Learn more about other poetry terms

February born makes them one of a kind They’re bold, fearless and extremely truthful Often telling unpleasant truth on face than a lie They’ve great ideas, and think outside the box
Honesty! It’s all a lie, it’s all a lie, it’s all me.  Mandy, it’s me. I looked in the mirror.  I could finally see— past, present, future, as clear as can be.  Me.   
So covered in wounds I became one  to all that I loved, to all that I knew. A very vicious cycle of abuse.   It felt like I was walking in my sleep
  He meant to marry honesty But cowardness has blessed his lips He meant to call bravery  But regrets and mistakes Were always on his tail He so much loved kindness But there goes fear
Silent, the moment speaks in tempation it runs quickly into the folds of desire all at once and none at all shadowing the light I hold beside you into a darkness you never knew
They ask are you good? I answer with my mask and feel like a empty cask I´m fine so everyone around me can shine can you see the skyline I´am supine being on my back it´s all black
I am free I am open I am a flowing river with words streaming from my fingertips pooling on paper. Expression. I am alive in a world where many are dead or maybe not really dead
  I am hungry for your forgiveness and I have no idea why. But, I am ravenous for anything besides this cop-out silence This head buried in hands woods on a foggy day silence
A long journey coming back from the outside world into my home, Around 40-60 minutes, I lay down and I breath heavily, So exhausted from this jog, the forests I went in gave my mind something to be distracted by, 
I trip up when I see that people are disengaging I get bored easily especially when the text convos get dry
A peek into my eyes and you see nothing. I hide my emotions well, may be too well. I am very good at it, the result of decades of practice. Might even venture to say that I have mastered the art of emotional silence.
Something deep in my stomach wants to throw up raw blades but my thighs are already covered in blood. So people can see I’m alive, I plant a peach tree underneath bullets in my skin. She didn’t deserve my touch.
Could this be real. I've felt the pain, the heartache seemed to be endless, Yet the joy so fulfilling, my smile so genuine Could this be real. The beauteous sunlight, the luminous starlight,
I cant breathe! YOUR world suffocates me. YOUR world, Yes! YOUR world because You have never made me feel welcomed in it. Am very much the alien, lost in YOUR world. Never ceasing to remind me that I am different.
I thought I'd be stronger  in your absence... boy was I wrong
Sunglasses worn to hide your eyes. Spinning around using bonucular vision to spy. Looking around and waiting for any reaction. Trapped in your own extravaganza. At the zoo. The circus.
what a dismaywe were trying to find the pieces to the puzzle lets sit cris cross apple sauce and find a new game to playthis one was kind of annoying so we found a new sedative it sorta messed with our heads and we began to feed on selfishness ins
i think of you and the butterflies, swarming my stomach, swim up and up to my throat in a tornado.my gums are growing flowers, making meadows of messages i can only wish to speak to you.
  To a star crossed miracle, to a creature of my own flesh, my gift from whatever the hell is looking out for me, do not bury your head
You ask me, If [I] were a word in the dictionary and someone flipped to [my] page, what would they find there? Essentially, what makes [me]…[me]? How did [I] become the person [I am] today?  
A cumbersome, catatonic existence can burn at my handsand I'll keep the torch with me, an old friend caught between young palms,ash and emotion make me stand:
  Don’t act like I’ve ever been okay. Because it’s in the smile when I’m angry The straight lips you demanded when you couldn’t take more The obedience you looked for It’s all in me  and it is me
Exerting More Energy,    Causing More Pain.   
Honest About My Emotions,   Maybe Too Honest For You.    I Am One Blunt Person,   That’s No Longer New.    A Killer For The Truth,   
I fear being compared,  
We still see light, We still feel warmth, We still hear melody, Why do we have trouble, Seeing love, Feeling love,
Get ready for the picture Take the picture Filter the picture Edit the picture
"How could you say that, my ego is demolished" I have never apologized for just being honest There are way too many people Who lie to their friends to make them feel better 
It’s not as if I've never been here before   It's right there in that chair that you realize tears are imminent
I am untouchable.I am invincible. Though you crumble, Ill still stand tall.I'm still here through it all.Though you hit me, I won't fall.I'm still here to answer the call.
