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Poems about Beat
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I hate the way it makes me feel / to know your love just wasn’t real. / I hate that I was such a fool / nothing more than just your tool. /
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Whet scent fire... / The candle I write by / Works its’ magic / Of yellow and gray / Shadows over our lovers repast. / It brings to me / A cranberry pie; / Fruit and spices. / / What scent my lover.... / He smooths balm / With
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My mind is my enemy/So I live in my past
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I use to take pride in the eyes of my own, / / Knowing that no other could see me alone. / / Sight only saw from the split-second past, /
by ketchup4all
160 words,
on Jan 2 10:10 PM. In Angst, beat, life, dark, hope, love, pain, personal, sad, spiritual, thoughts
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There's this place / That feels different than most others, / A place where I'm wanted to stay, / Please never go away, / They'd die if I went away. / / There's this place / Where I am loved / Uncomprehendably and endlessly, / Where th
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I reflect the storm. / See it in my eyes? / Glimpse the end of all things, / time to embrace our demise. / Shudder warm confidence, / take a breath of cold fear. / Ask mom for forgiveness, / kiss bye all that was dear. / / Just walking
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Teeth clenched and biting, / straight jacket, yet fighting. / They pin me down, as / heart screams while bound. / walls of men pressing through white, / package me off to hide above height. / Seeing the ants, scurry below, / I touch but don’
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You yearn to live from hazy dreams of ill-kept smiles / standing back I sob and watch you fumble the dials / Your pain and unease move your hands, you guess. / Right then left, in search of happiness. / / Your painted lines fade from white down
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Mama, will you come to save me when my life has gone astray? / Bring me warm milk and cookies, / Pack my lunch with my name on it, / And help me through my day? / / Mama, when I'm sick will you wet a washcloth just for me? / Let me stay home
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the dog sound came from that sweaty man / who wore his collar open / his body hair on everything / the source would hardly be considered where raw fish is served / it was a wailing from a deep place that smelled of sour, human keeping / a comm
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Just a Random Exercise, feel free to comment
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Being happy isn’t all its cracked up to be / for, as Gibran said, sorrow is much more / noble and honorable. / Adding to your esteem and /
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I had a dream just the other night / before it was over it made me cry. / We were holding each other on an empty beach. / We were dancing so close we were cheek to cheek. / Then you told me you l
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To make the world a better place / what is it I would do? / The first that comes to mind / is do something nice for you. / Because if I could make you happy / that might make you smile. / Then the wor
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This is the story of Stinky Bill. / A man who's smell would make you ill. / A terrible voice that sounds so shrill. / He truly is a freak. / / Bill lives in a shack dingy and dark, / a place you wouldn't want embark. / A dog guards it with
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/ >A poem a day / keeps the boredom away. / That is what / I always say. / I pick up a pencil / and scribble away. / I write down in rhythm / what I want to convey. / When it is finished /
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The girls with white washed faces / Stagger through the lamp lit street / Into the seediest embraces of / Someone they’ll never meet. / Th
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It always seems to be / / that something on TV / / or something that I read / / strikes a cord in me. / / Then as something on my / / "heart strings" is strumming / / my emotions begin humming. / / Sometimes I laugh /
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There was a young boy named David / whose parents were always quite livid. / Young David was very bold / he didn't do as he was told. / David had several bad habits. / If he wanted something he'd grab it. / He'd run, cry and shout. / He'd th
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I saw a spider on the wall / and watched as it began to crawl / towards a fly upon the wall. / I simply had to wonde
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Tell me of the things I ask. / / Tell me of your years gone past. / / Tell me of the things you've done. / / The work you did, how you h
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I need inspiration / something oh so fine. / A thought sent down from Heaven / that would be devine. / / I need inspiration / something to
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I met an old man in the park one day / / when I sat down beside him, he said to go play. / / At first I thought that he was real mad / /
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In early year my mind was filled, / with helplessness and rage. / I kept myself from growing up, / by constructing my own cage. / / I knew
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Readin' / Writin' / POETRY / Hooks me / like a drug. / / I just want / a little bit
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Sometimes I write my poems / 'cause there's something I must say. / Sometimes I write my poems / to pass the time away. / Sometimes I'll write a poem / 'bout something I have seen. / Sometimes I'll write a poem / 'bout a really
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When he was a baby / he'd just start to cry. / There was nothing wrong with him. / He's mad's the reason why. / / When he was a toddler / he was prone to fits. / He seemed to like to stomp around / with tendencies to spit / / When he
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I sat upon the potty, / when I was a little boy. / I knew if I could do something, / it would bring my parents joy. / I'm sure I tried for
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Your squalid options aren’t enough, / Your hood and knife call no one’s bluff / As no one’s here to set you straight / And no one’s here now to berate / You for the loses you have made / And no one stops you until you’ve paid / For every singl
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