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Corndog08 Apr 2015
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Corndog08 May 2014
I'm angry,
I'm sad,
I'm happy,
I'm glad,
I wish,
I cry,
I jump,
I fly.
Mmm
Art
Corndog08 Oct 2014
Art
Art is a form of language,
old,new,

Art is a think to do,
whilst supposed to do math,

Poetry is a thing,
to do when you run out of ideas.
Corndog08 Sep 2014
She lived deep in the forest,
in a tiny little cottage,
she sold little hearbal remedies,
****** mary,
****** mary.

For she was kinda weird,
for she was called a witch,
none dared to go to her house,
****** mary,
****** mary.

She was accused for drying cows,
and for rotting stored food,
when children cought a cold,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Little girls in a village,
began to disappear,
one by one they all went,
****** mary,
****** mary.

No one found,
wheere the children went,
they simply just vanished,
****** mary,
****** mary.

A few brave souls,
went to the cottage,
to see what they could find,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Denied she told,
to those brave souls,
she now looked attractive,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Then came a night,
where a little girl,
walked away at night,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Her mother screamed,
her father worried,
but she kept on walking,
****** mary,
****** mary.

The townsmen saw,
a glowing light,
coming from the woods,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Then they say,
behind a tree,
standing the unseen,
****** mary,
****** mary.

It was mary,
being scary,
pointing at the girls house,
****** mary,
****** mary.

They shot,
and stabbed,
upon mary,
****** mary,
****** mary.

Mr miller shot her,
whith a silver bullet,
in the hip,
****** mary,
****** mary.

the townsfolk grabed her,
and burned her,
at the stake,
****** mary,
****** mary.

But as she died,
she scramed a curse,
at those who say her name,
****** mary,
****** mary.

She said if you,
say her name three times,
infront of a mirror,
****** mary,
****** mary.

You will die,
if you say those,
****** mary,
****** mary,
****** mary.
Corndog08 May 2014
my body is white
but my soul is black
I live in the city
but I belong in the country
my eyes are brown
but I see blue
my wrinkles are visible
but I'm only 12
I write my poems
to express myself
Corndog08 May 2014
You smoke parliaments to warm up
The way you inhale and exhale
The smoke curls around your lips like music
Somehow you can make even the worst things look beautiful
You hold the cigarette between your fingertips
And talk to the hipsters around you  
All so much alike, but all so different
You try to exhale your problems
Along with the smoke
I look at you and wish it was me you crave
My breath going in and out of your lungs
My fingers that you hold so carefully between yours
:)
Corndog08 May 2014
Donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts,
donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts,
donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts,
donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts,
donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts,
donuts, donuts, donuts, donuts.
Corndog08 Nov 2014
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Scroll up and down really fast.
Corndog08 Nov 2014
Following is a way of showing that we are popular.
Followers are people who make us popular.
Followers are people who give us life.
Followers are people who make us.
Corndog08 Dec 2015
Is it sad,
the way I sit,
right here in class,
acting like a ****,
writing little poems,
that show the way I feel,
the way I act,
is this real?
Corndog08 May 2014
There was a man called Woogers,
Who liked to eat his boogers,
All the kids in the street,
Thought it was a disgusting feat,
He almost stopped,
But then he popped,
All of his raging boils.

