Misconceptions

Learn more about other poetry terms

Look down at your feet or into their eyes, Because God knows what you're doing looking anywhere else. Don't give any compliments, don't cross that line, Because God knows you must be objectifying them with that.   
I trusted you  but you broke it  I gave my all to you and you accepted it  yet you let it all crumble like it was nothing its confusing  but the trust was lost 
  Dear Love, You were an arrogant, blundering fool, with no respect for others. My eyes burned with anger to the fiery depths of my soul did I hate your pride.
I am more than the puppet in the photo. I am more than the papers I write. I am more than the family I've been given. I am more than the sheep, being suffocated by the flock.
Beauty is an anomoly. It is a power and a curse. it creates popularity, and it empties out your purse.   Beauty isn't trivial, it is a passion and a duty. As the desire to be beautiful.
My intellectual capabilities dig beyond what you see, Ass & titties aren't so unique, You can't grab my ass like you can grasp my mind, Look down my shirt, you won't find divinity,
Verse 1: We taint the air with idle words Cause sticks and stones hurt the most What’s a jab to the bird? What’s a duel to a roast? Shoot….    
The logistics of his linguistics is not Succumbing to the seductiveness of his log’s rhythm.  
As a consultant, I work with team members across the globe, coming into the role with preconceptions I know. Quickly, I realized that we come from the same God, being able to communicate with simply a nod.  
My little big brother, how I loved you so much, nineteen years, just wasn't enough. From the time we were little and I watched you play, I knew you would grow up, to be special some day.
She looks up at the clouded sun For the thousandth time today Feels the worlds ambience around her
You took from me my smile and pride  my happiness and freedom had no room inside.    Restriction or addiction, I ran the thin line unable to eat, unable to beat, the little voice willing me not to eat. 
The delicate form of my temple are never as fragile nor weak,   The smile that features in my eyes, do not reveal the misery my soul’s torn from.  
They Told Us They told us that things were complicated, But in the same breath they declared it was all just Black and White.   They told us that when Reverend King climbed up
  Her voice becomes unclear. Are these expressions of pleasure Or pain? She winces and looks for something to hold on to, Something to brace the defilement between her thighs, The gaping wet wound,
I hate it When people look at me And only see Things they hope And dream just for me.
Subscribe to Misconceptions