"appreciates" poems
My walls are crumbling down
And I'm not stopping them this time.
Because nobody appreciates
how hard I try to keep them up...
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
Let me simplify
What it is
He felt it in your eyes
He read it in your words
He knew it when you smile
He appreciates you so much
He sensed the fragrance in air
He started to trust your forever
He noticed when you get blushed
Remember
How warmly
He calls you, a rose
It can be
No other than
THE LOVE
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
You deserve someone who gives you
More than a shoulder to lean on--Someone who gives you
Their right arm,
Someone who protects your heart,
Nourishes your soul,
And keeps your spirit
Away from harm.
You deserve someone
Who brings out the very best in you,
Someone who appreciates
All that you are
And all that you do.
You deserve someone
Who wants you to be
Nothing more
Or nothing less
Than the real you,
Someone who will never
Extinguish the light
From the fire
That burns deep within you.
By Lady. R.F. (C)2018
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 3:59 AM UTC
Probability.
I sit here in class,
Seeing my teacher talk;
It's probably something useful
On probability.
How about the probability of my life?
Probability to do my homework;
Non because I've been called a ******** so many times, I've given up.
Probability of me getting the perfectly imperfect version of a boyfriend;
Zilch because no one appreciates a young healthy, very curvy sophomore with a DD,
Yet people who make fun of me will WISH and HOPE for my ******* in their future years
They will even get surgery just to make themselves like me,
So what is the practical probability they stop making fun of me;
Zilch!
Probability that I will be seen as more than an object to others;
******** to none because I don't make an effort anymore, not after sixth grade.
Probability I will ever feel completely good about myself as a whole;
Maybe because I have six awesome friends who don't put me down.
Probability my life will get better;
Someday but not today
My past made an irreplaceable mark on me
And my probability.
Will the percentage grow,
Along with my hopes?
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
life is full of searching
searching for someone who appreciates you,
who understands each deep thought
that fills your mind and holds your hand
even when those thoughts are unclear
we search for light in dark places,
hoping that things aren’t truly as
grim as they appear to be
we search for time and consequently
waste it in the process
so often we spend days and months
and years searching for something
we think will steady our hearts
step back and take a moment
to inhale and exhale with eyes closed,
and the one thing that will bring forth
pure joy will become clear, it will
stand out and beckon for your attention
you then have a choice:
either pretend you can find a light
more satisfying and continue to search
blindly for something that will never appear,
or look at the love and hope you’ve found,
and put your faith and trust in the
most brilliant light you’ll ever see
why would you keep searching
for stars in the shadows
when there’s already a sun
shining in your sky?
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
If grass was a girl,
She'd be so beautiful
That words wouldn't justify her.
They would have to be unwoven and recreated
For them to fit her.
She would shine and grow in the light,
But feel all of the pain in the world
When in the darkness.
It would make her wither away into nothingness
And disappear.
But, out of the blue,
She would appear again
To always be there for everyone who needs her.
Those people, however,
Would not appreciate her love
And would trample over her as if
She were nothing.
If grass was a girl,
She would be crushed by the world
And see a fractured image of it
Through a long broken window.
Her happiness would be stolen by the selfish,
Who take for themselves and never give back.
That's the thing
About the girl named "Grass".
She's broken, unable to differentiate
Between those who care about her
And those who do not.
She becomes isolated in a cocoon of sadness
Because no one appreciates her for who she is.
However,
A drop of rain later,
She is happy again
And becomes even more beautiful than she was before.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
There's always someone there that likes you.
Someone who laugh at your dumb jokes on the inside.
Someone who appreciates your weird talents.
Someone who likes having you around.
Someone who thinks you're the definition of beautiful.
Someone who looks a little deeper inside you.
Always remember that.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
Monday likes to be alone and warm.
Monday reads good books.
Monday watches the rain fall down windows and appreciates the rainbows that arrive afterwards.
Monday likes fuzzy blankets and hot cocoa.
Monday has perpetual bed head.
Monday likes to sleep in and stay up late.
Monday enjoys slow music.
