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You just saw the girl walking in the hallway with tears. You don't know who is in her home, You don't know if she feels alone. You just saw the girl walking in the hallway wiping her tears.
Poetry taught me how to be proud of myself When I used words that expressed things heartfelt A message that I believed in. Poetry taught me how to express Things that I couldn’t naturally profess
Death is a woman, But how could i know it? She doesn't fall in love, But she sure doesn't show it, Death is my oxygen, After too many amoxicillin, Is there better advice?
love is just not my thing. maybe it never was. And never will be.
Dear Graduates, We are born of the world. So introspective. So divine. Yet we tend to lose ourselves in the struggles and daily routines,
Would it mean the same in words If I took your hand in mine? To glance across your sleeping face Or rest my head, benign? When we say, “I love you.” What forces make it so?
Of the many things wrong, I find this one to have a grip on me, strong We need reform Let us perform A societal change Refute the strange
I reached out to the sun, but he burned me No matter how I approached, I was scorched. The sun seemed to burn brighter each day for months I wanted to be close, to feel the warmth
You say you aren’t important as if you have to mean something. As if simply your existence isn’t enough to satisfy your search for a purpose. Because, let me tell you,
Midnight I hold my head in my hands and I let my thoughts chew away at my spirit Click click click My fingers fly on the keyboard The work is never done I’m unimportant 11 10
i nestle my toes beneath a quilt of powdered rock and i am remembering; feel a cool breeze rustle the hairs on my burnt neck, remembering;
To catch a glace of the twinkle in my mother’s eye. To hear the soft sounds of the night. To hug my father close and tight. To smell my friends cooked joy though beans and rice. To cut, and share taste with a knife.
What would you grab if your house was on fire and you had thirty seconds left? What would you take if you were lost on a deserted island?
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.
With your eyes so deep blue and the sight of your lovely pale face. Oh, you don't have a clue! It feels like I'm with you in space. You've taken my heart.
Is it okay to be yourself in a world where each person is a reflection of someone else? Individuality is not an original equation from a single person, but an
I am not dumb I am not stupid I am not weird I am not useless I am smart I am witty I am fun I am pretty I am important
Your body is not a temple; it's a tree. Equipt with branches for limbs and leaves for all the little in betweens. Trees are meant to grow strong for years and years with their roots consistently reaching further.
I. There is no such thing as too much sleep.So when your eyes are heavy,Let them go.
Woken up by morning light,
Love and Respect
Shy is the Strong Mind Forced into the Unkown World Yet Eager to Thrive
Everyone is asking who I want to be. No one is seeing that I'm already me. I'm tired of putting up with all the bullshit and lies. I'm tired of people trying to change me with their cries.
BreakawayThis illusion I've seen in my expressionless faceMirrored hate at a being that doesn't have words, and never existed outside cruel minds that ought to have been left behind
The lost get found
I am an artist.Some people would say that 'artist'is synonymous with 'creator'--I am not a creatOR,I create AND keep on creating.
“It’s not depression,” she assures me on the phone as she worries to me about her boyfriend. “It’s worse. It’s… consuming him.” I want to tell her of how she has no idea the depth of depression
To be heard in a crowd full of peopleis like looking down from an airplaneWe are all ants hereNo one is differentEveryone is the sameWhen I speak do you really hear?
Instead of playing house I used to play home.From the age of four I never questioned the perfectionof the woman in white that hung near my bed
I t ’ s a l l a h a z e. A B L O B, a b l u r. n t I’m u c r a n. e i
This poem may be rough because it is my first ever poem, but that doesn't make it any less valid. God's love is amazing. I am tired of people thinking Christianity is full of people who are cruel and hippocrites.
Give me a second to explain, Give me the letters to explain. The world is vast, as is my mind. I try to find what is in front of me. But the sheer truth is that I cannot find.
I was just 19 when i finished highschool and didnt quite know if i could get into a good school. The ambition I have put me on a higher level then my peers making me realize that i can make it without having fears.
Next to nothing, my image sits still in your mind. Still, But hardly there. Eventually a thought you'll bear Will bring me into the light The sun of day will touch my Truth
A million fiery feet are a spring storm, Tiny black school shoes scuffed up by the street
It's a feeling of suffocation weighing down on your chest inability to breath inability to ration tears continue flowing "You're not good enough." "You will never make it."
A job equals money Ain't it funny? But there goes your time An asset most prime. Don't want to sit behind a desktop When my body wants to shoo-bop A job like the Grease greasers
Ding, ding, ding, ding, Car key turns off,
Like ebony feathered ravens --squawk, caw squawk-- beaks sharp as talons talons sharp as hawk’s They prey on the weak, the strong, and the brave, the boisterous, the silent,
I sit inside our little white box room Without windows, inhaling the mold. My classmates and I are filled with gloom, As the arctic AC makes us catch cold. We beg and we plead for funds we need
“For Lexi Brain”because you are something specialand I see it in your eyesespeciallybut not restricted tothe time on FridayI thinkOr Thursday
When we feel submissive and torn apart, the devices of rythm comfort our heart. Our perfect knowledge of reason and diction bring about our sanity even of lies or fiction.
For you I would climb The highest mountain peak Swim the deepest ocean Your love I do seek. For you I would cross The rivers most wide Walk the hottest desert sand
Writing is fun Writing is free Writing can be done by you or me. I can do it You can do it Anyone can, just stop and sit. Take a moment To express your thoughts
My bible tells me Love is kind, patient, unselfish, and hopeful That it keeps no records of wrongs, never gives up and never loses faith