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The flower grows In the soil. It sprouts from the ground. In swoops the farmer To pluck it out. It is a weed.
There will be times when things between us might not feel so sweet. Those moments we look back on, wishing we could press delete. I might find myself tripping, when I only meant to sweep you off of your feet.
Swimming through my lake of thoughts I gaze and then behold, The dreams are singing, and hopes are ringing The young and also the old
My heart and soul cry out These trials bring me strength I will supplement my life With scripture and song Praying God will use this To build empathy and wisdom Instead of jadedness and despair
I am not a poet I don’t write I don’t recite I don’t use my words correctly i don’t comprehend as well as others i don’t understand the rules I play ball, I’m good at it it makes me whole its my happy place The court is ninety-four feet the h
Dear life, You are beautiful. All of the trials; all of the struggles. She just lost her unborn baby due to violence. She had been hoping for a girl.
Have you ever dreaded to take a breath Not the kind that fills soft moist lungs But the kind that follows a silent death Let me go no further For I can see you I don’t have to be there
" i can do all things" didn't stop at shoulder surgery you see beauty in the little things paint designs on butterfly wings so no: i won't pretend to know your plans because they're more than i could dream
I've got a pair of shoes. They are new, fresh, clean. Here comes the race; I want to win nervous We start to race and my heart beats beats and beats
What is to be gained by breaking me? It will certainly take time My resolve is strong and final, my heart is loyal in the utmost, I hate more than anything to be thought weak You know me
Slick sleet, sleepy things Stumble over me Hot mess, camo dress Be still to not be seen Fire moths busy Setting sparks to trees No time to seek for shelter As grenades go
Life,it's a funny concept really.
She was sixteen, with a confused soul All of her dreams were glitter & gold He took hold of her morals, she did let go
When trials are headed our way We wait in vain for someone else to pick us up Our selfishness overcomes our consciousness And we fall even deeper into darkness Life isn't always daises and roses
This is what the front line is like A line where all have stood at points in life A trial of tears, stress and pain Deception is an ugly site There is some sort of delight
candidacy-competition-trial- its all pointless if you choke- if you forget what to say - eveything you spent the past three stuyding for- not to mention all the pressure thats pinned on this-
To go or not to go- that is the question: Whether it is the early morning rise That keeps the head in a groggy state Or the thrill of the heart pounding And, by opposing, wakes us. To wake, to go-
You and me, We had amazing memories, Staying up listening to Miley, Talking about our parties. Blaring out to your music, Singing to the lyrics we know, You yelling at me to choose it,
Who am I? Am I a hero? Am I a villain? A star, a role model, a mother? Who will I be... When I venture through the darkest of caves Will I emerge to see the light? Who can I be?
Conformity is like a box, Your as sly as a fox. You try to sneak in your ways, This is not a game everyone plays. Its so serious, Dont act mysterious. I have my beleifs as you do yours.
I want to love you, but I feel like we rushed. Two months went too quickly. It left me thinking, "Is this lust?" You said it was more, and with me you did agree, and getting "us" back
[disclaimer: This poem is a little raw. I wrote it at 3:30am and refused to edit it afterward.] I used to think that I was big I used to think that I was strong I used to think “I’m an adult.”
I’ve had a lot of ups and downs, a lot of trials coming at me. That is why I write. I’ve had people come into my life and then ones who just left me. That is why I write.
Who shall I praise in my moment of glory Who shall I praise in my moment of pity Who shall I praise when I need to be happy Who shall I praise when I cry like a baby Who shall I praise when I don't know who to be
With nowhere to turn, my life flashes by. Looking around and nowhere to hide. I know all these faces, and they all know mine. The same faces day after day. They get comfortable with not saying hey. Walking around with nowhere to belong.
Never what I am, always looking for Me, life follows no plan, we're tossed in a stormy sea. We walk on trial, walk down death row, while accusations pile,
The end of the road is coming near Get back on my own two feet And walk away from fear Fear that I wont ever make it to the top of the world And put my worries aside And climb that mountain
The pumping glass stone, Tossed and dropped and shattered, The pain is felt and reflected through orbs Anguish! Pain! Sorrow! Strain and pressure, the stone may die, but it doesn’t And soon,
Tell her she's nothing, useless, minuscule, minute, Tell her she's worthless, the price of a penny put your hands around her neck and choke her until breath is begged for
What if the harmony of saints and sinners / Broke in moments o’er passing of bread? / Temporal and shallow, this generation envisage / Martyrdom, not white but red /
Desires I openly nearly never express
Go, little sheep, from this bare and desolate land. Go from this wicked place with its whips and brands. Go, press onward through the cold gates that bar the way Go, leave this dark world