Monday is a day for new beginnings.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 1:15 AM UTC
Working hard to fund my hobbies
Proud my hard work is starting to pay off
Work is better I'm there to do my job get paid
Not everyone appreciates what they have
I have my own car the freedom to leave whenever
I'm being responsible hoping to one day find true love
Sobriety makes the world clear living the straight edge life makes sense
I'm loving life thankful and blessed
I'm challenging myself to be more
Do more create opportunity grow as a person
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 2:38 AM UTC
They keep asking me
Did I do anything different
Not one bit
At last he appreciates me.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
one. you can't. everytime their name is mentioned, your heart can't help but beat a little too fast, your stomach can't help but sink a little too deep, and your mind reminds you of every time the words i'll never leave left their mouth, without hesitation. without uncertainity. without doubt. how could you feed my hollow self with your assurance when you were never sure yourself?
two. this is how it starts and this is how it will never end. with questions that'll always be left unanswered. with one piece of the puzzle always missing. with all the what if's and could have's, and why, and how can they?
three. the first thing you should realise is that they are capable of everything. stop the how can they, and the how come. if there's one thing i've learned is people can. they can hurt your fragile little self and shatter every bit of self worth they might've helped you build up, themselves. stop the questioning. you might not want to hear the answers as much as you think you do. they won't tell you what you want to hear. we, people, are self contradictory. we claim to want the truth, but that's not what we want. we create versions of truths in our ever lasting thoughts and make believe. we make believe to survive.
four. survive. breathe, breathe, breathe. take a look around you, take a look at the people you are surrounded with. we live in an astonishingly beautiful environment. try to look at the world as whole, and look at how insignificant that person that you're "in love" with is. look at how insignificant you are. take it in, take it in. you'll be able to get through this. your heart will mend, nature will take care of that.
five. you should stop blaming them. you should stop blaming yourself. and you should stop blaming the world. another thing i've learned is that, you will not always end up with the person you're in love with. and just because someone's in love with you, does not mean that they won't hurt you. and just because they've hurt you does not mean that they don't care for you. that's life. it's bias. it does not make sense but there's no use to try and make sense of it. you'll end up empty.
six. hatred is not forgetting. indifference is not forgetting. missing is not forgetting. longing is not forgetting. there's no forgetting. don't beat yourself up for still caring. it's humane. time. it'll take time. that person will fade away to the ((danger, danger. do not touch)) pile in your brain to rarely be thought of. yes, there will come a time in which you'll not think of them. take my lead, will you?
seven. this will be a long road. but you need to know that hurt does not last. hurt is not eternal. not one feeling is eternal, you'll get through this. some time soon, you'll meet this someone that'll make you feel things you've never thought you're capable of feeling. they were good to you, but you'll find someone who's good to you and appreciates you just as much. someone who will show you what to love about yourself, which is you whole. because god **** it, you're holy. you're lovely. you're wonderful. someone that'll make misery a foreign word to you. you'll find that someone soon, princess. i promise you.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
1.
Look! two butterflies entangled
in the thick of love, try extricating,flapping wings
girl, forget you're a doctor,let love resolve it.
2.
A strawberry touches her lips,
astonished I stop eating my peach;
where does the fruit end, her lips begin?
3.
Your dad is conservative,
mother is moderately appreciative,
every move of amour, has to be politically sensitive.
4.
On this bikini your body prattles,
a language unintelligible through, I am all ears,
darling, make your body speak, the lingo it truly appreciates.
5.
Water nymph, your bodyhugging dress
simultaneously does myriad things,
talks erotica, tries seduction,makes me a fool fumbling for words.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
Your infinite greatness makes you greater than all
Your infinite knowledge means you know all that is all
Your infinite power means you are as strong as can be
Your infinite love means you love everyone equally
You infinite wisdom makes you infinitely wise
Your infinite grandness makes me ponder why?
How could a being so infinite exist?
A being so great with knowledge above all
A being with power and wisdom that has no faults
A being who loves and appreciates me
Is it just me or does this sound absurd?
Would this being still exist if we didn't have hope?
We hope for his love and acceptance at death
Yet how do we know if he actually cares?
Thus how do we know if he’s actually real?
Maybe he's real or maybe he isn’t
Maybe he cares or maybe he doesn’t
When worst comes to worst
When I lose control
I hope for his attributes that make him above all
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
There is a story to tell.
