I usually know how to say how I feel, but this sadness is too great
Can't write it beautifully, just cry
Every waking moment tears are streaming, nothing can stop them from falling

I wrote you a letter
That you will carry with you forever

I'm sorry
I cannot say
Or write
Anything great

There are some nights when
sleep plays coy,
aloof and disdainful.
And all the wiles
that I employ to win
its service to my side
are useless as wounded pride,
and much more painful.

Your hands easy
weight, teasing the bees
hived in my hair, your smile at the
***** of my cheek. On the
occasion, you press
above me, glowing, spouting
readiness, mystery rapes
my reason

When you have withdrawn
your self and the magic, when
only the smell of your
love lingers between
my *******, then, only
then, can I greedily consume
your presence.

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

It saddens me when
people use poetry
to talk badly about someone else
Poetry is suppose to be fun
not a competive sport.
Why can't we
just all support one another
and be suggestive.
We all feel the same things.
We all be through alot;
that's what usually
makes a great poet.
So stop hating on people,
it is uncalled for.
This isn't middle school.
If you have a problem
with someone then
talk to them about
or block them...
Yes, hello poetry has a
block button**
feel free to use anytime
you have a problem someone
and get on with life.

Alone in a room
A comforting thought.
When outside open, flailing
It is the only thing you want.

But when inside the covers
You feel only dread.
Taunting thoughts tease
Dancing in your head.

You jump back in the waters
Helpless and Scared.
Imaginary sharks nip at your organs
You feel a pierce at every glare.

The pain is never temporary
It follows in your sleep.
Every breathe you take
Is a hopeless cry, a never ending weep.

You eat peoples words
A poison sent from hell.
Digestions through intestines
Another soul to sell.

Alone, away, together
With this new order
You never want to feel
As a person in disorder.

-e.m