You stitched my lips today
So I could not speak
I sliced my slender throat
So I could still breathe
Dowsed acid in my eyes
So I could not see
But I reached out to touch her
She in turn touched me
You cut my ears today
I hear no birds sing
Or an infant's laughter
And the joy that brings
You bound my wrists and hands
Now they are red raw
I should blindly stumble
But still I stand tall
You sliced my fingertips
I can't feel her skin
The softness of her hair
The barrel of my pen
You broke my legs in two
Now I cannot walk
Nor can I see or hear
Feel or talk
You did all of these things
To keep me quiet
Yet the passion that
The Truth About Poems by xxFurryfirefoxxx, literature
Literature
The Truth About Poems
Poems are stupid, dumb, and strange.
If you can write them, you're deranged.
They're full of thoughts, obscure and deep.
They make me want to go to sleep.
They're written in meter and time,
Some are even written to rhyme.
Poems are stupid, dumb, and strange.
Assignments to write them should be changed.
Happy Poems? Sorry Sharlett
By: NarutoAddict765
Sharlett says I should be happy,
I should write oh joyous happy poems.
Golden Sun.
Shining Moon.
Beautiful Trees.
City lights.
No...
I will not write happy poems.
Happy poems are for losers.
When poems are happy,
they sound SOOO crappy.
Happy poems are simply, stupid.
They don't have thought,
they don't have meaning,
when I read them...
I feel like screaming.
SO Sharlett...
Yes you Sharlett McColts.
I will not write
what floats your boat.
A Poem About How I Can't Write Poems by SoulEchoe, literature
Literature
A Poem About How I Can't Write Poems
A Poem About How I Can't Write Poems
Whenever I try to write a poem
In any sort of way, via
Writing, typing, singing, thinking,
I haven't got an idea
I sit, I wait, I think and think
Wishing this had been my gift
Scrapping every poem I start
My poor mind starts to drift
There's many a thing I wish to say
Adrift inside my mind like birds
But every time I try to write
I haven't got the words
I envy all you poets' skill
To finish what you start
I guess it's time to face the truth
Poetry's not my art
Dream
Beautiful eyes,
Staring at me,
And the brightest smile,
Ive ever seen,
The face of an angel,
The grace of a god,
A shining halo,
Golden like love,
Skin cream white,
Glowing in the dark,
Like milk against mine,
Like the wings of a dove,
Hair dark as night,
Lengthy and soft,
Hiding his face,
From plain sight,
With a touch like feathers,
And a kiss like the wind,
Lips like petals,
Yet they taste like sin,
He doesnt speak,
No words are needed,
As he kisses my cheek,
And leaves me dreaming,
Take Me Back
I dont want to fall,
So far from you,
I want to stand up tall.
And to myself me true,
I want
I wondered if you could hear my heart in your sleep,
Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams,
Touch my lips when you wake up,
And whisper in my ears while I sleep.
I pondered all that as you fell asleep to my heartbeat,
Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me.
And when I wake up it was your lips,
Or maybe it's all just a dream.
But when I declared "I love you",
I could feel your lips at my ear,
Whispering the sweet melody,
Of everything I ever wanted to hear.