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'98, 17 Man I’m only 17, But there's people always pushing me to do great things,
No such thing as flawless, perfect, peerless; Only fallen varmints grubbing helpless, Guided by old books to find redemption And some vindication from above. Perfect spirits all alike and charming,
Judge me. Love me. I really don't care. This is my story, bias or fair. I'll tell you how it is,
i tried to be a vegan once and it only lasted for two weeks because
Behind the curtains of my eyes Hides a glare A stare A lie The carefully crafted façade The fragile, cheap disguise Behind a mask lies another Feeble layer of an onion
I'm not going to start this off with the typical line of "Who am I?", because I know who I am.
i am not flawless with a filter i can become a diffrent person no more filters no more being someone i am not it is time to break away from society i am only human a beautufl human.
First thing's first I smirk instead of smile This is who I am with #NoFilter The latter done only once in a while When I laugh by cause of my mister Fond of all that is medicinal
That is what we all want to see when we look in the mirror. Perfection is nothing short of a dream.
You been through it all Hiding dirt stains Under the make up of your new self Ring your body out and there is nothing Because your emotions are ran dry
I remember The middle of November Back in seventh grade In biology We were taught to see
Roses are red Violets are blue My name is Nick But for some odd reason Some call me Nickypoo
This is my motivation. I see myself in that girl with scars on her wrist In pain, but ignored daily by family and friends And she’s told by others that she can stop anytime she wants.
Being black is Hard they say I say try being a woman
you won't find me in photographs packed in dusty tattered boxes.
Unfeeling and inanimate I am
Without the filter I am weak. The filter makes me feel strong. Without the filter I do not belong. The filter makes me feel like one of you. Without the filter I am blue.
When I was in the fourth grade I walked up to my dance teacher and said, “I am African-American.” She promptly spit out the water she was drinking and replied, “You’re half black?”
Strip me from my makeup and remove me from my vanity,
Following what society thinks is right I try to alter my camera light. This will create the most optimal picture, And allow me to avoid the tedious stricture. Pictures are only one side of me,
I’m complicated, Yet easy to read. I may be a follower, But I can easily lead. I am everything you wished for, And nothing you can picture. I’m the lethal disease,
You ask me Who I AmBut it should be I who asksWho You Are.You who hides your facebehind a maskcarved and paintedto create you nameI came to youLike a blank canvas.
Who am I? No filter flow, who am I I am an extrovert and an introvert I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing and a sheep in wolf’s clothing
I need to post an insta pic for today! Do you have an instagram? Oh, post that on instagram! Wait, not yet. I need to wait until 9 PM. That way, I'll get more likes. What hashtags should I use?
Some people contest with me about my own identity, As if I were a defined word they knew, that I was not keen on understanding.
A SINGLE MOTHER OF THREE ONLY ADJUSTING TO THE INCREASING CHANCE TO BE NOT ACCEPTING OTHERS PLANS FOR ME UNADJUSTED TO FINER CURRENCY IT'S NOT ENOUGH FOR ME TO MAKE IT BUT I CAN NOT DIE
Standing on a precipice, uncertainty resting in my throat with the ever looming promise of turning malignant. Standing in the back of the room, paralysis nesting in my hands, crawling down my legs to root me in place.
I've been lied to and cheated on, I've been hurt so many times I lost count.
I have to dress this way.I just have to; I do.All of the pretty girls wear this make up anyway.So I will start to, too.
My name is Namirah and I am known as the middle child. When people meet me they certainly don’t know I can be wild.
It comes without effort Yet it takes so much effort With the light it becomes burdensome In the dead of the night is where I find comfort. Around noon everyone seems to "care"
A picture tells a thousands words, but can you read the emotions behind each smile? Can you hear the hardships that their eyes express? My wide bright eyes that seem to shine like the sun turn to dark clouds of gray.
The days gone And I am tired I woke up refresh but now it's time to retreat into the after hours. Back into my bed sheets with no makeup on my thoughts are right there
Most people wear makeup to hide their flaws and insecurities Some do it for the hell of it
Fresh out the shower Kinky curls so soft and bouncy Flowing everywhere as it dries Creating a giant afro of curls I look in the mirror and lather on lotion I get dressed and grab my phone
No filter? No problem. I can still be as pretty, I can still be as nice!
"I" is edgy, "I" is hot. "I" is exciting, "I" is loud. "I" is daring, "I" is spontaneous. I am not "I". I am a completely different me. I am easily entertained. I am self-conscious. I am quiet. I am nervous.
My words without a filter, They are pulses ripped from my heart, They are thoughts carefully caught from the darkest depths of my brain, They are not affected by this so called casual speech that many people engage in
I want to help out someone who falls get back to their feet, I want to make a difference. I want to help guide someone who may be lost along the way, I want to make a difference.
clearly you see me; standing fierce,grinning through sweat, sun stained,salt eyed, strong.