Sincere, that's what people tell me. Because I'm honest, and I mean what I say.
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
Me at my core is nothing more than a little boy Who wanted a pet dinosaur A boy who wanted to become rich and famous and become a candy connoisseur
What is the difference between a filter and myself? Is there a clean line that can be drawn? Is there a simple way to say this is me, and that is who you think I am?   No, there is truth in lies
Like long standing mountains, I am weathered and flawed, Made beautiful by life's disastrous, awesome turns. I am insecure, Searching for meaning in a life I once thought I did not deserve.
Sexual preference  Is not just sexual preference Is spiritual preference
Small with a big attitude Accompanied by an even bigger mouth A sweet, loving smile that will quickly turn into a pout Kind of boy crazy... okay maybe a lot Can't blame me, I mean some are quite hot.
Sometimes you have to reflect Look back to the past Take a trip down memory lane Pop some Advil because there will be pain Close your eyes and start What's the first image that crosses your mind?  
I am that poor girl whose waning hope gave birth to passion Or perhaps I am a pupeteer with a marionette by the name of "Semantics"  Some days I am the crisp morning drizzle
Through a window you think you can see the other side
Hoping for destination, she  gropes toward brightness, across spaces like tundras.
  Everyday I tell myself “If she only knew” Every morning when I wake I start thinking of you   Sometimes I just wish That I could tell you Just what I’m thinking
Emotions share Many Similarites With water, both are Vital
There is this curtain that covers me
I am a dystopia whose fault line you are just waiting to fracture, Splintering me into chaotic shards, The world tells me on that sunshine tulip-coated poster: “You must love yourself before anyone can love you”
a defence mechanism has its cons and pros, sometimes the cons outweigh the pros.Because you can hide behind that ego and all of that pride until you realise from all the despair and pain people around you have caused , that everyone needs someone
To write each night and da
Honesty is all I would change maybe if we all could be genuine love would not be in vain if I could change the roles of honesty maybe a liar would feel the victims pain He lied to me that's why I feel this way
'love is blind' This quote very famous, very, very famous but for those of us who have been in love how much of it is really floating flowers and doves or is the quote meant to symbolise something alot deeper
My P.E. Class was great, and do you know why? I never had to dress out because my teacher was bi! She read sex books all day, and let us play on our phones,
Life. Wrap me up in it. Feed me it by spoon. Or drown me in it. Just, leave me to submerge. I'll be fine. Just...Let me be. Let me live.   I'm under lock and key,
  Chardae Prevo Septemeber 19, 2013 Innocent Heart
I write to escape, to embody myself in a world free of space and time where my pen can't keep up with my mind as I overflow with rhyme expressing my love, expressing my life.
I write to release, I write to not feel. I write to express feelings that I know are real. I write when I'm confused, I write when I'm alone, I write when there's no one but myself at home.
Sometimes it is difficult to find, myself when behind closed eyes, all that resides, is darkness, seemingly vast. It is tricky knowing, which way to cast, my trust,
My selfish self wants to stand out and shine, Like the glowing eyes from the roadside in the night Making many folks alert of my existence. Yet, all my life I’ve been watching from behind those dazzling bright eyes,
i write because others write one day i heard someone speak without making a sound the book opened on my lap spilled with words that were so loud at the end of every sentence and/or phrase, was a bold statement
Why I write The externalization of my internal fight My words take flight What I convey not always a delight The emotions are real, Flashing before your eyes Masquerading in my desguise
I used to be depressed And at times I even desired death My feelings were strong and extreme It was the consequence Of trials and times That clearly took a toll on me  
I record dreams.Not because I believe they are full of meaning,But because they were something I experienced,And I don't like to forget,That which I have experienced.
