Poems from tearkneee
Writing poetry
happens to be
the way for me
to live happily.
Oregon, 17.
I play guitar, paint, draw, play video games and eat.
one hit
two hit
three hit, four.
I've been called worse names before.
five shot,
six shot,
seven shot, eight.
in my mirror I see a face...
You're sitting on bricks stacked haphazardly upon one another in the heat of the August sun.
The place is here, the time is now.
Behind...
You cannot hide the feelings.
You cannot crumple them up and toss them in the trash like you do with a love note that failed to love....
A setting sun, a rising moon,
Air thick with definite doom.
The sting of a mighty iron beast,
Rings through the sky without cease.
The day...
An ode to the immature and the unworthy.
Spare me your frivolous troubles,
For your qualms bear no validity.
To bedevil me is to make a...