I met a person.
There is much to tell.
Choked up emotions.
The person listens.
Reads my stories too.
Not only the intro,
but the whole thing through.
Tells me I am great,
when I know the truth.
This has to be fate.
Because it soothes.
Positive and,
Appreciates.
Hard work, effort.
Invigorates.
The person fills,
me with words.
When I am lost,
and I am slurred.
Hair so curly,
Maybe straight.
Not sure, did
not speculate.
Eyes brown,
maybe blue.
Come to think of it,
it is you.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 12:20 PM UTC
അ** Getting closer, to the just bloomed flower
that bewitched him in an instant,
the honey bee gets intoxicated
by the web of love,
the sweet flower threw around,
it felt more like a gentle caress
to which his heart jumped!
He starts to do an ecstatic dance,
never thought he could,
till this sweet moment arrived,
merely touching her soft petals
he flies high as if to proclaim his pleasure
buzzing a new tune he composed
for this special moment,
he circles the flower
as if to adore her beauty
form all possible angles
making the moments of love
so special for them both..
ആ** A butterfly enchanted by the flower,next
has a dance of love so different,
he would flit around and hover above
adore her beauty in a more relaxed pace,
he appreciates her silence to his soft declarations,
his love songs have no words, on air written
by the sprightly moves of his colorful wings,
he knows she loves it and his dance tells it all.
Like a kite on the waves of wind, he bobs on air
gently descending,looking at her eyes.
ഇ** The tailor bird who never misses
mother nature's children all,big and small,
in their myriad ways of loving and living
watches what's going on,
without batting an eye lid,
she has a doubt
"Who among these
lovers are more intense?"
she thinks aloud.**
ഈ** The sonorous singer,
Bulbul watching it all
from the hanging branch
of a Champak, flowered in
riotous profusion answers:
ഉ "Both are poets, no doubt,
of distinction too,
each of their deeds
spontaneous demonstrates,
with hearts full of love
they wave poetry around us
in ways ingenious
paired with flowers.
why compare them?
Mother nature's brush
dexterous paints each one of us
with such loving care and kindness
to infuse celebratory spirit,to the world,
never forget that,learn from the bees and butterflies."*
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 12:07 AM UTC
What is beauty?
What makes one thing more attractive than another?
How does beauty fade in our eyes when nothing outside has changed?
What is ugliness?
What makes one thing more attractive than another?
Why does something ugly become beautiful even though nothing outside has changed?
What is the difference between these two stanzas?
When a pretty girl looks ugly because of her inner awareness…
When an ugly girl displays attractive virtues in her inner awareness…
Why can’t I meet a girl that shows outer and inner beauty?
If a girl was treated like coal all its life
she would only know it was a jewel to those that had the time to see the truth within.
If a girl was treated like a jewel all its life
She would not be treated differently even if she didn’t show praiseworthy qualities,
But may show these qualities due to reciprocity.
Only when that lump of coal is treated enough like a jewel will it wish to shape itself like one.
Only when that jewel appreciates her attention will she shape herself like one.
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 4:09 AM UTC
the doctor cautioned me…
no rough S?x my boy, your coeur très ancien,
ain’t up to the task, in fact, i urge you to forgo
the goings on you love to write about, leave them
words on the page, six to eight inches (!) from the
tippy part of your…nose; for distance makes the heart
grow fonder, life longer, when you ticker gets that
‘lost that loving feeling’, keep it lost for now, cause
I no longer make home visitations and cancelled,
I did, the refills on your ****** scrip, keep your loving
confined to the twenty six alpa-bets, so you grow
old, well, alive, cursing my name repeatedly with
a strong God **** and I’m sure He’ll be listening,
cause I know He appreciates a **** good poem!
Jul 20, 2023
Jul 20, 2023 at 8:48 AM UTC
"Every single morning
for past forty-three years,
with a greased head
and a goofy smile,
he appreciates and ponders
about silly things:
his milk cartons,
all rusty pipes,
Rabbi's vintage car,
the berry shrubs,
and
her warm smile."
"Sweet Pea,
little did he know
that
she loves him too."