All my life I’ve hidden behind books, But who am I without them? Am I athletic? Funny? Do I have looks? I’m searching for myself in all my brain’s nooks I have accomplished a lot in my lifetime:
We live in an age of desperation We're in a constant war but not with other nations We fight ourselves on everyday situations We're born in a bubble deprived of sensation Life made of misconceptions
A round lens glaring onward Flash, Another memory archived
Ignore the norms, that's what I do, Phones and makeup, hair and shoes. Filters I suppose I keep - I keep up my modesty, I won't swear and I won't lie; Plain and simple is my style.
I am wise, I am pretty,
Dear Social High Schoolers of America,
Who am I Behind the filter of a picture I am a man with very much to remember I have a story that is not yet over Black man living past 18 is the luck of a 4 leaf clover The story that is not told
Filter of life As humans we tend to get stuck in being who people want us to be, What is wrong with being me?
Filter filter On the phone Who's the fairest of them all?
Well for starters, I am a girl Trying to understand all of life's whirls All the while, growing up with many distractions,
You start your day off with no filter Then look in the mirror and see a flaw The flaw no one notices but you Your heart drops with insecurity And so does your self-esteem too
There’s a woman there, I can see her. She stands out to me, it’s her eyes. Something about the way she’s staring back at me grabs me.
There's words in my brain The pressure's buildin' up They gotta get out My filter gives up
I wake up every morning asking myself Is that really you? Why was I born this way? all these flaws I see in the mirror looking at myself could I change these flaws?
There once was a girl, Who talked to trees. She would spend countless hours Under their protection of evergreen leaves. Her mind would wander,
It's the way she walks, It's the way she flips her hair, It's her voice, her smile, her laugh, It's her ambition, her edge, her confidence, It's the fire in her heart,
A world filled with color has been replaced, the image you long to touch has suddenly been erased. A vivid imagination when making colored creations, a world different from ours that couldnt be put on paper. But who am I?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Will I ever be a
I wake up praying I don't & I fall asleep praying I won't awake .
How does it feel to be trapped behind a screen? In a world without dimension where perception is key. We iron our hair and puff out our lips in hopes that they don’t see What’s real?
I'm naked, I'm vulnerable. Having no angle, no light, no control, I'm doomed to the undenying horror of my reflection.
The world is just one masquerade. We hide behind masks of color. The color that disguises our true self, And makes us perfect for society. No filter shows my true self. The imperfections in my face, They are no longer in a guise.
Dark hair. Tall enough. Slim body and big eyes. Small cut on the left eyebrow but brow liner does the trick Mascara and a pale face Tender smile with clumsiness all around her
Filters mask our true faces, Travel and filters matter less in far away places. Take away all the edits, Behind all the sarcastic wit, You will find a young woman trying to make herself fit.
I am kind but sometimes blind to those around me i feel like most never shine oblivious to all i talk to my self but almost no one else I am not ok with with my own being
Through an Instagram lens its often hard to see the bigger picture Every post is worth a thousand words And some of them are meant to injure
People think filters are bad but but they're not filters keeps a good young girl from becoming a thot they keep our nasty parts inside protect us like bear hide and keep us from getting shot
In the mirror I can see, Without a doubt of certainty Someone that's just trying to be-- To simply be, And that is all we need to be.
Where did what's right and what's beautiful become so intertwined? When did I becomed defined only by my jaw line? Why does #MasterCleanse and #LookingThin appear more than #Eating and #LetLoose?
A curtain the shade of a mirrored room
I'm not one for drawing attention. So use a camera instead this confidence is radiant.
Born into a world of filters Everyday i add filters to my life Now i remove these Shedding the shields i use to protect myself I am vulnerable I am scared Uncertain of the future
I am everything I could ever ask When time flits away my inner beauty thrives Guiding me to the infinite fountains
So who is the man in the mirror? The real one- you know? The one behind the filter hidden away, disquised because no matter how hard he tries... There is something different--
Without Filters, her voice is heard and understood Without Filters, She's not depicted as a slut trying to get attention But as just a teenage girl hanging out with friends or at her local library-
Behind bright white smile, is a someone not worth while, behind my uncontrollable laughter, is someone who wants to be happier, behind all the pics, is someone who makes me sick, behind what you see,
I've only been authentic on paper Never have I spoken a filter-less word or acted in a genuine way. It dawns on me now how little the face I was born with is associated with the person cultivating inside me.
You cannot quell me I am a one-man revolution Built like a scorpion, Indestructable-- You can freeze me But I'll eventually Come to, Breaking free from the ice in a frigid Frenzy,
We take selfies left to right
Hidden behind the screen
Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush, Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
I am Broken.
Snap ! Zoom, get centered more, then delete. Twenty to fifity shoots until we get the one that is unique. Taking photos for others to critique.