Why I write is simply so when my words sprout wings and take off into my soul my mind and spirit filled with dismay writing is the ticket as I take on the soul train Why I write
I believe that in order for someone to truly develop and mature they must invest in themselves. In order to invest in themselves they must recognize what type of person he or she is
  Poetry is more than words put together in rhymes and stanzas. It’s more than a couplet Or even iambic pentameter. To me it iss utter expression.   A way to scream and shout
You use them to communicate, you use them to express your hate, you use them to depict your fate, you use them to inovate. but i use them to fight, i use them to make things right,
Words written in led or words written in ink; whenever I find a chance, I really begin to think.   Words written in red or words written in pink; When I find the chance to write, it feels like it was meant to be.
limit of limitations are limitless when i script dreams onto a blank page filled with ideas just awaiting to happen. The thought that no one or nothing could say that im wrong.
Knees bent as you take your mark. You know that feeling when you forget and wash away and race across that finish line and the ribbon breaks. Then suddenly you come back to life.
Today I am a leader, An independent, A scholar.   Yesterday I was shy. Timid, And a follower.   Today I speak in front of large crowds, Rooms of people,
Poetry is fluid Poetry is right Poetry is life Poetry is fight Poetry is fun Poetry is truth Poetry is ... Expressing you
                                                         Poetry helped destroy the Berlin Wall. Poetry encouraged Allied nations to liberate all decent prisoners off the Holocaust’s downfall.
I know you know my struggles; I know you my pain So there's no need explain why I'm emotionally drained   I'm feeling deranged; living in shame; Going insane, losing my brain
Why do we write? Why does poetry exist? "Poetry is useless" Well this world is fruitless These words I speak, type, write my only sense of light Our only way to fight
"I'm grateful that yous was unfaithful, cause i wouldn't have been able to keep my mental stable and live a fable  with a woman's who's "Slut-Soo-Easily" labeled 
How many years has its been since you gave birth to yours truly? We've had our ups and downs, many times, but I've kept you in mind lovingly. I know that I haven't been the perfect child, but honestly
Poetry, How I express my feelings, My love, My Pain, My thoughts, It gets me through the tough times, And guides me to the happy ones, It is my stress relief, My shoulder to cry on, My Love, My Addiction, Such a simple word, Is "Poetry", But its p
If I cannot speak, the writing will do it so As I write my chapters of life, words can let you know One moment I feel like dropping the pen But I hold onto it and keep going again.
When You Have a Big House or When You Have Only Greens In your wallet You Don’t See the Real’s and Fakes Of Both Life and Wealth
Oh gheez Lets freeze I’m not hard to please I need apologies I’ve paid my fees Put me at ease Ain’t hear to please ya Not sittin here to tease ya But this light skinned disease
I am from the smell of the Ohio River and the soft kisses of sunlight on my skin. From the jungle gyms and slides that create the paths of my life.
You walk down the street and people know For advice to you they can go You're smart and honest and honestly kind A greater friend no one could find You care and you give By the way that you live
Listening to the stories of others Like pages turning, examples of being told no That you can’t do it. You’re silly. Or crazy. Dream smaller. Safer What about that little girl Who sits in her college dorm
Most of the people I have known have thrown me to the curb, saying don't come back. The ones that were there for me; I had to leave. I searched through every group:
In days to come I write of hope, I write of beaming white. I scrawl of joy and scribble truth, and smiling, sweet aloof.
so cheers to the teenage years glad that we faced our past fears now we say our goodbyes Now with teary eyes with gleeful cries With elation! jubilation! today is a cause for celebration
Short Quick Breaths Try and hold Me together But fail In utter Lack of strength. Massive voids Consume my middle Bigger than me Yet part of Me
Always there when you need her the most
Straight to the dome is how I hope people will get hit by this poem, and even though I don't know 'em I'll gladly write to show 'em, how I should be one of the chosen still down to submit a rap poem, if you couldn't tell this was rap and are now i
I am a liar skilled in the ways of manipulation like star constellations, I connect the dots, thoughts leading to rotten deeds committed in secret. And to you It’s a pretty picture in the sky
love me or hate me, I don’t care.
 When everyone left me hope was the only thing I had to spare.
 I always hear people sayin “life ain’t fair.” But that’s a blasphemous nightmare.

Their is deception that dwells in me. A struggle within to exlude my false being. If nothing more, all I ask for is truth. Not much to gain and their is even more to lose.
Subscribe to Honest