I combat my urge to run from math
Class by being poetic
I let the words flow out of my mouth
Like a waterfall and my
Friend laughs as I attempt
To make poetry out of thin air
It's easier to make it out of thick air
You have more to work with.
I tell her I'm figuring out the
Meaning of life is life
Because I don't get what I'm
Saying I just don't want to realize
I can't count to three
As my friend pointed out
During a card game
In which I lied and they called me out
I'm not superman you know
And I can't even figure out
What the cosine is of 23
Without my calculator
And I want to punch
The people who say English
***** because it's hard
They don't see what I see
If English *****
It ***** like a vaccum
Or a straw
A good *****.
And I remember falling asleep with a
Book on my head in the hallway
Hoping for tomorrow
When I get to slam poetry

why are we here
why are we there
I never asked to be anywhere
first we're born
then we die
we learn life on the fly
sometimes happy
sometimes mad
they make pills, if you're sad
some of us smoke
some of us drink
life *****, is what I think
is there there heaven
is there hell
on that subject, I don't dwell
what about god
what about not
title of this poem, I forgot

I hate society
thanks to society I can't meet my boyfriend
thanks to society I can't meet my best friend
why you ask
they're from the middle east
and apparently everyone from the middle east is bad
well thats *******
just because of 9/11

I mean an American killed a bunch of little kids
at Sandy Hook
That doesn't mean all Americans are evil

We have security in place for a reason
what ******* is going to carry weapons on a plane
if they do a full body scan

Society is ****** up
But what can I do?

You feel so alone, the truth about life
A way to comprehend, the colors inside
Deceptions at hand, what's originally right
You got to be careful, it's a beautiful light
Reality is unknown, what everyone else knows
As if I ever knew, to me will never show
In His image, is what we are
Unimaginable thoughts, this may be of sin
The fall of man, no clarification
Free will is proven, within your boundaries
Beyond you see, even with the mainstream
You stream mainly what, you choose what it is
In what context, your mind is your limit
And free will is fake, your perception is wrong
Your feelings are gay, a fool is how one reads
How one understands, can none be there
Where i go, my own land
Alone we are, together we think
The lessons we learn, the styles we live
Yet we forget, as infinities twin
No more than zero, it's such a joke
To ask for us, below the core
Not for us, our being is just

My nose is out to get me
It’s giving me the fear
It sneaks about when I’m asleep
And whispers in my ear
But when my eyes are open
It’s clearly in my sight
I think I’ll have to stick it down
With Sellotape at night

My nose is pitched against me
When ever someone bakes
It drags me by my helpless face
And points me at the cakes
It leads me into trouble
And I’ve no choice but to follow
It has a lot of pulling power
Although it’s two-thirds hollow

My nose is trying to **** me
I think it’s lost the plot
It sometimes sits there dribbling
And twitching on the spot
It scowls at me with malice
And it’s evil nostrils flare
My nose is picking on me
And I'm slowly going spare

Making something
from nothing,
is harder than it seems.

We all have our place in this world,
a talent unique to each,
a calling,
a purpose,
a reason to breath...
so maybe that's why my lungs hurt.
they struggle each intake
and nearly give up on the out.

Drums beat slow in the distance,
and so many walk to the beat-
but my uncoordinated feet stumble soddenly.
My fingers are long,
but fumble too quick to play music,
so I cannot create my own beat.

We all reside at the bottom of a pit,
black and coarse,
with the light of the world atop,
gathering at the edges, we start to climb,
but I'm too weak and cannot get very far.
I'm left behind by the others
strong enough to climb to the top,
and no matter how hard I work,
my arms remain weak,
so I sit at the bottom
watching the other weak
gain the strength to climb the walls.

The beautiful,
the bold,
the brave,
the blind,
the clever,
the artistic,
the talented,
the determined,
the kind,
the old,
all kinds of people
in all kinds of color
and sizes
find their own way,
yet mine remains imponderable.

I drag my feet to the sound of silence.
I push through the next breath.
my weak arms barely holding on.

I'm nothing
that simply can't become something.