HOPE
(Written for a school assignment. The assignment was called "Misleading titles" I think I pulled it off.)
The pain was now his existence, as he settled there to breathe,
No mortal would stop him from sinking beneath.
Too weak to get up and fight, too strong to try again,
To settle here and die, or to close his eyes and leave with them.
He had killed so many, and still kept his name,
The blood flowed beneath him, making him insane.
Ever weary with his own life, and glad they were that he came,
Now they suffer below him, at the pain he would not claim.
Now he feels dense, for the hellish screams he unleashed,
As he walks away, leaving the men he killed to bleed.
He smiles at the night, knowing he is alive,
Hoping in the end, the darkness will suffocate him from inside.
WAR
(Eh, I guess it's a bit of a "rap" if you think about it. I say it in a pattern when I read it.)
It’s true what they say, about war
It’s the rich who start it, those that suffer being the poor
We work our butts off from day to day
Only to spill a little more blood, for you to stay in the good old USA.
I personally have no time, for this pointless violence
All I ask of you is a simple minute of silence!
You know that fleeting minute, when no one’s in pain?
But then again, we don’t really know how to play that game.
No screaming, no yelling, no playing, no fighting,
Try to run away from it all, just like I did.
You won’t get far, trust me on that,
They’ll pull you back in, dragging you on your back.
Let’s put away the guns and accusations please,
Maybe it’s time we pay a little respect to the world we've made!
The world’s not ours for the taking that’s for sure,
But we’re the USA, so we’ll make it our goal anyway!
In the end, it’s not the battles you’ve triumphantly won
Not the people you’ve killed, or those you’ve over run.
It’s the times you’ve fallen, and gotten right back up,
It’s the one’s you’ve lost and successfully over come.
CREASED
(Yep, personal, made for personal reasons.)
Folded, unfolded, folded….
I will never have the choice of coming undone
Crashing, burning, and this relentless yearning
I have the privilege of seeing it all from within
Never stopping, never slowing,
Never breathing, never showing
I will no longer pretend, I will no longer look away
I am here to show you that I am going to stay.
Creased, uncreased, creased….
I am scared, frightened, and alone
Weak, no direction, no place to run to
No place to call home
No red slippers to tap away with
No yellow bricks to follow
I have no map, no compass, and no sense
And I'll face the fact that I will be lost in shadow.
Bent, unbent, bent….
I will do the right thing, some how
Knowing this, as I do, helps in the end
Makes it all clear, makes me mend
Always raining, never calm
Always screaming, never sleeping
I am no longer human, no longer whole
Always weak, never strong
Always right, never wrong…
TWISTED
(An attempt at "Twisted Little Tales" a contest in my class.)
I think I will draw you a picture
A little picture, with a grand twist
You will never see it coming
Oh, how I do enjoy this
As I draw this picture
The images will come alive
You will watch the world I draw
Come off the paper and fly!
A river will form, pebbles, sand and stone
The water will flow past the banks
You will have to swim to stay up
You will have to fight to stay afloat
As the river overflows, pulling you with it
The pages will break, ruining my gift
As the pages break, the spine cracking
I will finally notice, I've made a big mistake
You will be long gone then, lost out in sea
I will not be able to protect you, the water too deep
So sadly, you will drift away, as everyone does in the end
I'll put away my book, and continue to pretend.
THE HAPPY GIRLS POEM
(I was a bit pissed, after having read a million sad little girl emo poems on mibba.com so I wrote a little diddle yelling at them.)
Welcome to the real world, everyone analysis this
Where contention is common, and hurting is a given
We're all suffering, in our own little conduct
We're all struggling with the demons we're fearful of.
I'm not going to bring up god in this modest poem
I'd hate to start a comment clash over viewpoints alone
Always summoning him up when you're sad and alone
I'm not going to believe in god just to feel at home
I'm uncomfortable, I'm scrawny, I'm stout, I'm huge
I'm pale, I'm black, I'm white, what is it to you?
I'm happy with myself, and what I have become
I don't cry about my exterior, I don't hide from the sun
I'm brash; I'm chock-full of myself, I love my life
I have no problems with making others effortlessly cry
I hold my chin up high, looking to the clouds over top
I don't wallow in self-pity, waiting for the pain to stop
Life demands more and more, each coming day
Who will save us, you ask, who will set us free?
The savior is within; the hero lies in your heart
You just need to get up, and stop falling apart.
Preaching strength is just like preaching the pain
So, I'll stop here and say this very last thing.
I'm sorry if I offended you, but you'll have to learn
Being helpful is not always happy, it should be worn.
Lying to make you smile, is not something I'm gonna do
I'm here to show you just what you can do.
I'll pat you on the back, and smile from here until you stand
I'm not here to shove you down; I'm here to help you in the end.
NINE – NARRATIVE POEM
(Writing assignment. ITS NOT SUPPOSE TO RHYME. Just so you know.)
Another plane went down today in the
Atlantic, nine miles off shore
Eight black cars sped by my window
Not a single of them you
Seven men brushed past me today
I stopped to see if I recognized them
Six fleeting calls from friends and family
All wondering where you are
Five minutes of crying while in the shower
Four of them spent staring at the wall
Three children died in that crash
Two mothers as well
One man died along with them
Zero of you came home to me.
(Written for a school assignment. The assignment was called "Misleading titles" I think I pulled it off.)
