Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sticks and stones may break my bones
Razors and blades will break her skin
Tragedy and loss will break you heart
But in the end it's the cold hard truth that hurts
Twinkle twinkle little star how I wonder what you are

Up above the sky so high

Freedom I would like to try

Spend your days soaring in the air

Looking down with out a care
sticks and stones may break your bones,
but they will also start fires…

the importance of fire safety isn’t taken lightly,
so please take the time to act politely.

now no offense but from one girl to another,
you’re not Adele, Sean Kingston, or the Jonas Brothers.

do not set fire to the rain that pours,
call 9-1-1 before you burn up on the dance floor.

when the heat settles in and you’re feeling dry,
to your candles and cigarettes please say goodbye.

(since those items are illegal anyways,
you’ll be fined if they are caught ablaze).

this isn’t the Upper Room where fire fell on everyone’s head
keep the Holy Spirit’s fire set in your soul instead.

ignore this advice and your world will crash,
as before your eyes Miller Hall turns to ash.
wrote this for my friends who are doing a project on fire safety at my college campus, haha.
Wish I could run away
Wish it wasn't too late
In over my head
In over my head
No place to go
No fields to sow
Or ducks in a row
Nothing go show
But bruised broken
Wrinkled carcass of me
Was never Adam
Ate whole basket
Forbidden fruit
Roaming around the outskirts
Of a ghost town in my head
Somethings in there ..that I fear 
Like the others who all fled
I watch all day and listen at night
For the tell--tale sign
Sometimes I hear the hollow thump
Of a heartbeat other than mine
So I know its close
I can smell its breath
As it hovers over my trembling core
So close to death is that load of ****
Each time I draw it into my lungs
And my will is gone....
As I am drawn
Back to my weary watch
Of the ghost town in my head
One by one they all walked away
When they saw I chose **** instead
Of those I used to love.
Shhhhh... Did you hear that?
I found myself inside the sun
and lost myself in the winter winds.
It's no surprise to me anymore-
that I am prone to repeating my mistakes.
Convinced myself to run away
but I ended up running back.
Stuck here, wishing I would've kept my word-
but I'm not familiar with consistency.
I missed you as you were leaving
but nostalgia reminded me why I shouldn't.
History has a tendency to repeat itself
and it seems we're standing inside
a museum of our mistakes.
It has dawned on me-
our love had an expiration date
it was not fermented properly
so eventually everything just spoiled.
Love isn't fun for me anymore
it never really has been.
Everyone is always stop and go
when I always wish they would stay.
But I am not enough to keep them-
too much to handle
too much to tolerate.
Irrational and unpredictable-
these cons are too abundant
they outweigh the pros too often.
But my heart is big
and you make it feel too heavy to carry.
I loved myself once-
then I loved you instead
you felt there wasn't enough room for both.
I will not put melodies behind your madness,
I will not create metaphors for your mistakes.
I will not write poetry for your sadness,
I will not turn this into something beautiful.

That is not how this works.
Next page