Onomatapoeia

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Don't. Make. A. Sound We grope in the dark On one step there is the laser grid. Flammenwerfers the next. "You sure this is the way, Xolotl? Might as well turn on your flashlight"
There’s an old phrase that states if only these walls could talk.
Sizzle, pop, sizzle, sizzle, The butter in the pan, Cooking the bread to a perfect golden brown, While the cheese melts slowly   I flip with a smile,
a generic ringtone, a sound foreign to this 2am hour a beat as we freeze, glancing down, and then up "hello?" a motion towards the bottle clink, pour, swallow "things aren't looking too good" a pause
School. Absolutely not. "GO" I heard Him say So Large Too Large "GO" Lonely brain in an extroverted body "GO"  I went. Wait... She likes the same things as me?
Ab-by! Ab-by! Ab-by! Why was this so necessary? Why couldn't I live my life in the dark Green Goop. Red Chunks. Onion Bits. Cilantro leaves. Guacamole. The class chanted and screamed
The fresh breeze drifts through the window, the smell of lilac and honey trail behind. Through the trees, the breeze flows, across the smooth surface of the lake.   Calla Lillies and Roses float on the water,
Two little girls at a garden party, One in green and the other in blue, Their mothers scoff at each other and the fathers criticize, Chaos admist in this slice of prepubescent summer, Blue spits on Green,
My life is full of complications Especially when it comes to education I like to paint and read But don’t have the time to dream  
Dear World, What happened to your warm hugs? Blessings from the universe above? What about that vision that one day we will all unite? But now… all there is are disunity and fights.    
Dear Grandma, I'm doing fine. Thanks. How are you? ... How long has it been since I last wrote? Couple weeks. yeah. ... huh? ... Like really wrote?
Constance—You don’t contradict your name.You are constant in your wavering waysYou wave like reeds in the dry summer air—If the winds reeked of tobacco, and the reeds werewithered and frail 
When I was eight years old, I wanted to wear makeup: Bright red lipstick like my aunt wore to leave kiss marks on every cup I drank from. But daddy said, "no baby, wear all the cherry Chapstick you want
There lived two people long ago who sought to love more than you know. They practiced poetry all day, a song most meaningful today. It makes your heart so sorrow and gray, for the man turned out to be awfully gay.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!  Hammer Goes Clang! Hammer against steel Clang! Clang!   John Henry Irons Clang Clang Steel-driven man Clang Clang
Once upon a time, the wolf an investor was scammed By a local syndicate of insurance pigs Who got him to pay for their houses with extra to spare
Ring! Ring! -Goes my alarm as I jump out of bed, Oh go the ache, what is with my head. Thud. Thud. -Go my feet on the floor, Should I wear this, or? Splash~ Splash~ -The water on my face,
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock the clock goes inside my head. It keeps me awake and from getting comfortable in my bed. When sleep comes I am sentenced with nightmares and flashbacks and nightmares.
My thoughts on America have changed But there are thoughts that still remain Diversity in this country is as beautiful as ever Sit back and listen as I write something clever
#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM#BLM  #BlackLivesMatter#BlackLivesMatter#BlackLivesMatter#BlackLivesMatter
The torn and battered flag waves In the scorched heat of the plantation hovering over the slaves that build America.   Bent bare backs walking the fields 
New York is the city of screaming nights, The city of dreams and blinding lights, Of taxicabs and honking horns, Where some dreams die, and some are born. New York is colorful and alive.
There's a ring in the air A whoosh of the wind breeze taking you away from your computer's' ting ting and a reminder bell in my brain clanking "finish me Serafina" finish before you fail
Beep!Beep!Beep!Beep! Bursting through the darkness.  I open my eyes. To see the sun rise. Now I know it's time to go.    
Mirror ,Mirror, On the wall U know we can't look the best of all Is our imperfections an mistake  That we have to cover up everyday. Are we really in denial to have ourselves to blame 
Mirror ,Mirror, On the wall U know we can't look the best of all Is our imperfections an mistake  That we have to cover up everyday. Are we really in denial to have ourselves to blame 
Roller coaster- Ian “wordsmith” Munywe
As you listen to the pulse of the music You can hear the fight for equality A place of our own A safe haven Invaded by such hatred The immorality  To end mortality  The pulse of the music stops
here my eyes slowly blink i'm not sure what she's saying the mechanical pencil in my hand clicks to reveal some lead   click click click i break the thin cyclinder click click click
The smooth escalator gracefully gets me to my favorite store.Gosh, I hardly use stairs.Where are the newest pair of shoes?Hooray! They have my size! 
"Write a poem due by my desk on Friday," he said. I looked at the assignment and wondered if I should have just fled. Putting my annoyance aside, I sit down and put my pen to the paper.
I believe in winning I believe in crafting words to spit fire, breathe venom I believe in the acceleration of heartbeats the iambic pentameter of a
Poetry is how I express myself. No longer a little girl with a diary. now with poetry I can express my life It makes me feel right. Writing washes away the pain and adds some light.
Stuck in a place where my thoughts are lost, trapped trying to escape. Seeking for something that I once had. Trecherous thoghts vauleable things that I once had were stolen from me never to return.
