Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poetic justice Jul 2020
An Agent of Assonance,
An Army of Alliteration,
A Conquistador of Climaxes,
A Fighter with Form,
A Marksman of Motif,
A Mercenary of Metaphors,
A Ninja of Nuances,
A Raider of Rhyme,
A Soldier of Synonyms
A Vigilante of Voice;

I strike with the fiercest of sentences, With such clarity and no false pretenses;

I assail with the mightiest of swords,
T am The Warrior of Words.
Poetic justice Jul 2020
INTERNET TROLLS LURKING, WITH JUDGMENTAL READING IN WHAT THEY SEE.

OVER ANALYZING THINKING THEY'RE KNOWING ME.

FROM MESSAGES HIDDEN WITHIN MY POETRY

THERE IS NO CRYPTIC SCRAMBLED THOUGHT.

JUST REAL LIFE IN RHYME. AND EMOTIONS FOUCHT.

THE TRUTH OF IT 15. AND IT'S PRETTY SAD.

YOU TAKE EVERYTHING GOOD, AND TWIST IT TO BAD.

ONE MORE THING THAT YOU CAN'T CHANGE, AND YOU MAY FIND THIS ONE A LITTLE STRANGE

IN YOUR BORED ANALYTICAL CURIOSITY, YOU RE WRONGLY ADDICTED TO MY POETRY.

WHATEVER IT IS WHATEVER YOU DO. I WISH YOU A SIMPLE SARCASTIC POETIC - *******.
Poetic justice Jun 2020
Sometimes in life ,
I slip and I stumble,
Despite this evil world,
I try to stay humble,
Things get me down ,
I often crack and I crumble,
people' talk behind my back,
they chat and they mumble,
but you can bet ya ***,
that I'm ready to rumble,
in this stereotypical ,
and discriminatory jungle.
Poetic justice Jun 2020
Seeking perfect rhythm in tune,

a poetic chorus of thoughts

begin singing,

just waiting to be written in

perfect harmony.

Words on paper, orchestrated for

the readers eyes to hear mentally,

they read the sounds of a poets

mind, silently listening ever so poetically.

Sights and sounds, never seen or heard, all created word
by
Word.
Poetic justice Jun 2020
How stale,

Life without passion,

The incarnation,

Of an Aquarian soul,

The mindful genius,

With an empty chest hole.
Poetic justice Jun 2020
If only souls would fall in love with souls, not with bodies.

So mary of us have became inexplicably lost in the worldliness and have forgotten that one day, all bodies will rot and decay, but the love that was shared by two souls will remain eternal and never fade away.
Poetic justice Jun 2020
Yes, a writer's blood is red, but we also bleed in a multitude of other colors as well. Our blood oozes red, black, blue, and 50 shades of graphite.

And we all tend to our wounds differently.

Some mistakenly try to cleanse their wounds with alcohol.

(it only burns, and delays the healing process.)

Some try to protect their healing wounds by concealing them as they try to stop the bleeding and avoid infection.

And then there are the writers. We leave our wounds exposed allowing them to be aired out, and willingly risking any and all chances of infection.

Yes, writers, we expose our wounds to the world, but only in the hopes of helping those who cover their wounds to know that they are not suffering alone, and to try to heal ourselves in the process.

Yes, writers bleed openly non-stop; in multitudes of colors.
Next page