Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
Alexander T Sep 26
i remember a long time ago
sitting with my brothers
they were covered from head to toe
but not in what you might expect

we were in a big house
at my aunts
sitting in the hallway

in such a short time
they were so content
I didnt realize what it was
at the time I was only 6 or 7

like I said
covered
not in any ordinary substance
it was a recycled thing
very gross

you could not even guess
what I cant unsee

no boxers
no clothes
but still covered

having such a great time
playing in the stuff
tasting their handy work
pretending it was a sandwich

they were covered in
the most stinky thing they could find
or in their case, make
they were covered in
****
to my brothers. all grown up now. I hope you know better :)
AditiBoo Sep 11
I sat at my living-room table
Writing just to keep my mind stable
From the right enters my father
All pumped up and eager
"Set up the karaoke" he would ask
Who knew pressing 'on' was such an arduous task
'9169' he expertly presses
Frank Sinatra is the only person the remote addresses


'And now, the end is near'
**** right, if only I could barely hear
My father turns into a broadway singer
Of every word, he needs to create a picture
For the effort, I give him an outstanding 'A'
But the voice... 'My friends, I'll say it clear'...NAY!


Now he turns to me:  'Regrets, I've had a few'
"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" I yell on cue
'But then again, too few to mention'
As if that is supposed to appease my indignation!
Then he enters the 'diarrhoea' pose
The half squat, the clenched fist and the eyes closed
'I faced it all..
And I stood tall..'

'... and I did it my way'
Definitely not the sight of the day


In his mind the crowds, in awe, they cheer
But his audience of one will only cringe and jeer
Nonetheless, he goes on
After all, it is in the spirit of the song!
At the penultimate line, he stops midway
He gave up, oh yay!
But no, my father merely ran short of breath
It is not yet time to adorn him of a congratulatory wreath


He inhales deeply
This is no time to appear weakly!
He now waits for the catch up with the beat
With concentration, he taps his feet
'Yes, it was my waaayyyyy'
And I would have preferred it any other way!
arra Jun 7
It is the brightest moon
That makes me remember your smile
A smile that lights up my dark night
As I see your smile,
I see myself
Myself with you forever.
I hate cringey poems. Poems that talk too much about love and affection is not my forte and not fan of it and yet, I really made one?!I still don't know how did I wrote this 3 years ago. I didn't even remember who I am talking with this. Hey self, who's guy did you fling for this cringey poem? Lols. :P
HelpingHand45 Feb 17
Since Fortnite is incredibly bad,
I turn it off and get real sad.
As I sit there, a thought comes to me,
There's a better game, but it isn't free.
With a forceful tone and a loud holler,
I demand my mom to pay 30 dollars.
She buys the game, it's called PUBG,
The price of this game was worth the fee.
I fight my way to a Chicken Dinner,
I killed 6 men but I'm still a winner.
My mom barged in and yelled at me,
"How dare you game this late," said she.
I said "Sorry Mom," and gave her a shove,
She said "Game, game, game, my love."
thx fo the support #follow4follow
Poetic T Nov 2017
My mother told me the other day
                             she had ****!!
And that she couldn't walk straight.

"I'm a cow girl,

She giggled as she told me this!!
I'm an adult, but hearing it off
your mother is quite a little bit of
                                                    cringe.

"Ok a lot of cringe worthy glances"

She laughed as she walked off asking
if we had a soft pillow..

        *"I was never using that pillow again..
what is fiction and truth???
Kelli Sep 2017
He cringes
because he knows she only smiles like that for two reasons:
when she's talking to him
or when she has drunk so much that she's forgotten her name--
and they sure as **** aren't speaking.
Joshua Haines Jun 2017
Now,
Don't you tell me to chill.
Like the Beastie Boys I've
got a license to ill.
Over-confident for
insecurity's sake.
An ego so big
sudden drops could
cause a quake.

Now,
Shake-Sha-Shake
                    it up.
A poem so apathetic
it might give a ****.
Wanting to rap; also
wanting to write --
don't mistake my words
for something tight.
Debbie Ogenyi Apr 2017
I slept with a beating heart
Woke to the same rhythm
Like African drums from far
I feel my soul cringe
My body leap with fear
I think death more often than not
There is an unsettling I cant explain

Sometimes the source of pain is clear
Other times too complex to  figure out
How my tongue no longer taste
My mind has gone numb
Life essence is lost
As the clarity of worthlessness is evident
Once I thought I was more than this
Now  I'm completely unsure...  


In the midst of it all I choose to smile
To raise my hope above  once again
I had to become sure of all I hoped for
I celebrate every day I wake up to
And above all celebrate me
All that I am and will be
I am valuable, I am priceless
Somedays are blue and gloomy.... U WILL SURVIVE
Courtney Pruitt Feb 2017
Clenching my teeth,
I cringe while you read my old poems.

Ahhhhh!
That's not me!
I swear!
I've changed!
I'm not so immature!

There would be nothing more satisfying
than crumbling that **** up
and showing you how great I am.

But those poems are the legs I stand on.
I can't cut them off, can I?

Those awful poems!
Sporn from longing and **** -
I called it "love" -
my cranky post-grad years,
living with my parents,
and working minimum wage jobs...
all I hide is there, for you to see;
most people don't look.

I want to erase it all!
I sometimes hope my old poems
are accidentally thrown away.
Then I wouldn't be at fault for
all those lost thoughts.

I don't want you to read them,
but I just can't rid myself of them!
Even now,
when those reflections seem far from the truth.
I hoard them. They are pasted on my mirror.

So I stand,
begrudgingly transparent.
Front to back, see through
and scared shitless you'll
discover I'm not perfect
in this personality economy;
I prepare my list of apologies:

Sorry I'm scarred
Sorry I'm chopped
Sorry I'm *******.

So please —
don't talk about my old poems.
Let's pretend you haven't read them.
Revolting against identity management! It causes me so much anxiety :/
Kai Jan 2017
Love me or hate me,
I will never let you go,
Being with you makes my heart glow,
I will stay by your side holding your fragile hand,
look into your eyes so you could understand,
For you are the reason why my heart is still beating.
so cliche. ._.
Next page