I do not speak in sombre tones
Not for me the gentle echo
Hushing through hallowed halls
I shall growl my way to the grave
Be ****** to the insignificant
And to hell with the indifferent
There are no rules or rulers
There are only fools and foolers

I need no-one else's straight lines
I have imagination enough to swerve
And spite enough to spin
Snapping snarling and seditious
Spitting venomous and vicious
Flamed by the world's injustice
And humanity's indifference
Not until I am dead burned and scattered
Shall I rest assured

                                By Phil Roberts

Painting words upon a shelf
we paint with colors for hope, and love
for our health
to have to hold
to keep like wealth.
I pray somehow I'll touch your soul
throughout the seasons
that we may know
painting words through it all
we protect each other
from potential falls...
we paint with words
like blankets of warmth
like soft down feathers 
we weave our words
so beautifully together
these books we've painted
upon our shelves
tell a story
of love, and wealth.

I won’t let you take me down
No, baby looks like I’ve won this final round
I’m tired of boxing with fists n’ gloves with you
can’t you just admit that we’re finally through
it’s been the same old song
it’s been the same old tune
let me go
let me go
leave me sleeping in my own bed
let me weep
let me sleep
I have my own sadness, and tears to shed
my own shattered dreams of what could have been
they’ve all been blown up
they’ve all been burned up to no end —
So let me go
let me go —
release my soul
I want to go
I want to go
Please leave me in silence
leave my soul alone
You have harmed me for too long
it’s time for you to move along
let me go
let me go
let me fly
my angel wings
have waved goodbye.

Since I've been writing, its been just great

Except for the one thing that I surely do hate

My family says that, I am speaking in rhyme

Not just right now, but all of the time

I can not simply, just ask for the juice

Without a poor imitation of the great Dr. Suess

But wait, on my site, there is prose, so you say

Oh, I was much younger when I wrote it that way

Help me, help me, tell me what can I do?

Surely this problem has happened to you

I just had a thought, not a thought, just a flicker

You could have answered, but I guess I was quicker

I'll think of a word that never can rhyme

And start using that word, all of the time

I know there's a word, I once heard from a fellow

I think it's a color but not red, blue, or yellow

I hope it's not pink, cause that would sure stink

I wish it was gray, I've been rhyming all day

I know you think orange, except that rhymes with sporange

And a mountain in Wales, that a poet named Blorenge

Until I stubbed my big toe, I used to think purple,

And now I can't walk, instead I just hirple

It sure would be gold if the color was silver

But that **** little lamb, also known as a chilver

There's no hope for me, I've been rhyming all month

I'm sure you can see, that I'm totally ??????

Yeah!

A morning thought, please think on this
I have woken up, feeling angel kiss

Heavenly visions dancing in my head
Placed in gentle slumber, while warm in bed

Wings of angels carry me
Through brilliant light, I cannot see

I'm blinded by the ecstasy
Just thinking of, what we could be