Right, so I made a poem, and I would like your opinon on it. Feedback, critisim, and if you would please, tell me your favorite line from this poem.
Where I'm from, choices don't exists. I never choose to smoke, I never choose these lungs, covered in brown every few years. Where I'm from pneumonia is a joke. She comes by my door, and asks me for a kiss. I give her one, and she plays her games. Sometimes we go too far, and I need to lie down. With a needle in my arm, shes huging my chest, her lover asthma by her side. But I know I'm better off without them. Where I'm from you should be everything you're not. You should talk like that guy, and you should smile like the person you arn't. Where I'm from others decide who you are, and they're mad when you don't agree. But where I'm from, I can always decide to be me. I always decide who I want to be. Where I'm from these little problems can't really bother me. Where I'm from, it's not the pain that kills you. Where I'm from, it's the lack of joy.
Tell me what you think of me. I want to hear what you think, how you feel. Now. Don't you want to know the same?
You give me hell, every time we meet. I just wanted a nice simple greet. I trust your every word. And then my own get unheard.
I want you to trust me, I let you know you'll be alright, Now when I need it just hold me tight.
Tell me what you think of me. Let me hear love in your voice. Let me tell you I understand, Let me show you I can care too.
(Next poem)
Why do play pretend?
You'll whisper of me behind my back. Through the tongue I can't speak but hear all the same. That's when you play pretend.
You bite the little boy, Who doesn't seem to understand the games you play. Who will wait until he is shown the gold to give the gold. And you treat him as if he's poor. When he really just isn't sure what these emotions mean. And so he won't know how to play along. That's when you play pretend.
What about when you deny his emotions, Or his ideas, his care, his love. When you take some and say you gave it back. That's when you play pretend.
I'll end here. I think it may already be too long. I post a personification poem later.
A bitter sweet drill digs into my chest, Underneath is a pile of coal. Dirty and dusty, and covered in mold. But this drill is wise. She has taken my coal And she made diamonds that glitter, that sparkle like gold.
She takes my diamonds and where's them around. Now I'm wrapped around her fingers, And we've fallen in love.
Until she forgets me. Until an oyster comes along. And she can take pearls from his mouth. I am left in the jewlery box. I pretend I'm stuck in here and cannot see, The beautiful blows she delivers to me. And her punches hurt like heaven.
Wait, didn't I submit this in the poetry contest already? Should you even by giving me feedback? Yes. And yes. It's your duty as a citizen. Or illegal immigrant with internet. I don't discriminate.
You were born on into the world as a goddess. Strong, proud and beautiful. To deny you greatness would be a sin unlike any other. For every person who saw you there were a million to love you. And your power was unmatched by any other. Everyone listens to you and wouldn't dare to hurt you. You are always right and always strong. Your confidence is above all, and for good reason too. It is shown in your face, in your hair, inside of you. It is shown through your brain that is full with wisdom. Your heart filled with love given to you. And your personality that strikes all with awe. This is a tale of someone who you can't compare yourself to. Or maybe, This is a tale of someone who can't compare themselves to you. Maybe this tale is backwards. And maybe you've already seen. Maybe the opposite of you, is me.
Cut on my hand that heals so slow, You give me nostalgia of a life before. Back when I thought I'd never grow. And back when my throat and chest felt sore. You take me back to the times of fear. To the times I'd wake up with tubes in my nose. With a needle in arm, and a ringing in my ear. I sit here and stare at you now and reminiscence, On the physical looked on as a joke. Because my chest pains never hurt as bad the pain in my chest. The air lost in my throat was not nearly as scary As the words I've lost in my mouth. I've only really meet you for a few years. Yet you've done more damage then asthma has my whole life. So trust me when I say, The pain you give is the only thing that'll take my breath away.
I'm a really bad topic maker, because I always forget to respond to people.
I love your poems. They're very realistic and easily relateable. Please keep posting. I cant wait for moreee
Thanks, I'm constantly drowning my poems with my own emotions. But I do it with symbolism and stuff like that so its not too obvious. (Is it obvious?).
Cookies
Someone has taken the cookies from the jar atop the hill. Its a long way up the hill, and the way down is even longer. Someone has taken the cookies, it wasn't very hard to do. He has gathered people like you and like me, and decided to walk on our backs, we ended up crawling on our hands and knees. The higher he got, the more people were hurt. And in the end, he didn't even share his cookies. From now on, we're staying on the ground.
Do we make a new topic if we haven't touched our old ones for a while?
Creature of the night
Wish I was a vampire! They're cool and fast, and fly so high. Vampires almost never die.
Sucking blood when least expected, In the back alley for the kill. Fighting werewolves, what a thrill!
I'd get to keep out of the light, Chasing lambs throughout the night. Vampires are a lot like me.
But vampires are better off, Cuz when they look for their reflection it seems, They never seem to see, the short, green, monster. That just happens to look like me.