There is one thing that comes to mind. The one thing that I cannot live without. It is not something I am proud to admit, Because its use is not kind. Its something that would make anyone pout.
the storm has settled.
And he dipped his hand In her dying sea And filled it with a galaxy Straight from his heart Undying, overflowing-ly
Prancing around Lillies marked the destination of a new place. Inside of a cave I dropped my bag on concrete steps and sat ontop of a hill from the wooden old house. Washed away by the wind were roses, sunflowers, and rabbits.
It is the tap-tap-tap of the woodpecker blending with the back-n-forth squeak of the rocking chair. The cicadas sing (maybe for fun; probably not) and drench the yellow afternoon air.
The grass is always greener when you think of something that's sweeter When you are dealing with rough times think of something that's always nice   You are the creator of the greener grass
Pwt
Closing the lockers, I head to class. I smile at friends and laugh at jokes. A normal day really. The clock is ticking, counting my last moments. Of course, I don't know that.
Rain pounds away and the thunder pounds louder still.-click-I sit on a an old wooden chair staring out the window in an empty room.-click-
Rusted, small cages  is where they keep them locked up, until one day - POOF
As I walk through the funhouse my image changes
Despair and hopelessness are like air that fuel the lungs of people who believe in nothing, As they lose their light they give in and surrender their soul to darkness,
Boom! Bombs going off, houses catching fire. Aaah! As the soldiers yell across the land of the earth. Crunch! The popcorn smashed in the midst of my mouth like a garbage disposal.
Because of you my mom doesn't talk to me, She's too busy pretending to be who she wants to be. For the words we can't convey,
I feel nothing, nothing at all No stress, no worry, no pain  No pressure, no hurt, no strain 
Drown out the thoughts with sound, even when they ask me to turn it down.
I let you in, you built a wall.  I lifted you up, you let me fall.
Excuse me sir! I didn't mean to stare
With candlestick, pen, and paper A youth my age formulates music that continues to amaze Generation after generation.   Here are bonafide works of art.
Bum ba dum ba dum He talks, beating on his chest like The common idiot, trying to convince the world Ha! You fools, living your silly lives! You don’t understand the little things
Who am I? Well according to the blood Falling from my hands- I'm rage driven, easily excited by the uselessness of those around me, That I find myself slipping glasses from my grasp
I am a young,vibrant,hilarious,positve african american young man ,i believe life is best in its origi
I am a young,vibrant,hilarious,positve african american young man ,i believe life is best in its origi
I see the clouds coming, overhead is a large storm. The thunder cracks, causing the shaking motion of our shack. Grandpa rocks in his chair, and reads his book,
I'm flawless by the curve in hip
Bang, bang. Tattattattattat. Life volunteer, path sacrificed. Not the way you saw in shows, Not books or movies either. Stories never could account For the internal siege here.  
What am I When I am not a thumbnail An emoji A jumble of pixelated parts? What are my words When they escape from my mouth Unedited Unscripted Unable To be deleted?
  Home is gone gone... My home is a sunset going away down in the dark going splish, splash in the puddle of tears splish, splash, stomp, whin. trying to not say goodbye.
Snap.  
Click Clack! Sweat was sliding down my face Bang! I was reflecting about the actions taken that wiped me without a trace. Now, I am looking down from these white cloud skies
a past coverd by inkwell black and white memories and a preasent full of unfamilar faces  who am i? unplugged i am glowstick; a light in many colors and shapes  My feet are as smooth as my words 
F or those who lose sleep over the opinion of sheep, L ose a sene of self-respect. A dmiration for the things I have done W ill never define who I truly am. L eadership fuels my body on a daily basis, however
Confidence is key but no one ever taught me how to achieve it. I learned it on my own by realizing other opinions won't make me any different. 
I was sittingIn my classroom
This is an attempt. An attempt to get it through the pretty little skulls that Just don't understand. BANG!!!
hello rabbit as you may have concluded by now I am lost deeper than the caverns of the doldrums never before have I ever in my entire existence of since of been born ever needed to summon t
Ping ping the notification of a like The sound of satisfaction The sound I strive for    Recognition of my hard work Picking filters, using quotes, hashtagging Making sure the world knows I'm here
Slam.  Mommy is lying on the ground. Daddy threw her there; I saw it from behind The wooden banister which I wrapped my stuffed snake around  Only three hours before. 
Sweat rolls down my cheek in the shape of a tear.
            As I sit here, staring at the blank page before me, Looking at the blank white wall and outside windows to the horizon before me, Hearing the soft, melodic sounds of music,
I`m sitting alone in my room. Corgi flopped out on the floor He`s snoring, sounds like a motor boat At least it would if I weren`t jamming out On my banjo Piggidy, ping, ping I ignore good sense
Boom, Boom, Boom; The music consumes.  I breathe it in; I melt at its beat. We are one.   Thump, Thump, Thump; My feet pound the ground.  My father and I;
BING. You hear the phone on the dash- You knew that you were driving, "But I'll be done in a flash!" A ping and a pop- you send a text to Mr. Dop. BUT LITTLE DID YOU KNOW
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