A broken light bulb.
A shattered dream.
A life wasted.
It's not what it seems.
A broken family.
Stressed and tired.
Chance after chance.
Will it ever expire?
Is it worth it?
The tears, the screams.
We are hypocrites.
Shaming you for breaking the bulb.
Yet, we cut ourselves trying to fix it.
My momma made me afraid of love
She said “there’s nothing you can do to make a man put you above”.
I used to hear her cry when my dad would hit her.
My heart would quake and my thoughts still bitter.
Since then, I don’t sleep through the night,
I check up on her, make sure they won’t fight.
There’s a rock in my throat and the water is filling,
I feel like I’m drowning and this feeling is killing.
If I ever get married, I pray to god,
He won’t make me hide my feelings behind a facade.
If he touches my face, it won’t be to hit me,
But if he does I ask that god would just kill me.
He beat my momma and me and my brother too,
Bruises on our faces, we stayed home from school.
After all of that it wasn’t enough,
That’s why my momma warns me
Don’t fall in love.
being a poet in love
means writing down
every single emotion
you’ve ever felt on to paper
it means turning simple things
about a person into
deep details that only
you would notice
such as when the one you
love simply smiles at you
that could turn into
“his mouth turned upward into
a small smile upon his cheeks
making my stomach erupt
into tiny butterflies”
it means writing every single
interaction you’ve had with that
person and turning it into something
poetic and beautiful even if it’s as
simple as a smile
it means letting your heart
do the writing for you as the
emotions pour out of your mind
but it also means heartbreak
lots and lots of heartbreak
having your heartbroken
even helps poets write about
being in love
it’s hard being a poet in love
because we can never find
someone who truly wants
to be written about
How To Write The Perfect Poem
So you want to write a poem
The world will want to view
One that is so perfect
It will change a life or two
You can try to make it funny
And make the readers laugh
Or maybe a love story
That will bring a feeling back
You can try to bring them into it
Let them feel the pain
Show them their's a different side
A new path they can take
You can let them see deep within
Give them something new
Have them ask a question
Or answer one for you
You can write the perfect poem
If it's what you want to do
Just take the time and feel the words
That are deep inside of you
But know that many poems of the past
They get read by very few
Still each poem, your poem is just perfect
If it touches only you
Write your perfect poem
Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts (Joe)
The stars in the sky.
At which I stare at for hours
Metaphors for the faults and the perfections
Living within all of us.
The mountains in the distance.
Strong and everlasting.
A constant reminder to live,
And be fierce,
To brave the wind and embrace
To withstand the erosion and corruption
Of the surrounding world.
The bluest of hues in the sky.
A bright notification that I am here.
I am alive.
I make mistakes, such are the clouds.
But I can still thrive.
The moon in my view.
Crater littered and dust filled.
Unappreciated for its work.
Controlling the tides of emotions that
Fester within me within you.
A weed, a pest, yet a beautiful metaphor
That we are not what we seem.
Delicate and eloquent
A staple of love that sounds silly
Alluring and mesmerizing
A song of no words.
The music that keeps me awake at night.
A melody of feelings and thoughts.
Questions with little answers which are hard to seek and even harder to fathom.
But you are of utmost importance.
A plethora of lessons that impact me deeper than you could ever know
Not because of lack of will
Yet a lack of my coveyance
A lack of my empathy
A lack of my heart.
Maybe it is lost too.
in a sea of perpetual fear
fear of being wrong,
fear of being right.
i never would've thought
it'd be this hard
happiness is all consuming
until it's not.
i am lost.
as well as you.
i cannot lose you.
who would've thought,
it'd be this hard
How foolish I am to waste away like this.
Inhale the temporary relief that i feel keeps me alive.
Exhale precious time i once had
Time to love and be loved.
Time to laugh and create laughter.
How Selfish I am to lead a life like this.
How Hypocritical i am.
To tell others you must love yourself
But deep inside, when i am alone
I hate myself.
To tell others they must live and prosper
When i sit and drift deeper into my own suicide
I am broken.
A walking contradiction of what i want and what i do
things i love i really despise and i
i am wonderful
but who really is?
He who kills himself knows something we do not.
But i who kill myself am ignorant to
things i always hear and always resonate with
But i do Not change.
You are my hardest goodbye
and i hate that i love you more than anything or anyone else
but you have me wrapped around your
One Hundred Millimeters
I try, but I Fail.
My failures surpass my wishful thinking.
and i fail.