Learn more about other poetry terms
Tears of joy in a rain of hearts. Clouds spread across the wall with flames engulfed by a passive wave. In this day I found my pain, My freedom, And my closure.
The Fighting NEVER Stops, And In The End The Battle Is Lost. I See Pain In Many Eyes, The Reason Is Simply The LIES. Many Promises Made Token, Are Soon To Be COMPLETELY Broken.
Without my glasses on, the world softens at about 10 feet. Usually it feels Constricting, Confining, Claustophobic, But today, it is my happy tent of reality.
Hearing my secrets That's still only a small part of me You don't comprehend how much life's taken a toll on me But I'm good I'm great Hearts pumping no mistake
I can't show you what I've been thru, I can only show you what I look like. I can't show you what its like to be me, I can only show you what I like. I can only show you.
dear Perception, while human life is ephemeral, art transcends all time its everlasting infinitude, exceeding the constraints of the hour hand…
The letters that he wrote me are from a ripped out pages of his notebook. The edges are not jagged , they are soft like flower petals. Maybe you only call my eyes Beautiful
She waves me on, Preoccupied, as she always is, By a diamond mirage And a ruby facade. I begin to speak, But what am I to a Queen? She has built this castle
A loose grip on a wheel Used to guide a machine A titan fist drives an upheaval of frustration into a raveen Cultural Pride is like picking sides Its hard to get out of it It will get around you
I feel ocean air when I'm landlocked, Passed through every obstacle and roadblock, There's dirt under my shoes, but it sure feels like sand, I've taken the scenic route, but I'm just where I planned,
It's easier to fool yourself than face reality. People bash on society to hide the truth. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" It's a bunch of bullshit
Infatuation simply made you appear as a personification of love. Maybe it was your skin. How lovely it was to touch your very being.How incredibly fixated I was at the feeling of my fingertips simply caressing your very presence.It was as if I we
In the dark you see light - I see the flames. That's not the Sun burning - This heat has no name. The kitchen's on fire, so I run out the door. You stop in the middle
Lids yawn to consciousness and Awaken, blind to the Mysteries of 6 am and the Shapes and colors dance like the Creatures of last night’s dreams until Lazy lenses work toward order,
Paint me perfect on your wall. Deep wine lips, erase the flaw. Pearly white teeth that I have always hidden. You’ll see a smile I view as forbidden.
You can't love. Without trust. You can't trust without love.
I'm not sure I like my reflection;He looks at me funny.There's something in his eyesThat boasts he knows me too well.And I just don't trust him-I think my secrets he might tell.
I want to be happy even if it is just for a short amount of time.Is it bad that I just want love for love, or is it a crime?All around me I see relationships turning to stone.
Ugly as the mirror fragments sealed.in a mask upon my face No, Ugly Like the shattered remains of a broken moon admist a nighttime eclipse No more No, Ugly
The cannons resound.Their deafening ringing smothers my voiceSilences my questioning thoughtsLeaves only the orders I was given.
I am a deep thinker Of the living Of the dead Of the happening Of the unseen Of the omnipresence Of the reasons Of beings that be, become, and then no longer
I am not I think I am... I think I am small. I think I am inadequate. I think I am less than. I am more than what U think I am... U think I am a burden
I am but a mere quirk in the face of billions, shifting my way down on a path that shall leave me dispersed. Times have shaped the outline of my brain, leaving me so estranged from the me of the past,
Through the glass I look Searching for some answer Faces slanted into an opaque distortion Everywhere I gaze
As I look for my new spiral notebook in the morning I see this old spiral notebook the yellow spiral notebook before that yellow spiral notebook, there were many spiral notebooks
We chase after the intangible Leaving our presence as history Forgetting to remember that we are in the Now. And in the midst of each others desolation,
The average person has one face. I have none I wear a blank mask The mask is for: Happy Sad Mad Betrayed Desperate I have no face I wear a mask
I am full of hormones, emotions, and fears. I’ve hidden behind a mask for years. Not a literal mask, like the one Phantom wore But a more subtle one—that made me seem adored.
We seem to fill up empty spaces We try to weave certain instances Being reluctant can't improve every chances, In every realm, not all the time we find happiness Be adroit as the world is changing everyday
Ruddy, thats what they call my complexion A mix of pure white and dots I am calico The contours of my body are softly proportioned a little extra here and there but I am muscled I am strong
My personal world Created by my personal senses
Once upon their time, There lived an old witch. She was old, and wrinkled, White fuzz covered dark skinned-skull, Colorful cloths wrapped her As she walked her ways. She helped the poor,
If people only realized this is as loud as I can be I won't bray like a donkey just so you can hear me. Just because I'm not boisterous and annoying Dosen't mean I'm also always boring.
The world is full of hate drenched in the cynical behavior that we come to know women are starving to achieve the level or perfecton that photo editors create children are bullied
When Blue Reflects Upon Waves I’m staring, always staring, forever staring, No focus in sight, yet a bright future yields token, Novel, arguably plausible possibilities.
I’m driving to the store. I look left at a stoplight; A girl is applying on mascara on her already thick lashes In the limited time frame that we have and I think of
A change can alter the world From the change of wind for Columbus Or a single intake of wind in a different direction If a slight step is retaken in a new way The world will shift
The perception starts young Color inside the lines! She loves to hear, What a good girl Effort turns to numbers Letters worth a grade She keeps them all A’s What a good girl
A rush enters like a veiling curtain Of cascading water; A vaporous fall, endlessly joining Aqueous substances below. Descending from a starlit heaven, How could my heart retain
A fear that time will not stop Because it won't And I have seen it pass All along So I am sure That it won't stop And it cannot, Now, can it?
