Miss Missing YouI never thought I would miss the wayyou made me drink away my painsHow I got so drunk that night, I ran awayand did not remember waking up in his armsOr how I wanted to cry every nightyou told me you loved meand kissed my cheekBecause I only knew you were wishing it was her cheek,her hair,her smileYou were wishing you were with somebodywho loved you back
Self LoveAnd for no reason, I began to cry.I had nothing to cry about;this is where I am guilty.Flowers are growingwhere you planted your kisses.Cheeks ache from laughter,and smiles.And love.Am I so selfishthat I ache for more than love?What better is there than love;what possibly is causing these raincloudsin both my eyes and my mind?It is my own faultthat I broke my very own heart,waiting for the day that I love me, too.
Dandelions Among RosesAlthough I am the southand your daisies are the north,my petals are no less than shooting stars,for have you not said a flower is a flower?Tell me then, why must I perish?I try my best at glamour,yet I am still nothing to youcompared to roses.Tell your gardener to go;we are not friends, he and I.His hands are the devil,and his jars hold the devil's heart.As summer grows old,he rains the devil's tears among us.Although you may say a flower is a flower,what is a dandelion among a bouquet of roses?
Suicide NoteMy Love, This world is such an awful place. I'm afraid there is just too much madnessin one lonely world that I just cannot comprehend; the way prostituteslook so lovely before faking so much pleasure, oh-so sweet children losing their innocence,the old man I saw eating out alone - how must he feel approaching his wife's grave? I'm afraid I know of no pain of the kind; however, each life invites new pain, new wars. That's all we are these days - the struggles of dealing with madness and war. The greatness with that is with each death is that many less battles to fight. Oh, how many battles could we end with each lost soul? That is what I am and will be - lost battles. There is too much madness that I cannot understand.Bury my memories as well.
BostonWhy stay?It's not as if the sun dazzles in a thousand different ways,a thousand better ways.All it does is ferment the sweet flowersthat once held the key to my heart,scorch the innocent embrace of what used to be.Boston holds such better promises,comprises such better welcomes.I will not find tearsbeneath the corners of every street;no memories at the stop sign.Just passersby, looking at yet anotherbroken girl, hoping to make her wayin the city of Boston.
Temptations and DesiresWhat do you want?...What do I want?I want to love you.I want to love youlike you say you love me.I want to please you,as I am a people pleaser.How could I possibly say no?You're here in front of me,hurting with your life.I don't know who I am -God knows who I am.If only he could reign His truthupon my soul.If only, then I could tell youwhat I truly want.(...It isn't you.)
Be My EscapeFinally, the moon rises with all its secrets withheld.But you still don't move..The sand beneath your toes is like silk, isn't it?You don't want to go, do you?Although the sun blinds your eyes and sets your skin on fire,the stars softly kiss your wounds, your scars.The scars that those pretty little roses caused,as you tried to bury your life in the thorns of beauty.The boundless embers dance on,pulling you in with them.Will you dance, or will you fall?Oh, how the dance can go on for eternity,bringing with it new wonders to yet be revealed.Or you could fade to nothing oh-so quickly...So answer this, will you dance?Oh, how those stars do catch my eye,with their ever-taunting cavort to the ageless beauty of harmony.And how the sand, glimmering delicately as it does,hides underneath it the roots to all value,to the flowers, the trees, the sweet embrace of raspberries,as they blemish your face with their candy blood.But those incandescent lights...
BraveThe struggles of his owndisappear beneath his smile,replaced by sense of unknown hope.Giving up is an option,a door always open,but he glances through,and quickly moves on.An optimist?He is not.No, he does not see lightthrough cracks of darkness,does not see sunshinein the black of the night.This man knows where to search, though,how to find sunshineafter tornadoes reined their fury.Many doubts,many insecurities,as if their stones meant somethingwhen spoken by poison lipsset out kill.He will not defeat,nor be defeated.Rocks may be thrown,sticks and stones,but come morning,he's no longer deaf to the solution.
