You cannot deny your true feelings Nor can you hide your true thoughts One way or another it will show And you won't even realize
The truth cannot be hidden.
I decided to enter an anonymous poem in my college's poem contest where anyone was allowed to enter a poem about encouragement. I entered my haiku "Beauty." There's this girl constantly putting me down and telling me my writing is horrible. She has always disliked me for whatever reason she chooses. So, after I entered this contest, I figure out she was on the panel out of three judges and turns out she was the first one to pick my poem out of the bunch.
How the truth comes out! She likes my poetry and my writing, she just refuses to show me support for the sole reason she has a bias. But she likes my poetry!
Why don’t we have show and tell for scars? They are more important than materials we show They show the memories we can’t explain Scars last forever, but memories will eventually fade This world only looks at materials Some things you can’t hold but love more than the things you can Scars show how strong we are Scars show the hardships you lived through Scars show all the mistakes we did Scars show that you got back up again Scars are beautiful so embrace them as you do to your items
I need feedback so please don't hold back I am entering a poetry contest for school and need help
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We clamor for the answers On why Poetry always takes a back-step to everything else We've lost all the components of the belt It's still beautiful and heartfelt But it fails to implement welts Inside the barriers That refuse to be our carriers For any more to be in public print You better have the green eqivalent To enter this contest That you might not even win No wonder why we're so vulnerable to throwing our work into the trash bin Why should I lose money I worked so hard for To be circulated in the financial parkour? I'm not trashing them No disrespect But after a hefty inspect I think we can do better I'm so used to rejection letters I'm just not opulent or sophisticated enough I don't have a yacht like Billy Collins to splurge about I write purely what gives me an urge about Don't care for the money and the clout It won't make me pout I can tell you what Poetry is about No need for the textbook explanation That's not your destination It's about who you are How you feel How these thoughts reel What happened in your tri-optics And how we can solve it The world has churned out a campaign to ignore and omit it And they're almost successful Almost is as useful as a horseshoe against hand grenades Let me drink my Lemonade Writing line after line I know I'm not Elitist enough The edges of these words are kind of rough Or as the Poetry Foundation says vague Then explain why these poems almost always become trending? I guess I'll buy my seventy-nine cent pen and express myself Sit down and be laughed at the ones with their prestigious titles Looked at as another wannabe Even though I have the spirit like Ken Wantanabe I guess what will be, will be I'm just another bee in the Harvest Trying to be Independent Another lost soul in the forest I take pride in my work but I'm considered the poorest By the highest of the contempoaries With their personal Secretaries Thank you for your submission But it puts you into the Obiutary That they'll forget about
I'll make my own way Starting today Or was it many years ago? It's hard to truly decipher.
That Billy Collins quote about buying a seventy-nine cent pen and express yourself has always ****** me off. This is why we haven't gained any serious traction amongst the decades.