soo sad to be soo smart, but always fall for the line
knew it was wrong, but still tried to make it right
so i ended up alone ,needing you every night
the thing that hurts so bad also hurts soo good
my pain was my pleasure n u were the one that understood
don't mock me with your tone. Don't sift through the mistakes I've made, don't ask me how it goes.
It seems to me you've seen it all, your fortunes well in tow. But you're blind to the most certain fact, there's always room to grow.
I wrote my heart out
The battle in my mind
I have fought since June
The destination i get
Is the intended i hope
Should it be in vain
My heart will pain
But, the wound will heal
The pain will fade
Atleast i tried
This little ambiguity just flopped out of my head and onto the floor...unfortunately, I picked it up and now I'm inflicting it on you poor, unsuspecting folks.
Let me also add, with the deepest apologies to my favorite poet of all time: Dear Robert, I may borrow your rhyme and...
And one could tell by how he walked he'd drunk more than his share
He staggered on until he could no longer keep his feet
Then stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.
Later on two young and lovely girls just happened by,
And one says to the...
I am constantly wondering what might happen if you knew that my smile isn't shatter proof, that my love is overwhelming, that I am human to my core and that I'm scared of everything. Will you run as soon as you see the ugliness in me? Are you immune to the guiles of my...
I can't remember now if I took it because I thought it would be a "bunny" class or if it was required for my Early Childhood Education degree. Doesn't matter really. It turned out to be very significant.
The professor looked like a biker gnome: short, stocky, long white hair...
thunder in her voice.
The warning scream of a panther
as she gives you her command.
Best you heed the warning boys...
Cause, whether Storm or Cat...
You try to mess with that girl,
She'll tell you where it's at...
And after you're all wet, shivering and alone....
it seems a simple thing..
wasn't a Lamborghini, or a condominium...
A first-class trip to Paris, or even a county fair..
and if i were to tell him,
he probably wouldn't understand....
he said I should probably wash it.....
It smells a bit you see,
(and it does)
But it smells...
with no rhyme or reason, no idea what I'm going to write, and just see where it leads to?
She was a puzzle, pieces to put together
Pieces as mysterious as ever changing weather
Some pieces were missing, some scattered about
Trying to understand her, she was hard to figure out...
Both of us
Hard for me.
I loved every
When to let go.
That I won't...
Time just passing by with the blues,
Filled with ups and downs and bad news,
What is before us, do we really get to choose?
Through all the pain and darkness we look for clues,
But most of the time we hear just boos,
Is it really all about paying just our dues?
and stretch upward.
Plump, golden, lovely in your simplicity.
You imagine that maybe, possibly...
You just might be beautiful.
You just might be important.
You just might be wanted.
But then, without notice...
You’re cut down.
You're absently trampled...
this hurt I can't show, so I'll burn this page just like all those times before, it's all the same there and here, a tear is shed a smile is cracked the secret remains, entrenched in this heart, enveloping those bitter aspects of this bleeding past, A haze of confusion lingering...
found a heavy piece of wood
and thought as hard as a caveman could
until at last he understood
to him the role of King belonged
He knew he couldn't hesitate
to split every fellow caveman's pate
till on their knees they would await
King Grom the greatest of the great...
She looks down at her weary hands.
They ache from the toils of the day.
For every day they lovingly hold many lives,
Gladly being the hand of love,
The hand of kindness,
The hand of patience,
And the hand of sacrifice.
Grateful to to give...
.. by moiMusic: I will keep you safe... Sleeping at LastI promise I will keep you safeYou can trust these handsThat wrap around your faceWhen you're able to let goYou can achieve the greatest contentmentThat you know.There is no more provingIn reality or playI promise I will keep...
tried to touch it
I tried to jump around it
I tried to keep it in my art
But it didn't matter
The thought was gone
Gone with the wind
Gone for the day
I really tried to jump
for the lark
He collects from the circle
and takes the walk
He's the fastest
and he has ID.
Soon the circle
will be comfortable
and somewhat blind
and the bottles will empty
and rabbit runs again
Stacked lines on bridge mounts
and graffiti on concrete revetments
than a person
Facebook...the dream was singing to my art
I decided to write bad poetry
It fitted my mood of the day
Facebook - oh so clever
An open book
Full of secrets
For all to see
Secrets for you and me
Joy in my heart
Pain in my art
Millions of users
Tired of these holes in our backs from carrying these burdens of the past,
Tired of the people who judge what they cannot understand,
Tired of feeling guilty for standing up for myself,
Tired of standing divided,
Tired of the superior attitude of shallow people,
and took all my beer
The dishes the CDs,and eight tracks ,I fear
The laptop and flatscreen a mere prolog
To finding you also carried off the dog
You done me wrong you deflated my ego
Was that any way to say,Adios,amigo?
I spent all of thesse days in a semi on the interstate
Weary and worn out, I don't know where to begin,
The fading sun has left a lonely man with nothing more then a shadow of a grin,
Battered and bruised and often misused,
Forever left in darkness and often abused,
Life has no meaning with nothing to lose,
Time has made its...
and hate, I dreamed a dream of my sweet escape,
My fate on a string,
My heart on a ring,
My head in my hands,
The time through the sands,
The world became cold as I watched you bend and fold the tattered pieces of my life,
With tears in my eyes I realise it was all lies...
When they write
Dis. joint. ed
Random flowery words
Space them like
Like a cluster that is meant to be
They call it poetry