Do so many people actually write poetry, looking at their experiences? It's kind of hard to believe, man.
Damn sent this to facebook and it deleted itself?
Now I must write it all over again:(
Pretty Little Narcist
See your reflection in that lake, that you...
Broken Glass Mirrors
I am a shy mental mute
Who rarely ever likes to distribute my feelings
And as if being different was bad enough
I was an outcast
I still have red marks and...
I see our Family
The way we used to be
The love and empathy
The dream went on
Going day by day
But what hurts is what we never got to say...
I was good for awhile,
I really was..
But then I started thinking of everything we were.
We used to be the best of friends.
Now I feel like we were never close at all. Even in...
My leather wings have grown so large. Sharpened horns make me ready to charge. Though I've decided to let you leave. It doesn't mean I put my heart on my sleeve.
Because I no...
Why are we so obsessed with perfection?
We're all gonna be old in the end.
Even if we don't die old, we'll still look tired & used.
Everyone gets abused, in their own...
Words, what are they?
Are they sweet like a kiss from a baby?
Are they like swords used to slay?
Are they honest like the change from rain to shine?
Cold like a winters sky...
Sometimes it is better not to utter a word,
And just open your ears up instead.
For often we learn more by holding our tongue,
And listen to what others have said.
It happened many years ago,
And though not gone away,
Time helps memories fade a bit,
With each new passing day.
I was very young and wasn’t used,
To all of life’s...
What a fool I was
What a fool I was you see,
To think this land was truly free.
As the darkness threatens to consume me,
Smoke and fire's all I see.
Close your eyes, open...
MY FATHER’S HANDS
My father’s hands, were strong and firm,
But also rough as well.
He used them for the work he did,
And you could always tell.
You could see the calluses...
There's great truth in poetry disguised as sex and sex disguised as poetry.
I have read at many poetry readings and have published a book of poems in the last year... I still fear sharing my work with people. Whether they will hate it, or steal it, or not...
someone asked about Slam Poetry so here is an example. Thanks for bringing this to my attention...awesome message from a lovely, vibrant, young poet.Wild D
I find myself saying things in conversation that could be mistaken as poetry. For example, I was talking to someone, and I randomly typed this out of nowhere.
"Have you ever looked...
Poetry is taking an ache and making it sing
This is not my usual poetry.. This is me being raw before I explode.
Leave me in peace.
How can you expect me to like you when you unknowingly fractured my own ability...
I'll make you a man
l'll write you a song
I'll breathe you in deep
I won't do you wrong
Trust me baby
Because I'm not her
I'm much more honest
I'm much more pure
I don't write poems often... But I put all my heart into it when I do.. It's intense
What Would You Do:
I'm finding it harder to hide in myself.
Things I wouldn't say keep escaping my mouth.
I'm afraid I'll slip & say it out loud.
I'm not even sure if i have the...
Your name is drama.. Yet you are clueless to the autonym.
It bemuses me..
Doesn't amuse me.
I find it mundane..
Are you do vane to think that my world should revolve around you...
I'm sorry if you think this is horrible. I don't think this is the best I've written myself.
Strangled by a Curse
Cries shatter the eerie silence
Lonesome tombs, at rest but...
I don't believe I lied
The moment I denied
Saying this can't be true
The day that I lost you
How could I disengage
As my heart filled with rage
Blaming only myself
With my life...
Falling down, is my best moveMany times in life, I've fallen downand found myself upon the groundFrom this postion I can seeso many people just like meAll of us had other plansbut...
When it comes to love
I’m fairly new
But there is no one else i want
I love the little thing
You’d do to make me smile
I was scared to love again
Although it had...
The pretense of circular reasoning paints the eyes
a misty shade of dull.
Eyes that view, from the dragon perch
of a counterclockwise carousel,