free form

Learn more about other poetry terms

The trail I walk is Well-traveled, yet familiar to none. Clouds can creep in, inviting Unwelcome storms From every direction, heard And felt Deep inside me.  
Her mind His body Her attitude His ambition I crave what they have What they´ve worked so hard for I want it so I´ll fight for it My inspiration is competetion
Her mind His body Her attitude His ambition I crave what they have What they´ve worked so hard for I want it so I´ll fight for it My inspiration is competetion
Inspiration.    A lofty word   That tries to paint   The process as   Beautiful,
Fuckin tired of tip toeing around my own thoughts. Pen to paper only producing monotonous words of heart felt jibber jabber with no moxie. It's like I rode a wave that broke and left me 
Peck. A stolen fire. Rip. Humanity’s freedom. Shred. Your salvation. Tear. My Heart. Scratch.
A blank screen, with simple line, deleting and rewriting itself constanly. Nothing but negative space waiting to be filled with words and ideas of a madman. deep breaths of silence come
What is wrong with certain words or how it is used? Around the world, all people have languages. They also have words that come with them. Certain words and certain uses of words cause harm.
I open my mind's lid like the drawer of a filing cabinet. It is the place where thoughts, dreams, and memories thrive. Letters of knowledge organized just like books in a library.
Roses are red. Grasses are green. Doves are white. Sunflowers are yellow. Oranges are orange. Eggplants are violet. Jeans are indigo. The world is blue.
Dear Moonlight,   The way you glow through the blinds in the night. It makes me feel like you waited for me. Kissing my forehead to help me go to sleep in my bed. Making me yawn and rub my tired eyes.
As of late, I have immersed myself In the works of Ellen Hopkins. She has taught me that poetry, Does not need to be a rhyming couplet,
She died. Spoilers aside, her death was not the conclusion nor climax of the story. It was the beginning of a cyclic swoop. To him, time was never linear.
I have devils in my pocket. Two little devils. They snag crumbs from my plate, They wait patiently outside the shower, They sit on my night stand as I sleep. Sometimes they are more noticable,
The lights were dim and we were together. The DJ spun another record and under the faint illumination of the chandeliers we swayed. You spun me and I felt like royalty.
I see the light slowly filtering from above Soft arrows of luminance piercing the water As waves rock me gently  
that crawling feeling when you're feeling all alone that buzzes from the depths of your soul to the teeth in your skull to the tips of your fingers, bouncing on the keys,
i’m becoming what i hate i’m becoming who i fear hanging on another day holding out another year  so three cheers for self improvement
You don’t get to have me
You can’t have me anymoreI take a deep breath
Everything is okay
KindaI’m scared
I feel trappedBut there’s no reason for me to be scared anymoreYou can’t get me and you never will.You monster.“Is this what you think of me
I was introduced, through the limerick, To writing poetry, I knew every trick But my teachers found I would rather go in the ground Than write another limerick   Then they introduced
I stir emotions up Into an explosion of sensation. I am Color, Light, Life The beginning of something that has never existed before.
I have attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder - inattentive subtype a.k.a. ADD which means my mind works differently from most
A crystal clear glass of water, pure and refined
Wake up Head out
The smoke lighting up the distance Danced from the corner of the room Soft, warm, deathly. In this moment the harsh darkness Does not matter. Sinking into the seat as the light Caresses the shadow.
Teachers Why don’t you stop lecturing And listen for a change                    Maybe pay attention to the kids in the back row Who might have some scars to show And goes home to cut and feel low
She sits alone In the dark Trying to find the light In the only thing she has ever known In her hand she holds a knife It’s her only escape from the world Where she’s all alone Innocent child
If you existed, Would you look at me as a future image of you? If I prayed, I would drop to my knees and beg and plead for you to be shielded, From the twister,
I live inside my own head where there is a garden and no door “you let the garden wilt & rot” “I wanted to,” I said Doll lips upon the petals trying to breathe life back into the garden.
Why write poetry? Why bother at all? Now, it might seem like it's going to rhyme like I just stepped out of a story book, but it's not going to tinkle; it's not going to be pretty
  I was having A pretty better-than-average day at my well-paying job Repeating my pleasant cashier script to my mostly-pleasant customers Pretending all of life’s boo-boos don’t exist
The silent urgeTo end my lifeSearching for bloodOn my skin with a knifeI do not flinchAs the blade runs deepBlood spilling overWith a painless creepAnother cutAnother tear
 “You can never win” Society roars They seek for more More is what they yearn A sudden fill of whispers fill the air Not ever so rare You can never win Tears protrude
I will lay down today, and my world will melt away. Let my heart lake flight. I wont even put up a fight. I will watch as everything goes black, with a fear that I lack.
  Awake in limbo, finding solace in a chrysalis of quilts and sheets, a chill slinks under the door, and curls up next to me  like you once did. 
Day goes by without knowledge of it Day goes by just living it Day goes by doing what we know and love Day goes by doing what we can to stay who we are
I crave a zipper from forehead to navel easily yielding so I might slip from my skin like water through a sieve. I seek a means to peel my skin in measured strips until it lies like petals
It always seemed dark and cold whenever she thought about it, How was she supposed to live her life now, he was all she had? As she left the church where her father's funeral was held,
I fell in love at a young age with the way words danced off of tongues and paper and made people feel things they couldn't feel on their own I wanted to make people feel, too
The most coveted houses have cliffs off the back. Ocean cliffs. cliffs that are not just for jump -ing but that is what the rocks below are for. My state is shaped like a mammoth.
Subscribe to free form