There was a man named Soils,
Who liked to pop his boils,
All the animals around,
Thought it was a disgusting sound,
So he stopped,
And dropped,
Dead.
Please reply!!!
Corndog08 Sep 2014
My love,
this one goes out,
to the most beautiful,
**** scout.
Her face is gold,
her smell is sweet,
her hand are soft,
i love her feet.
It may sound weird,
what I write,
but my love,
my life,
my heart.
my teddybear,
a sweet,
cherry blossom,
of pure bliss,
she is my, only possum.
Corndog08 Sep 2016
Never would I ever smoke a cigar,
promise made to mother and the lonesome pa,
promised not to drink, Verdi in a cup,
but now have times changed, not just a little pup,
we promise all these things, to the ones we love so much,
but not one person is innocent, no innocent is such.
Corndog08 Sep 2014
Oh band aids,
You are more to me than women,
You’re brown, holey and sticky,
With your beautiful pores,
You stick to my skin,
Till a scab may form,
You protect my wounds,
And my hygiene,
But,
When its time to go,
You must have to stay,
You stick,
I pull,
Until you are away,
In the bin,
You will go,
Until my brother,
Decides to eat you.
Corndog08 Sep 2014
Deep in the cupboard,
hiding in the dark,
there silently,
but still,
27 eyes staring,
waiting...waiting,
skin,
damp,
cold,
arms extending,
creeping outwards,
but only slight movement,
as it leans against the wall,
hiding...hiding,
waiting for the time,
to go out,
creeping...creeping,
opening the door,
awaiting its enemy,
hiding from being,
chopped,
boiled,
skinned,
poor...poor,
POTATOE!!!
This poem is made by my friend Jessica Stone.
Corndog08 Dec 2015
How to be a depressing little ****,
Sit in your room,
Alone in the dark,
Listening to music,
Eating rice crackers,
Is how to be a depressing little ****.
I did this last night.
Corndog08 May 2014
I BRING you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams,
I bring you my passionate rhyme.
Shared for William Butler Yeats!!!
Corndog08 May 2014
Soccer is love,
soccer is life.
Corndog08 Dec 2015
The click,
the one click,
can show the difference,
between the yes',
and the no's,
the click is the thing,
that some let control them,
the click of a 'like'
the click of 'friend,
the thing that is,
more powerful than any drug,
stronger than coke,
stronger than ***,
that feeling of ecstasy,
when someone follows you.
Corndog08 Nov 2014
Nobody likes teachers,
because they don't like us,
noboby likes it,
when they make a fuss.

Nobody likes parents,
when they say they're swag,
nobody likes it,
when they all nag.

Nobody likes old people,
cause they're "fun",
nobody likes it,
when they try to run.
Corndog08 Aug 2015
When I go to school,
I see them, the cool,
The ones out the back,
The ones on crack,

The pushers of nerds,
The killers of birds,
Without a care,
No moment to spare,

But secrets they hold,
The weak and bold,
They're lonely and scared,
They tease the visually impaired,

Without their posse,
Or the glossy,
Without their 'friends',
Their group ends.
Corndog08 Sep 2014
When the chickens come to town,
do not smile,
do not frown,
sacrafice Mrs Hicken,
sacrafice Mr Dicken,
run away from the chickens,
jump away from the zickens.

When the chickens jump up and down,
do not abreviate,
do not noun.
sacrafice Mrs Houn,
sacrafice Mr Boun,
run away from the ground,
try to not, make a sound.

When the chickens fall from the sky,
do not winge,
do not cry,
sacrafice Mrs Dye,
sacrafice Mr McKye,
duck away from the sky,
no billy, you can not fly.

When the sky, starts to fall out chickens,
not do slow,
not do quicken,
Mrs Sacrafice you will dicken,
Mr Sacrafice you will sicken,
sky away, from the stabbin'
die away, from the kebabin'.
Corndog08 Sep 2014
Why oh why,
the woodpecker cry,
am I so lonely,
is this why,
I eat caterpillers,
I eat tree,
I peck at the bark,
but this is just me,
my brothers and sisters,
aboandond me,
long ago in my woodpecker tree,
I only loved them for three seconds more,
until they fell to the woodlands floor,
six were us,
now we are one,
this is it,
this is the the end,
I miss them all,
they left me to fend.
Corndog08 May 2014
When the wind blows,
I cry,
not because I'm sad ,
but because in glad,

When the sun shines,
I smile,
Not in a way that's sappy,
but in a way that's happy,

When I see my brother,
I feel love,
not because I love him,
but because I enjoy him.
Corndog08 Oct 2014
Zain is peeing me off,
he is really annoying,
he is a big cow,
because he called me a cow.

— The End —