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
Doctor and Mrs Granger
took Mrs Thrift to the zoo
she was captivated by the antics
of the Zambian gnu
Doctor Granger took a photo of her
outside the lion's cage
he instructed Mrs Thrift not to upset
the lion as he'd go into a rampage
Mrs Granger was going to make a cup of tea
for all of them on their return
but she couldn't boil the water
as there was no water for the urn
the electrical pump on the water storage tank
had blown up
so there was no water at the Granger compound
to fill the tea cups
as soon as I heard about the water pump
at the Granger compound
I phoned Major Rogers
to bring his electrical repair kit around
he took a little over an hour and a half
to fix the ailing pump
so we'd be able to have a cup tea
whilst sitting on the tree stumps
next week there will be a recess
from the Granger tale
as the writer is going to take care
of her mountain load of mail
she appreciates the many good reviews
of the Granger series
and thinks that the fans of the said series
are a lovely lot of old dearies
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC
Where do thugs go?
Who do they run to?
Where do they call home?
Not a house that they go to, but a place where they feel belonged
How do they cope with the scarcity of love?
Thugs, not the kind that most women think they are attracted to; therefore, not the imposers
Not the kind who landed at the bottom of the hill, sliding from the top only to scrape off their rot
Not the ones who were born with all the right people in their corners, but boxed them off while trying to fight to be someone that they are not
Thugs, the ones who momma loves? Because he appreciates her worthiness, her works
She's the only real love he ever had since birth
Thugs; who can't really go places because trouble doubles
It multiplies whenever he is with his guys
Because they all know how it feel not to live under a roof
Neither one of them have anything to lose
His dudes are equal to himself cubed
They rely on one another like proofs
And they are radical from the roots
Living in a negative atmosphere trying to multiply it by itself
So that they can make it to where the grass is greener and the sun does shine
The other side of the number line
Where the gunfire and homicides are divided
And the dope is reduced
All their lives they have been thinking that they are enduring the truth
That they "cannot amount to nothing and cannot be put to use"
They are neck deep in the streets
And the authorities is at their throats like a crew
But nothing around them is cotton
So when their fingers symbolizes a "V" they are only representing the place where they have to be
And they are not weak, but sometimes they wishes that they can take off a week
Black cats can't chase yarn
Mexicans don't have a specific day for casual dressing
Asians don't get any waivers
Cubans can't take less hours for a semester of schooling
Haitians don't get vacations
The **** life is given
Difficult to make it
As it is to escape it
It's hard to deal
When all they know is reeling in deals
To people who are saltier than Dill's
While at the same time trying to act real... Kosher
Without a companion to share meals... How do they find closure?
Too busy being tyrannical
Never learned how to be grammatical
So **** just got "worser"
Interviewee for a job
Or being suave to a child's mom
Besides their eyes,
Their oration is just exposure
Not knowing their duration to exist on this surface
Thugs need love
It's hard to tell through his mean-mug
But he's hurting
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Everytime my nose catches your smell my world stops
And all I want is to stop time and smell you for hours
Because you smell like glory
You see, I fell for your smell before I fell for you my love
I wonder if your girl appreciates all of you the way I do
I wonder if she even notices how irresistible you are
You are so ******* special
And I wish I was your girl instead
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
Silence is the seconds after she sets her phone down and before he texts her back
She keeps it on vibrate so it doesn't wake me
That's pretty polite of her
I think it's cute she thinks I could fall asleep
My teeth tingle the good *** tingle when my head board shivers
Maybe memories
Maybe foreshadowing
She has different sighs
Ones for when she's sad, angry, overwhelmed
His texts and our hugs have the same sigh
That's how I know she still loves me
She says his name in bed
We both pretend it didn't happen
It's better that way
I keep her warm for him
She keeps me...
She keeps me
I don't go through her phone and read her text messages
She deletes them
That's polite of her
I don't ask about him
It's only polite of me
There's nothing more to be said
I get the good *** tingle when her phone vibrates
Not when it beeps though
Because if it beeps it's just her sister
And I don't want *** with her sister
She tells me I know things about her no one else knows
It's cute she thinks no one else knows
Can you count?
