I watch as you take him
my chance falling fast,
I see as you steal him
from my grasp.

You know that I like him
yet you don't seem to care,
you know I've got a chance with him
yet you leave me none but Emo Bear.

I take the Bear's treasure
and feed it through my arm,
the pain is my pleasure
it shall do me no harm.

As the blood starts to run
the tears start to fall,
you stole away my fun
and that is not all.

When I rip the treasure
from my arm,
I fell the pleasure
it has done harm.

The sickness of your plan
and the sadness of your lie,
you know that I can
and do wish you would DIE.

You took away
what made me happy,
and everyday
your attitude is ******.

Just because your life *****
doesn't mean you have the right,
I've got some good luck
and I WILL PUT UP A FIGHT.

Thanks to you
I write this poem,
and thanks to you
it's sad, sick, and twisted.

No one likes me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Everybody hates me.
(razor blade, razor blade)
At 30, I feel more like 15.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I should dye my hair black.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And cut it into weird angles.
(razor blade, razor blade)
But I don't have enough black clothing.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I go to church.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I don't know how to put on eye liner.
(razor blade, razor blade)
And I listen to country music.
(razor blade, razor blade)
Wow.
(razor blade, razor blade)
I even **** at emo.

We poets
see things
hear things
say things
that others don't.

We see the beauty
within everything
We try to write the beauty we see
with words

when we love a person
we just don't love them for the figure
of their body
Or whatever else society says
that makes a person beautiful or perfect
When we love
we love them for
the sound of their laugh
the way they smile
talk,walk
the way they look at you
the way they kiss you
or the way they tell you things

We love them for past
for their mistakes
the small things
we poets love

We love the way the water glitters
the sun shines
and the way it rains
everything

We poets wish we could say things
and people would love the words you say

but  we poets and can cry tears
and make it look like a poem

people who hate poems though
we could feel sad for them
cause we know they'll never
be able to say the words of their heart

We
Are
Poets
Be happy
for we are poets