He sees balls of flame and dust. She sees old souls that guide her path. I see worlds beyond all of us. They see stars, numbers, and math. He endures the dull, While she beholds the beauty.
We shackle our Feet, With Vanity and Mirrors. That bring us to our knee's, While we fear and shake with tremors. We build our castle on the media and magazines we read everyday
I am not sorry that I'm not a 36-24-36 But I do have a body size that leaves me with confidence I love my rich dark brown skin And my dark brown eyes that shines from within
I thought he was intangible He's fragile He is frozen in time He's scared He is now going slow motion in reverse His words are misguided They tear everything apart He battles his secrets
We see what we think, But what's thought is not always seen. So don't see, watch.
When my parents tell me And my teachers agree and all my friends join In their praises I can almost believe that I've done enough. Or better yet that I'm good enough but only Almost.
Look at her, look at me; its gold, versus silver, the sun against the moon. Where she shines, I am dim; saught after, and alone, the Beauty and the Beast.
My Perspective Of Life Would Be A Great Way To Change The Attitude I Have Right
Perception of beauty may be completely different from your neighbor
What would I change? Being such a broad inquisition, there could be multifarious interpretations.
Women are faced with a societal burden.
My opinions are right Anyone else's is stupid and aren't worth a second thought You’re stupid, I am smart You're wrong, oh so wrong
The serpents eye is misleading,
I am quiet because I chose to be No I do not have an attitude No, I am not having a bad day Well maybe I am, but what’s it to you? So you can say, “She seems aggravated?”
please stop placing me on a pedestal
What is culture? What is distinction?
And she realizes in that moment all that is divine and faulted in her life. She stares at what is left of her bare body all frayed around the edges: remnants of despair.
They think that I’m redThe kind of crimson that comes from loud mouths and smart remarksThe scarlet of sarcasm that stems from quick witFrom quips that taste like fire and sound like flame
I am not my reflection I am not my reflection I am not my reflection And if I am not how I look to myself, I’m sure as hell not how I look to you.
So black and white You'll never understand The smudges and strokes Of my untrained hand The lines and confines of my several binds That bind and tie lies to those who must die
I'm tired of these fucking stereotypes dictating how I feel and act I shouldn't like English I should be petite and quiet I should study, study, study Well I fucking done finito, over it
Mirrors, ©2013 sometimes I get a glimpse in a shard of glass a corner of sight as I walk past hello, girl, I can see how someone might be attracted to you. sometimes
When my shoulders sag from the weights of the world, Remind me who I am. When the darkness hides Your lovely face, Remind me who I am.
White women are as fragile as a beautiful butterfly. She cannot handle what other women can! That is why her skin is green, for her struggles are taken and cared for by a white man.
When i look in the mirror i see not me how i am but how You see me and I am Perfect
At what point is someone deemed approachable?I do not smile at your passI do not engage in conversationI simply do not care about you at all.Why did you follow me to my car?Did I capture your eye?
You go round and roundLookin' for the answersBut all you've foundIs..." "....
I am a speck. A tiny, little speck of dust floating in the wind. You are all so much bigger than me. I’m just floating, while you cater to a higher existence.
What you cannot see will hurt you. What you cannot see will bite. You fear your eyes are opening, So squeeze them tighter, Block the light. What you cannot see is beautiful.
Screams and swears Errupt from downstairs. Two tiny brown heads have heard; They hang on every word. The shatter of glass, The slam of a door. He hits his gas
We say we want to die yet we look both ways before crossing the street and our hearts speed up if a stranger is too close behind us maybe this is because we want to die on our own terms slitting our own wrists
I once had a spirit, That would cry, Livid. A soundless screamer, A sleepless dreamer. A cowardly warrior, A body-less barrier. A sharp taste of rum, A native tongue. When the soul spoke,
To hear words as music To see words as a life To know words as your own, It becomes more than spoken. But as emotions with lungs; The beauty in which moves our hearts. To comprehend words with emotions
In the heart of the city of Manhattan, There once was a girl by the name of Ashton. She was as rich as could be, As her parents were the CEO’s of a large company. Her funds were spent like they never would end,
Spread like thick mist of perpetual darkness, The harbinger, the evil, the snake, mischievous. Slithers. Spreads the black cloud of human error across the deep souls of mortal man.
You said you’d let me be anything I wanted to be… But I never could believe you When you couldn’t let me be me. “Don’t let them play soccer or football until they’re in college!”
I have a vivid memory. It's not black, darkness, emptiness, but instead, a total lack thereof, devoid of anything. I can't perceive how alone I am, if at all. Something is watching me.
Who’d know the color of my skin presents so much ambiguity in society? A different angle in the light of the city What am I today? For the historic family trees of America remain hallow at my name.
sudden realization of the sin wondering where to begin i open my eyes and see the difference yet closed eyes, in my mind, knows no resistance thats what’s important, right?
Finely shaped, Satin to fall against, Each leg and arm. Held up only, By the finest plank, Of light wood. Taking it down, To put it on, Only to disgard it. To throw it away.