are
Learn more about other poetry terms
What are you doing on Friday?
Would you like to hold my hand and walk by the river?
Would you like to cradle a bottle of wine and a whole box of ritz crackers?
Isolation of my soul brought out the worst in me
The original justification for this was
Ive been hurt before so why try again
but once I got the taste of love on my toungue again
You think you are out there all alone, you are not meant to be alone.
Your heart is not made of stone, but your will is that of stone.
The voices inside on and on they drone, but you are alive and not a drone.
Swimming through water so black,My heart beats dully in its cage.Not a soul should see the crack,Splitting in pieces with conquering rage.
Water fell from my eyes
Thoughts of hope actons of needy
Crown on my head is the prize
Eating every word of God, not reedy
Consume my life with your works
Baptized in spirit an righteousnss
People are temporary
and when they go away it's scary
it's like a part of you dying
but half of you is still trying
to get back with them, get back to them
you're alone in the dark crying
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
I need Scholarship Money
Or else I'll end up in the streets with a 6 million dollar debt that not even the President can save me from.
gg wp no re
I want to create
BE
Become the current
Ethereal reality
No authentic fakery
Forget time spent
Live in dreams
Read in books
So in reach
I want to act
DO
The succulent siver
Still clings,
To the ethereal bird
With her broken wings.
At it's dying delicacy
I stare,
With me
She begins to share.
She showered me
My hope is powered
by the greatness of your heart.
My smile is fueled
by the sweetness of your words.
My mind is functioning
with the help of your rambunctious emotions.
“Muse, where are you?”,
I wonder.
“Muse, what are you?”,
I ponder.
I think about you all the time.
I contemplate your existence.
Are you here or are you there?
I find myself insecure when I look at myself without any editing.
I'll feel as if I am discrediting...
..as I compare myself to other girls,
I believe that I am not beautiful to the whole-wide world.
i hate my scars.
they are not lovely,
they are not bravery.
they dictate my life.
they tell me what i can wear,
where to go
who i can trust,
who i can love...
I want to be happy, but happiness is fickle,
Because we're only promised pursuit
Not joy on a platter:
As the population grows,
Every human being becomes less important,
Of less concern to the person next to them.
One day we will have found a solution to running out of resources and created more,
to speak but cannot form the words that would fulfill my thoughts desire.
to gain freedom but scared to face the breakout of war against another.
yes, yes this is how you and i must feel, this is how you and i try to explain,
The feeling of depression bogs you down,
all the negatives are collapsing over and over again.
No one is there, and no one can help,
No one knows you, and you are all alone.
The table stays
the wood is grey
a light sull yellowed
tingy yellow brown
when on the bench
the hobo sleeps
the homo weeps
the political correctness steeps
and for weeks and weeks
I feel like you look for messages engraved in the cliche
i don't like it
but it seems to work.
this is straight forward.
i miss my metaphors
tired and hungry I can't help but wonder
The biggest question that will remain a mystery, is who are we really supposed to be or become.? yes we all have dreams of becoming something one day, but that doesnt mean that is who we are called to be....
what are friends
are they lovable or are
they like a sneaky vampire
in the night and gonna bite you
when you are not lookin? well i say it depends on
the person you become friends with
God save us: everyone
We're a band of sinners living life on the run
Responsibility and morality ride hot on our tail
For freedom and happiness, we set sail
Welcome, to the world in which we live.
Every one of us is looked down upon,
Antagonized,
Rendered as a menace to society.
We are undefined by words alone, the ones who stand, the rolling stones.
They will say stand out in a crowd and try something newBut heaven forbid that you actually do.
A reflection
I am fat.
I am ugly.
All of these imperfections.
I need to be perfect.
I don't eat.
Fat equals ugly.
The mirror tells me so.
My reflection stares back at me.
Disgusting.
When you shake my hand can you tell who I really am?
Or is it in my voice that makes you understand?
For all you could know I am the girl next door,
Or maybe even the girl that you have labeled the school whore.
who is we
where does this we reside
is it the same place as where we’ve come from
have we progressed at all or is here to comfortable
are the chains to comfortable
what if harriet tubman was afraid of the dark
Black, White, Asian
Indian, Native, Mexican
all given titles
by who, not our creator
but by his creations
In a Nation obsessed with
political correctness
His creations; Are Not Very