The pain was now his existence, as he settled there to breathe,
No mortal would stop him from sinking beneath.
Too weak to get up and fight, too strong to try again,
To settle here and die, or to close his eyes and leave with them.
He had killed so many, and still kept his name,
The blood flowed beneath him, making him insane.
Ever weary with his own life, and glad they were that he came,
Now they suffer below him, at the pain he would not claim.
Now he feels dense, for the hellish screams he unleashed,
As he walks away, leaving the men he killed to bleed.
He smiles at the night, knowing he is alive,
Hoping in the end, the darkness will suffocate him from inside.
WAR
(Eh, I guess it's a bit of a "rap" if you think about it. I say it in a pattern when I read it.)
It’s true what they say, about war
It’s the rich who start it, those that suffer being the poor
We work our butts off from day to day
Only to spill a little more blood, for you to stay in the good old USA.
I personally have no time, for this pointless violence
All I ask of you is a simple minute of silence!
You know that fleeting minute, when no one’s in pain?
But then again, we don’t really know how to play that game.
No screaming, no yelling, no playing, no fighting,
Try to run away from it all, just like I did.
You won’t get far, trust me on that,
They’ll pull you back in, dragging you on your back.
Let’s put away the guns and accusations please,
Maybe it’s time we pay a little respect to the world we've made!
The world’s not ours for the taking that’s for sure,
But we’re the USA, so we’ll make it our goal anyway!
In the end, it’s not the battles you’ve triumphantly won
Not the people you’ve killed, or those you’ve over run.
It’s the times you’ve fallen, and gotten right back up,
It’s the one’s you’ve lost and successfully over come.
CREASED
(Yep, personal, made for personal reasons.)
Folded, unfolded, folded….
I will never have the choice of coming undone
Crashing, burning, and this relentless yearning
I have the privilege of seeing it all from within
Never stopping, never slowing,
Never breathing, never showing
I will no longer pretend, I will no longer look away
I am here to show you that I am going to stay.
Creased, uncreased, creased….
I am scared, frightened, and alone
Weak, no direction, no place to run to
No place to call home
No red slippers to tap away with
No yellow bricks to follow
I have no map, no compass, and no sense
And I'll face the fact that I will be lost in shadow.
Bent, unbent, bent….
I will do the right thing, some how
Knowing this, as I do, helps in the end
Makes it all clear, makes me mend
Always raining, never calm
Always screaming, never sleeping
I am no longer human, no longer whole
Always weak, never strong
Always right, never wrong…
TWISTED
(An attempt at "Twisted Little Tales" a contest in my class.)
I think I will draw you a picture
A little picture, with a grand twist
You will never see it coming
Oh, how I do enjoy this
As I draw this picture
The images will come alive
You will watch the world I draw
Come off the paper and fly!
A river will form, pebbles, sand and stone
The water will flow past the banks
You will have to swim to stay up
You will have to fight to stay afloat
As the river overflows, pulling you with it
The pages will break, ruining my gift
As the pages break, the spine cracking
I will finally notice, I've made a big mistake
You will be long gone then, lost out in sea
I will not be able to protect you, the water too deep
So sadly, you will drift away, as everyone does in the end
I'll put away my book, and continue to pretend.
THE HAPPY GIRLS POEM
(I was a bit pissed, after having read a million sad little girl emo poems on mibba.com so I wrote a little diddle yelling at them.)
Welcome to the real world, everyone analysis this
Where contention is common, and hurting is a given
We're all suffering, in our own little conduct
We're all struggling with the demons we're fearful of.
I'm not going to bring up god in this modest poem
I'd hate to start a comment clash over viewpoints alone
Always summoning him up when you're sad and alone
I'm not going to believe in god just to feel at home
I'm uncomfortable, I'm scrawny, I'm stout, I'm huge
I'm pale, I'm black, I'm white, what is it to you?
I'm happy with myself, and what I have become
I don't cry about my exterior, I don't hide from the sun
I'm brash; I'm chock-full of myself, I love my life
I have no problems with making others effortlessly cry
I hold my chin up high, looking to the clouds over top
I don't wallow in self-pity, waiting for the pain to stop
Life demands more and more, each coming day
Who will save us, you ask, who will set us free?
The savior is within; the hero lies in your heart
You just need to get up, and stop falling apart.
Preaching strength is just like preaching the pain
So, I'll stop here and say this very last thing.
I'm sorry if I offended you, but you'll have to learn
Being helpful is not always happy, it should be worn.
Lying to make you smile, is not something I'm gonna do
I'm here to show you just what you can do.
I'll pat you on the back, and smile from here until you stand
I'm not here to shove you down; I'm here to help you in the end.
NINE – NARRATIVE POEM
(Writing assignment. ITS NOT SUPPOSE TO RHYME. Just so you know.)
Another plane went down today in the
Atlantic, nine miles off shore
Eight black cars sped by my window
Not a single of them you
Seven men brushed past me today
I stopped to see if I recognized them
Six fleeting calls from friends and family
All wondering where you are
Five minutes of crying while in the shower
Four of them spent staring at the wall
Three children died in that crash
Two mothers as well
One man died along with them
Zero of you came home to me.
Last edited:
Hope displays that the person who is written about thinks they are inferior. They have potential, but will not release it. I think Creased it powerful in that it shows a turmoil of your past. Lets hope you resolved this. 