Aren't You Glad You're Not a Giraffe?Aren't you glad you're not a giraffe?Ever since I was born, everyone just laughed.I always trip and I always fall,But worse than that, worst of all,When I was born, I hit my head."He won't grow at all," the doctors said.So here I stand, a giraffe who's undersized.I'm short and fat, and to none am I a prize.When I stretch my neck to eat the trees,My head won't reach the lowest of leaves.No one else helps; all they do is stare."Haha, you're so weird!" Life isn't even fair.So one day when I was all alone,I decided to go out, all on my own.I slowly crept from our large herdWithout even a single goodbye as a word.I ran away from that mean, old town.The dirt path was my friend, staining my feet brown.I didn't turn around; I didn't look back.I didn't stop running until I heard loud, "QUACK!"The oddities of this animal amused me, though.One of them amused me most, of all her woes.This duckling didn't waddle, for she had to jump.She hopped out of the bush, and hit the gro
A Guide to Free Verse (i)Know your enter keyThe enter key is your friendTo write in free verseWould not work without its helpPoetry would be a worldWithout meaningWithout emotionWithout your trusty companionAn example:You sat quietly in the darkThis phraseLay without meaningI frequently sit in quietIn darknessFor I am a boy within my teensLike a fungusI prefer the dark and dampThe sentence stirs onlyVague memories of pubertyNow, muster your courageBring forth the enter key:You satQuietlyIn the darkAh! Now this!You can feel it overflowing with meaning!A sack of grainsOf grassReady to bloom into lifeBursting at the seamsFilled with endless, brooding, possibility!Can you feel it?That deep stirring wave in your chest?That is emotionCoursing through your entire being!"Is my screen faltering?" you may askBut nae! It is your eyesWelling with tears!Whom is the subject? Why are the sitting in tragic darkness?Stifling silence?You can never know! But your heart...Your heart aches
Dear Mr Shredder...Don't tell me your shaking in your bootsat the sound of our weapons looseWhy make us chase youthere's nothing you can doit's simple, plain as can be seenwhen we're done, you wont like the color greengo ahead and send your ninja after usthe more you try you make a fusstwenty down, one target, that's youYou're gonna have to face us that's trueShake in your tin suit that's okaythe more you shield yourself the better I sayfour kids can take you down with their eyes closedbreak the suit from your skin you're all exposedfor the world to see so much moreyou're no match for us fourmy brothers and I can kick your *ssshove you right through the window glasswe'll watch silently, down you goto the pavement far belowYou, Mr. Shredder are no moreyou've been down downgraded to first floorhow's it feel to actually bleedyour no longer being fed by greeda team of mutants can take you downdefeat you and take your crownyou never was a kingheartache is all you ever bringRejoice
vale wethaVale of Leven sky 2pissed2snowORhave UFO opt out option availableBut if u stand still enough in a stormu could get guillotinedby a frozen frog pond
Ode to AflackOde to AflackDear Aflack, my fine poetic friend,I cannot see why you cannot just accept your name.It is a name, of such power,such majesticness,and yet...you do not see the beauty that is your name.Oh what glorious rays of joydoes your name send forth.So how, my friend, can you hate it so?Dearest, Aflack,Please...love your name.It is the only one you have.
Un petit Poeme - A little PoemYesterday evening I saw this funny Deviation of a Dear Friend af mine!http://klo-badelaine.deviantart.com/art/Parfois-440496566And, reading at the comment below...... I started to write a comment ...... and soon, following a spring of the moment (I was in a funny mood), I began to try to wrote in rhymes in my very poor French!And now, since I would to have and give to you a funny moment in this bad, heavy and nervous day,...I would share with you my little, silly, French-written "Poem"!"Parfois j'aime attacher mes amies.Sometimes i love tying my girlfriends up." (Klo-Badelaine)Et un bonne Journée a tout le Monde!
BoredomB eing done with finals, O ne should feel ecstatic. R ight, about that.... E ndless days with nothing planned. D idn't think I'd get this far.... O blivious and a bit lonely, M y new boyfriend's name is Netflix.
AddictionInnocent in a packagebut harmful in your bodyAlleyways tell an unclear lessonto not take anything from everybody
I Don't Like Words to Rhyme I Don't Like Words to RhymeI choose not to rhyme-for it only wastes my time.On these words I must concentrate.I'm afraid the meaning will dissipate.As I think of the next word,this poem's idea lies away.Forget what you've heard!Do you remember whatI've tried to convey?Lost so in the rhythm of each line-that what's important has said goodbye.You snap your fingers alongbecause it seems far from wrong.Argh! I just now seethat this is such an irony!Oh: you find such funny?What a foolish dummy!Please: bring not the pitchfork!No, not the torch!I promise I am now done-so don't make me run!
.Dear rain, Fuck youSincerely, The umbrellas
Fetish.Once upon a time, there was a man.He made me smile like no man can.He stole my heart with one touch of his lips,But then he found out I was into whips.And off with my heart he ran.