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 the community to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
He wished to be one,
but stronger than he, the laws
governing his body.
09/19/2018 2238
Ray Ross Sep 11
Mixing vodka and juices,
On Tuesday morning, Monday night,
The parents are asleep.
The stars are so bright.

My body is a temple,
You're damn right.
If it feels good enough,
I'll respect it tonight.

Bandage my chest,
Hurts my ribcage,
Shoving a sock in my pants,
Shouldn't have to be brave.

You should've been a brother,
Should've got the name right,
Should've been her son,
Instead I'm drinking tonight.
I asked my mother once,
What would you have done if I was born a girl?

She offered a name she considered,
but not the blessing—-
not the consideration that maybe,
just maybe,

I wasn’t supposed to be
quite like this.
ashton Sep 7
I want to correct you
Tell you who I really am
But I get tongue tied
Sick to my stomach
Full of dread

But I’m not
It’s he
I’m a boy
Not a girl not a lady
Just me
Today I got misgendered a lot and blah I hate it. Also, does anyone truly like being called a lady???
Grey Pryor Sep 1
I have been debating right and wrong my whole life.
I have been standing on a tightrope waiting for my emotions to crave it.
Being taught my favorite color since age 2 and the way I was supposed to be.
I have truly learned a few number of things,
the most important being suicide isn't the worst thing.
Failing to completely be who everyone chose you to be is the worst thing.
Not wearing a dress and tights to church on Sunday, not loving flowers or the color pink.
The worst thing is choosing who YOU want to be.
So I think I have found the reason it is more likely for someone like me to kill themselves off.
I am not who they or you wanted me to be.
I am free.
Azurel M Aug 31
The boy who dances
The girl who kissed
The man who romances
The woman who stood tall
The father who promises
The mother who knew all
And I, peering at my reflection
And all of them
Staring back at me,
Through a blur of tears
With eyes that shine behind her mask
They cry
Even though I love them
They cry
A chorus of heartbreak through muffled mouths
They cry
Because for one to shine means another must hide
And only she will be loved
and only she will be loved
and only she...
The boy who shatters
The girl who fears
The man who screams
The woman who whispers
The father who bleeds
The mother who drowns
And I, the one who is loved in pieces.
A poem about the masks that I wear for society.
Syv Elena Aug 30
I've never worn dresses
until I was 21
It counts as one of my successes
That now I own a ton

Back in elementary
I only had one friend
I remember on thing he said to me

"If you were a girly girl this wouldnt have happened"

All this time
I always felt like a boy
All this time
I was one of the "bros"

I've never worn makeup
until I was 23
But honestly I just never brought up
That I thought I was too ugly

I always thought I couldnt be a girl
Because I didnt have the body
I always thought I couldnt be a girl
Because I had no femininity

I always felt lost
Because I was always in between
But then the fog cleared up
When I found out about gender fluidity

It was the answer to my troubles
I never thought the moment came
I could finally put away my struggles
I could finally give it a name

Now everyday I wear a dress
I use makeup in excess
I finally have my feminine side
Which I had lost for a long time

I started to own myself
I started to let people know
That you can always find yourself
And learn as you grow
V Exeter Aug 14
Should I start by saying
I call myself a tranny?
Not all the time, but when I feel.
I'll be damned if I'll
lie down and beautify
my language.

I am, without a doubt,
harming our political cause
-- but, I am too human,
and there are phrases yet to yell.
I am human first.

Am I a 1/1 token
you'll sacrifice
to an enemy's sweeper?
Am I a 1/1 token
you'll sacrifice
to the loop of an outlet?

Should I start by saying,
I have noticed some women
and some men don't even
understand a basic piece
of my foundation?
Bottom line: I barely
produce testosterone,
and I'm fucking full
of estrogen.

So, bitch, how do you picture
my emotional output?
How do you picture my
emotional output?

I'm unimpressed.
And who am I,
but some stupid tranny?

If I'm really nothing to you,
why do you have such a hard time
pretending, every day, I don't exist?

Sara Kellie Aug 8
All my cups are put away,
all finished for the day.
I sit here quietly on my own
with nothing much to say.
Well no, ok that's not entirely true,
things would be different
sat here with you.

Remember how we'd dance to ads,
the ditties on TV.
We'd nod our heads,
a couple of berks.
Yeah, didn't we have some quirks.

These things I need to find again,
but can't envisage when.
I sit here and I wonder,
"Will I ever find you again"

Poetry by Kaydee.
Dedicated to my wife Natalie.
Sara Kellie Aug 6
You stopped to say hey,
but then you must,
you were with friends
so you just,
You must what?

We chatted before,
no friends,
You lust what?

You can't be true to you!
So what of me?
Disgust or lust?

Poetry by Kaydee.
A common occurrence that I know only too well.
Next page