I can count
1 text 2 text 3 text
It's just like sheep
If the sheep were stealing your ****
She's not my ****
Just wanted to make that clear
She's his ****
I just stay here
I like it when she pretends he doesn't exist
It's polite of her
He exists
They say goodnight around three
When she turns her phone volume back up
I whisper good night
She pretends I don't whisper
I just hope if I have the last word she'll dream about me too
On occasion he turns her on
That's when we have the best ***
She keeps her eyes closed so she can see him
I close my eyes too
I like to imagine her eyes are open
Sometimes they fight
About me
We don't fight about him
She appreciates that I can hear it in her sighs
Sometimes his texts get frustrated sighs
Sometimes I get those too
Usually when I try and rest my hand on hers during silence
She doesn't like that
She likes him
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 10:52 AM UTC
Have you ever looked at someone and thought that they aren't completely good-looking, but they're so attractive like a raw form of art, and even emptiness?
People tell you to move on to the next (and real, pure) form of art but you see potential in this raw one, and you just want to watch that change; watch that space be filled up.
You think of that emptiness as something, because nothing is still something, no matter how paradoxical or illogical it seems.
You want to witness the metamorphosis and you believe that it will change before your eyes, so you watch close and just believe.
It's taking me awhile to move on to see more but this raw art piece really has taken the highlight exhibit in my art museum of a mind.
Maybe because I'm an artist, I'm positive about this and I just keep hoping I could witness the change, if not be the artist to do the change myself.
A certain raw art form in my life has been changing; I'm not able to observe closely but to hear about it is more than enough and relieves me.
To you who is reading this, we don't settle for the perfect in reality. In truth, there isn't a perfect in reality. We aren't all artists by profession or by the definition of 'artists', but once one learns to look at people this way, one can be an artist.
An artist believes, accepts, and appreciates; finding beauty in everything. Once you find beauty in even the most simple, mundane or raw form of art, you find the artist in you.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 9:09 AM UTC
sometimes i wonder what it's like to be a washcloth.
once a washcloth has been greasy and worn out,
someone who appreciates its worth takes it out from the workshop,
rubs it clean
removes all the grime, the dirt, the grease, the impurity
soaks it in a tub full of soap and warm water
then laid out to enjoy the breeze
and embrace the warmth of the sun
to start fresh, to start anew, to feel brand new again.
a clean slate for the washcloth; a repetitive process until it has been worn out on its last string.
i wonder what it's like to be a washcloth.
to be able to wring out all the scars, the wounds, the wickedness
and start anew every time.
but i guess that's what makes us human.
all the battle scars will remain as a lesson,
all the wickedness situated upon us will always convey a message,
and all the pain will serve its reminder that there is a brighter tomorrow.
but sometimes,
i can't help but wonder
what it's like to be a washcloth.
Aug 13, 2025
Aug 13, 2025 at 6:42 AM UTC
I remember when you said
I could tell you anything
But as soon as you found out my truth
You treat it like its nothing
Don't even care bout my happiness
Don't even care that I'm gay
You said you love me
As long as I do things your way
My own blood don't like me
I thought y'all be my last resort
But y'all minds small like the *****
You tuck in your shorts
When family turns you away
Just because I am a certain way
Can't deal with this ********
Gotta pack my bags and runway
I keep askin myself
Is it really worth the pain
To stay with people
Who turns my sunny skies to rain
Like a flower out the ground
I'm tryin to spout
But when I get stronger
Like a **** you try to throw me out
God knows I love y'all
But I can't handle this situation
I'm takin my things
And headed to the train station
Start a new life and find a soul mate
One who'll love me for everything and that appreciates
How sometimes freinds and family
They all turn against me
Just cause we two kings makin love so beautifully
God knows how much
I love my family
But they just don't understand
Why me an man be holding hands
Try to keep me away from him
They even told the preacher bout him
But our love is stronger
Nothin they do will keep me from him
I love my man so much
I just wanna be where ever he is
I'll travel cross country just to feel his kiss
And best of all he loves me
Even when nobody else agrees
The love we make is hotter than 100 degrees
And maybe one day
Everybody we'll see what I see him
And why I left my blood
Just so I can be with him
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:23 PM UTC