Learn more about other poetry terms
Swirling dissaray The light brown and dark brown of wood. Lines, rings, patterns. (A Haiku)
A Dream in green, trying to recount a scene, a place that once was, can't, is lost. Can be found, but different. an absence of time. Resume when sense, Brown dirt, brown bark, green leaves,
I was only a freshman when I knew That life would be tough, and I had some growing up to do. Although I could hang around til dark catching up with my friends
He is thirteen Navigating school hallways and people and the nooks and crannies of his developing body But one thing he can't figure out Is what's wrong with him
Armies of men fall at the feet of Beauty, and we're taught that women are weak. Men watch their brothers transform into monsters, and we're taught that real men don't cry.
My name is Reda It means contentment in Arabic My mother gave me my name in reverence, finding meaning in a word that she could love her entire life
Dear Brown, You always follow me You always stay with me Like the sun in the summer And the cold in the winter. My brown is not your brown My brown is not his brown
I look into his eyes and See a fantasy world. Filled with unique colors... Colors not yet identified. Shy sparks of blue Hide beneath his smile. They light up the sky
They told me that I was the product of hundreds of years of pain and suffering,That from the blood of my ancestors, I was given Eyes the color of mud,Hair like a sheep,The complexion of an ape,An inherent lust,A body that should be covered,A cultu
As she contacted my eyes, her words lost their purpose and gravity, becoming dulcet echoes, gradually drowning in the mellow sea of my subconscious reality.
Some might say the color brown is boring, bland, too close to black, but if you knew, you would understand; because it’s the color of his eyes. They’re not just ‘brown’.
Hey. I am fat. Yes, I am a fat ugly bitch. Or an ugly fat bitch. Call me the way you want! But I wonder why do you have so much of problem with this? I have been tired of listening to the same thing over and over again.
the heart of the forest darkness clothing bark shadows hugging contours of tallest trees spruce and pine bark boughs drifting down sweeping needles
Milk chocolate bars forgotten inside cars On a sizzling summer day. A mahogany table on those days when they are able To sit around it to pray. Sprinkled chips of moles on your skin as you grow old
Today I saw a squirrel and I named it Peanut. I don't know why: he just looked like a Peanut, as in the name and not the food. He was squat and round, grey whiskers poking out across
You think my eyes are boring. But my eyes are chocolate lava that burns into your flesh. My eyes are the gorgeous mahogany obsidian encrusted jewelry that you will never be able to afford.
Brown boy, brown boy come around Come hear the tale of the new kid in town. He ain't no peach this fine young thing I heard he aint even got a wedding ring What so cool about this new fellow
I am my paintings Speaking from the walls Tall and strong I am more than my traveling lauhter echoing from hall to hall My earth rich skin With an abudance of melanin
There's a girl in my English classwho always looks out the windowand sketches little people on the side of her spiral notebook.
Im flawless because my skin is as warm as the Sun dipped in Black. Onyx. Black Diamond. Black. Brown. Tan. As warm as the Sun dipped in Black. Trust me, I'm beatiful my friend. As warm as the Sun dipped in Black.
As I go through my day Trying to keep my head up & just be okay.
Now that summer washed away, and school is in full swing, I realized there's no time to play, or warmth until this spring. I must look beyond the gray, and look for all that's good,
Yellow, Pink, Gold I see the colors with stories left untold The vibrancy of the blue sky The pop of freshly cut green grass The oranges and the purples and the reds
Mom is white. Dad is black. So what does that make me? Mixed? Right.
Brown baby girl With your eyes wandering wildly I cannot shield you from the world I cannot stop you from being yourself But I can tell you what I think you should be
You looked at me and said, “I hate my eyes that are dull and brown. They are not blue and pretty, They are sad and make me frown.” I looked into those deep brown eyes,
I am a Brown Skinned Girl Constantly being judged Thinking, is it my eyes, my hair my long brown curls
I've never been led the wrong way Never been lead astray Your brown eyes take me on a journey To another demension I mesmerize thinking about us What we could have
Once again Autumn is upon Leaves are changing, colors blossom trees nestle into their winter shell Year after year, I've always viewed things with such blind eyes just a tree, just a color,
This land has been alterd every corner i turn i see my people suffer the fire in our soul heavily burns. we've been building a land for generations a place founded by love, peace and communication
It is the color from which we rise The color of rich soil from a land uninhabited and fertile That soon became home to innovative civilizations The Americas’ first mathematicians, astronomers, and writers
Billions of blue oxygen molecules, suctioned and spinning down, a pair of gasping lungs, bunching into airy bouquets, perfumed with honeyed breath, I lose mine.
Brown skin like the deepest of mahogany,have the deepest of souls but it's a shame that they don't know ...just how much there worth. They've succumbed and let the world get the best of them then let the ghetto have the rest of them.
attacked, chained and forced on ships brought to a land to face hardships there is a light shining above us illuminating our many shadeds of brown unique souls and great minds that shaped
They are scared, they fear, they suppress my uniform They demoralize my people because of what we represent Just because of the way we communicate, look, and express ourselves