Learn more about other poetry terms

I want to be the Energizer Bunny; I don't want to stop. I want to be pink, wear sunglasses, And do whatever I want. I want to be the Energizer Bunny So I'd never have to sleep.
The letter B is just blessed! Brain becomes bright with it And beautiful babies are at its desk. Brave believe in it for best Beyond behaviour everything is rest.
Dear Girl on the Other Side of the World,   I want to ask “how are you?” But those are just words. Empty noise. You won’t give me an honest answer I won’t give you an honest listen.  
Grey and cold...a chill upon the early morning air. An orange hue, pink warmth spilling across the grey ground, Rising like a mist to color the sleepy sky. Within a tiny hovel sleeps,
Loving thoughtlessly  
One less inquiry   
Oh, to be mad, what a wonderful thing Oh, to hear, such sweet symphonies Oh, to live, so joyful and free Oh, to know, to understand, to see Yet, to be mad, is held in poor light
I. Throughout my years of unstandardized history classes, I’ve been taught about Columbus And Vespucci And John Smith.   I’ve been taught this country was stolen From the friendly and naïve.
I pledge Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.   This first line always makes me queasy. It doesn't sound
  The instructor said, Go home and writea page tonight.And let that page come out of you---Then, it will be true.    I doubt that's all there is to it
"Once upon a time" I write on a sheet of paper Then I stop Perplexed Musing on what I should Write next. This is the writer's dilemma Pleasure mixed with pain
Today I say good morning to the sun! Usually it is the sun that wakes me up every single day. But today is special... At six a.m. it is I smiling down as the Sun Stirred from his deep, deep slumber.
Darkness isn't always bad. Darkness doesn't make you mad Darkness isn't always wrong It shouldn't be feared upon. It is a normal phenomenon in our world
I can smile and look at everythingTwisting a strand of hair with my finger,A childish expression i wear to pass the time. Until then I am wasting my time skipping and stepping on broken leaves,My toes growing numb from the water soaking into my sh
Inside my soul it cries and wails, I keep it trapped, for the key is mine. Until the cage, from my own hands, at long last falls and fails. Nobody can comprehend that museful flower,
L'appelle d'vide. The call of the void. Everyone knows the feeling – the feeling that only the French understand. The need to test faith and fate. The urge to jump.
Subscribe to Musings