Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Apr 2018 R
Mister Granger
I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.
A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...
 Mar 2018 R
Eman
Home
 Mar 2018 R
Eman
Home is not the doorstep, not the porch, not the swing, it is not the ceiling and it is not a thing

Home is seeing your sisters empowered,
your parents at ease, your brothers relieved, your demons decieved

Home is a genuine smile, it is the authentic tears

Home is the magical word that can **** your fears

Home is a feeling embedded with layers of love, acceptance and peace
Home is a feeling.
 Mar 2018 R
Amanda Kay Burke
If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.
This is the first poem (that I have a copy of) i wrote that I actually thought was good. I was in seventh grade, twelve years old, and I wrote it for a newspaper competition. I knew it was really great but I didn't think I would beat all other applicants in the state in my age group. So you can imagine my surprise I'm sure when I DID win! That is the first time I was proud of my writing. So this one has a lot of special sentimental value. Thanks for reading.
 Mar 2018 R
Tiana Marie
She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.
 Mar 2018 R
nycteris
Origami
 Mar 2018 R
nycteris
each fold i forget
my troubles.
each crease satisfies
my obsessive tendencies.

every perfect creation
pushes me to make more.
they pile on my desk
and float down.

graceful little birds
hit the ground.
little sailboats sink
to the bottom of the sea.

overflowing desk
spilling into a mess.
cannot stop beautiful perfection
as my hands move beyond comprehension.
 Mar 2018 R
soliana
maybe
 Mar 2018 R
soliana
Maybe I wasn't worth the wait
Maybe I wasn't worth the time and space
Maybe I wasn't worth anything at all
Because when I told you to stay with me
You simply said you couldn't
I smiled and for one last time
and maybe I wasn't going to see it again
the sincerity in your eyes
As you turned your back
and closed the door
with the same hands that
held
my broken heart.
11:47 PM 11/8/17
- you said sorry and knew it was yours to begin with.
 Mar 2018 R
She Writes
Lonely Book
 Mar 2018 R
She Writes
I am a lonely book
On a dusty shelf
I am full of stories
Patiently waiting for a reader
To hang on every word
Read every line
Get lost between the pages
In my spine
 Mar 2018 R
TlvGuy
When he
 Mar 2018 R
TlvGuy
And when he cries I talk
And when he smiles I joke
But when he lies I smoke
And knock
And lock
And walk
 Mar 2018 R
TlvGuy
My Neighbor
 Mar 2018 R
TlvGuy
My neighbor
Steals my morning newspaper
Off my doorstep every day
For years
And now, he moved on
Maybe to another city
Maybe he's dead

As for Me,
I was left here
With unnecessary newspapers
And no one to focus
My burning hate on
 Mar 2018 R
TlvGuy
I saw him on a subway train
We looked on each other
The whole ride.
Not a single word,
No secret smiles.
Just a look,
deep in the eyes.

Maybe imagining the life
We could have together
Sitting on the white sand
Of Coney Island beach,
Enjoying our cosy home,
Getting warm near a fire place
On amazingly snowing day.

And then a cruel squeaking wheels noise made him leave the train
And took all our dreams away.

We won't see each other again.
See you in another life
My love
Next page