Posts
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Questions, More, Or Less.
Equations stretch across a gridded page,
Looking like a jumble of lines and curves,
But they answer questions,
That have been wondered for ages,
And they solve the riddles of our world, -
The Flowers Of Your Personality
The flowers of your personality
Are always in full bloom.
The bees buzz around them,
Inspired by your strength.
The weeds are not present,
Repelled by your stance.
The hummingbirds flutter,
Admiring your peace. -
Carefree drops
The rain pitter-patters against the roof,
Dripping down the sides.
The pipes treat the steady streams
Like a water slide,
Twisting and turning their way down.
The constant drops thrum in my ears,
Echoing like a shout in a cave. -
Free, As It Should Be
The wind whips across the waves,
Howling, and whistling,
Ringing in my ears.
It blows closely to the water,
Not giving it any choice
But to give in,
And roll along the surface.
It washes away the clouds, -
Respect From The Scenery
The sand parts beneath my feet,
making way for my stance,
knowing that I am stronger.
The cool waves lap at my feet,
rushing over the skin,
knowing I need relief from the sand
that feels as hot as the sun. -
A Distance That Doesn't Show
My legs launch of the block,
At the sound of the buzzer.
I glide smoothly into the water,
Forming delicate splashes,
And tiny waves.
My feet kick,
Pushing and pulling the water.
My arms haul me forward,
Loves
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I Stay Quiet For A Reason
They wonder why I'm quiet...
They wonder why I don't show my feelings...
They wonder why I listen to everyone's problems...
They don't see the scars that I hide and hurt that I have felt...
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Being a Poet
Being a poet
I think to be a poet means
To be one to bleed out
On lined paper
And express the hurt
you must feel.
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the journal
i have always journaled,
ever since i was 6.
sure back then my entries were just doodles of my day,
but it still helped me convey my emotions.
i was at the shop with my mom,
