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Hiding underneath the bag like clothes, Everything's covered; fingers and toes. Destroy the confidence held within, Causing insomnia with thoughts of thin. Bodies.
Today has vowed a sky of cloud; a frivolous shroud: no daylight, or joy, or beauty allowed. Much of the day has wasted away in such a way, the birds, the people, have nothing to say.
I miss the days where my words flowed,. From the tips of my fingers down to my toes,. I felt the words in my bones,. Words and rhyme and lyrical flow,. I've always had a fascination,.
Love isn't something. You can hold in your hand. It can't be contained. In a bright gold band. Love can be blind. Something unplanned. Sometimes it burns. With a permanent brand. Modern day love.
Hate poem- jealous and silly and only halfway sincere. ****. I'm glad you have a massive nose;. And a lack of class, and ugly toes. I'm glad you are a nosey slut;. But hate your toned and perky butt.
I like silver better older. With its fine blue dust. Taking shelter in the notches. A lovely sort of rust. It looks much more refined. With its overcoat of grey. Like the swirling cirrus clouds.
I used to Imagine that the stones. At the bottom of the river. Were made because. God took a little piece of the moon. Or the sun. Sanded it down. To its smooth smooth shape. Chiseled its divots.
Can I make a challenge. I'd like to hear about your confidence issues or what you image it feels like to have no confidence (ie the definition of me). Deadline on hhhmmm... Friday.
They don't understand, why I sit by you, they don't understand, why I stay away. They think they know everything about you, they think they know why I cruelly care.
Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines he wrote a poem And he called it "Chops" because that was the name of his dog And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A and a...
I. A poem is a snapshot of the soul; A feeling frozen in time, A memory stuck on flypaper, A window into the garden Stopped between night and morning. II.
#opussweeklychallenge I was sitting in the cafe, All alone on Valentine's Day, Wanted someone to say, "I love you" but not by this way. Just walking through the rain, When I felt a very sharp pain.
I find it strange how we have grown, From little children in the unknown. Knowing a lot about nothing much, Living life freely as such.
Escape is found In a variety of muses; Music, art, words... And mine is none of the three Mine are a bottle, a bowl, and blade.
Whats the craziest thing you've ever done. Were you once foolish. Were you young. Did you cycle to town in your pyjamas at midday. sing camp songs together till break of day.
#opussweeklychallenge Rest your head just here my love and listen to my heart.
Don't talk to me of Love, That icky pink and red parade Which invades the shops this time of year, Draping them in Hallmark's brand of 'true' dedication And admiration. Hush.
(This is a challange, I want to see if I can get a cool poem by describing a color, so please tell me what you think!!) (Also, try reading it with some kind of melody, it makes the poem...
#acrostic F eed my Fetish with drawers Full of lace, E ffortlEss silk stockings, and a mask for my facE. T ailormade corseTs and suspenders to maTch, I mmaculate satIn, for an eye I may catch.
Feet don't do it for me, neither does showers of pee. Each to their own I suppose, how some do it, god only knows. Tight PVC has its moments I guess, but only on women at their best.
Magpie, Magpie, One for sorrow, two for joy, But why oh why did you steal My heart.
her mind was see-through, her thoughts stood sheer. you saw right past them, you never bothered to hear. - her eyes spoke silently, her mouth remained shut.
Two little dicky birds sitting on a wall One quite short and the other quite tall Although they were different their hearts were as one For they loved each other as much as anyone Spring in the...
A/N: This is a poetic description of my daily battle with ADHD. Haven't I gotten it wrong. My mind is so full of questions - jockeying for answers that only create more questions.