatest And sometimes It feels essential Like we need perfection in our lives But the truth is
She walks in a straight line Her shoulders puffed up And the look of thought expressed upon her face The ideal teen A model citizen She seen legit Or at least she appears to be For she is a robot
I live in a world full of black and white imagesOf bombings a violence acts so primitiveShades of gray mask my decisionsBecause a world without color makes you blind to it's messages
Deep within the shadows there's a me you've never seen She hides within the darkness shrouded in endless mystery I keep her locked up nice and tight she never sees the light There's just no guarantee
We say we have it all planned out but do we really know five years later will it be the way we thought it would we both know we don't want to go in all alone but are our dreams leading us upon two differńt roads
I am a solitary girl In my own little world But other people Were always in my way My parents tell me that I am a free agent I will never tie myself Down to a guy
Intouched we see a heart that beats bounces to him where the sun pure bleeds never touched but seen In touched we see there in sleep odor of crys there in pure heat
The music in my bloodIt is a drum that keeps on beating
I am not who I should be, The way I put the me in mean, Hurting those who on me lean, Lord you must help me. Being this way, a jerk To those who look to me, Lord please set me free,
Red roses, Blue skies, looking at the sun, hiding behind that line. Late nights, early mornings, all apart of life, studying to win that prize All A's, No B's Trying to make them smile
My captain, Where art thou? The plank thee walk so freely Down that narrow path, overboard. Thine eyes they must deceive me.
A mask, is not just something you wear on your face, it is what can covering up the true you, Why wear this mask? Why do I wear mine? I wear my mask to hide my fear, my fear of failure.
It's amazing how many people you meet in this life. How different they all are. How attatched you can get to some, Or how you detest the actions and quirks of others. Then when you experience a loss or gain,
To support her life, she had to sell herself. She spent those long, horrible hours with strangers. With no respect from her peers or kin She had to eat her food out of can made of tin.
The story of life goes like this.. When you're young , life is so exciting and full of wonder As you're in the backseat of your parent's car you wonder why the sky is blue
Don’t all people hide behind curtains?Ones that appear physical, invisible,Some even palpable.
Mighty or Minion By Mary Nguyen The leaves were falling, time was ticking
My shelf of secrets is tucked away behind a black veil Never to be discovered if I'm in control
Life's got me drinking,smoking,dreaming, and hoping wondering if the world has a spot open
In reality, I'm a very cruel person. I don't like to show it though, for I'm afraid it'd scare others away. I have little to no sympathy, I cannot empathize with others at all.
"Pay no attention to that man beind the curtain." Why? Does he not have a story to tell? Often times, we hide behind an image so appealing to others, we tend to loose ourselves.
Butch, fag, dyke, homo It hurts to hide my feelings
I have been taught to fake a smile, to fake a laugh, to fake a conversation to fake me Holden Caulfield calls them phonies, I call them regulars. Why must I conform completely to be accepted?
“Congratulations Mamn. She is a beautiful young girl. She will be called Jane 727,690,843.” Brown locks in frenzied curls Frame a round face Diamonds shoot from dark brown eyes A giggle surpasses rose lips
I walk into the room, no one looks up, I stand just outside the group, no one seems to see. At first I think, "It must be me." Then I realize, it's you.
Conforming, following the example set by your peers. Assimilate, DAWES, the norm. How is something so expected of the young adolescent so bad to actually do? You get accused of: copying, faking, being one dimensional.