Maira 6d
Poor Annaliese, with no knowledge about life
You lived your life sheltered
Out of human strife
You bathe with diamonds and rose scents
With golden spoon on your tongue
And a lot of dishes to pick upon.

Lovely fabrics; red, yellow and blue
Glass slippers— Cinderelly you're true
Smile Annaliese, Show your warmth
Show ignorance, Let them know you're proud
Wave side to side, Gentle curtsy my dear
Show off your wealth, Know no fear
Silly Annaliese, When you laugh they shouldn't hear

You sheltered brat, arrogant and rude
You dance so well and fake good
Goodness gracious, what would happen if you stepped out of your castle
Will you be able to survive the riot? The rattle?
Damn, Annaliese, learn to live!
Stop being dependent on what your majesty gives
Mystic Ink Apr 6
Everyday I’m inspired
I have to pay someone royalty for
inspiring me.

I would have
ask for royalty
in return.

Let's make it,
Get it,
Genre: eXperimental
Theme: Mutual understanding
Ordeezy Mar 29
I have seen God.
Her head raised high, poised and beautiful
Smooth skin that seems to control nature in her veins.
In her was history, the first, the genesis.
Her love is impartial, incomparable.

I have seen God
In different shades of earth and nature
Made of Protons, neutrons, melanin
She is root; the source of life
Life itself, the very beginning.

I have seen God
She would trade her life for her children
She’s an armour and life jacket
She is the source of life and peace.
She is more than an angel, she is a god.

I have seen God
She is black.
Tiana Marie Mar 6
I don't know who she is,
but I can make
believe the truth.

She’s a princess
Of an island
Somewhere right outside Peru.

She’s the daughter
Of a grand king
And a lovely queen too.

I imagine
A long line
Of men who’d want to pursue

The fair maiden
the heiress
Of a throne she’ll soon assume.

She’ll rule with power and grace,
A smile on her face,
Kindness in her heart,
She’ll give the kingdom a new start.

Though some may doubt,
I know that's who she'll be.
Even if she's not,
She'll always be a princess to me.
Gale L Mccoy Mar 2
i will sit on a mantle of my own making
sip on wine I made myself
wear a gown of my own inspiration
pluck the crown from the mud at my feet
walk with the knowledge of my deeds
I will no more abandon my thrown
as small and neglected as it is
it will grow with me and i with it
SoZaka Feb 28
hail the queen
of the royal family's pride
she knows her king
and where his enemies hide
if I am a lion, she is a lioness
nurturing me with gentle fearlessness
  love guides my voice,
 humility it's tone
in proclaiming the "king of the land"
is not the one on the throne
 of this, I confess,
I bow to her majesty
the lioness"
How sad, how tragic,
How tragically sad.
A girl with not fifteen summers of life
Holding a nation’s affairs on her ebony shoulders.
Such a pretty young thing,
Strongminded and headstrong.
So bright
And a truly sweet flower.
That head is far too young for that crown
But not a thing is to be done
To stop this flower from being crushed
Without crushing her petals in the process.
This poem appears as part of a collection. Read it in full here:
More gold on her arms than in any treasury
That this state has ever known.
More kohl in her eyes
Than coal in any of the nation’s mines.
Her crown with gilded leaves,
Outshone by the melted gold on sharpened thorns,
Is one to rival the King of Jews himself.
And surely her bands are enough
To stop a gladiator in his tracks.
But it is her empire
That gives this femme fatale her magnificent pride
She cares not for her possessions
Only for her people,
For the men who ride behind her
Against anyone foolish enough to oppose.
She cares for her castle, a fortress of grandeur
And for the high court leading her world.
She cares not for shining armor
But for their knights, standing atop the walls
She cares not for her crown but for her throne
And not for any prince but her own son.
She cares for the Empire.
Her Empire.
This poem appears as part of a collection. Read it in full here:
Tonight, we live like kings:
Hijack the prison and break out our dreams;
Kick off our shoes and rip our jeans;
Sing until our lungs burst at the seams.
Tonight, we are wild and free:
We’ll climb up skyscrapers and then ride the breeze
With our broken wings.
Tomorrow we’ll be damaged teens,
But tonight, we live like kings.
Imagine this, but the chorus of a song.
Michael Pham Feb 8
how can you call yourself a king
when you're not even living in a monarchy?

how can you call yourself a king
when you treat everyone like they're peasants?

how can you call yourself a king
when your heart is made out of fool's gold?

and how can you call yourself a king
when you don't even know what it takes
to be one?
a.k.a. fuckboys that think they're the shit and call themselves kings because of their overly sensitive lookin asses.
Next page