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ADEOLUWAJOJU Dec 2018
Boys cry
But men think they shouldn’t
Girls cry
But women sob

Boys play
But men joke
Girls play
But women are serious

Boys are real
Among themselves
But men pretend
Girls pretend
Among themselves
But women fake it

Boys act like they know
But men aspire to become
Girls "wanna be"
But women aspire to be better

Boys like
Men fall in love
But men play with your feelings
Girls crush
Women love
But women love too hard

Boys love competition
But Men love power
Girls love Friendship
But Women love Class

Boys hate chores
But men can now cook
Girls love chores
But Women now do more than chores

Boys dream,
But men achieve
When boys lie, girls believe
But women are those that make the men
Women they make the will to bend

Boys are young can do no wrong
Men are calculated, they know what’s wrong
Girls are young they make heads turn
Women are smart could make kingdoms burn
John Stevens Jan 2015
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.

Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.

They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
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05-18-18.   42,400 times
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10-18-19    62,000 times
Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
Brie Pizzi Jan 2017
you may be difficult to love but that doesn't mean you're any less deserving of it

he can break your promises

you can't force change

each time you love, you love harder

each love you have will be different, incomparable (but you may try to)

you create your own limit on forgiveness

he will help you see your beauty, but that doesn't mean when he leaves it leaves with him

love alone isn't enough

distance will affect a relationship

you will be gullible when it comes to love

love should not make you weak, it should empower you

head vs. heart is a real thing

boys will trick you into thinking they are genuine. When you discover they aren't, don't blame yourself, leave

you can't force him to be anything more than what he is

people express love in different ways

time will pass, and you may still feel the same

keeping yourself busy will help, but not for long

one day you will wake up and it won't hurt anymore

he can love you, and still hurt you

you can love him, and still hurt him

not all relationships are meant to last

just because you haven't been alone doesn't mean you can't be

love should be selfless

love can make you angry, angrier than you ever thought was possible

sometimes it's easier to just forgive him, even though you know you shouldn't

you can love someone, and still break up with him/her

you can't control how you feel or who you fall for

sometimes staying will hurt you more than leaving

break ups will show you who's really there for you

you will try everything in you to believe his words even though deep down you know they aren't sincere

sometimes we want what we want even if we know it's going to **** us

he will feel hurt, and try to hurt you back

you cannot grow too dependent on him because he can leave

never settle for anything less than what you deserve

Your mind may trick abuse for love

Sometimes old love comes back; that's not always a bad thing

Time alone makes you realize who you need in your life

Some nights will be good, others will be bad

Always go with your gut feeling

You pictured your life once without him, you can do it again

Don't drag someone along when you have no intentions on keeping them

Love doesn't always make sense

Sometimes you are the problem

Be brave even when it's hard

Never settle in order to make others happy

You can always start over
Pixie Ellis Aug 2018
We spend one day together, in the park and now the sun reminds me of you.

It was 29 degrees and the sun still couldn’t match your brightness.
29 degrees and you were still the brightest star in my sky.  
I think back to my diary, when I told her we would forge a picnic from the empty living room and yet here we are.

The cream carpet, now green grass and my heart melts in your hands.
Sizzling air beats down on our pale skin as my heart beats a mile a minute.
Sometimes I like to play pretend.

Cast myself as the role of your love interest.
So during my game I was shocked.

When we step foot in your local corner store, when the cashier muttered a “you too, together”
I thought I’d alternated reality.

Or at least I did for that second and a half.
Before you fumbled over your words and tried to find the ones that would break my heart the least.
You settled on she’s out of my league, you joked about it once we’ve left.
Then I pretended again.

I cast myself as your laid back friend,
As the girl who has better things to think about then a cashier wrong assumptions.
Reality didn’t shift this time.

— p.d.e
another ****** love poem about a dumb boy
Mohamed Nasir Jul 2018
O rescue help the boys in dreadful cave.
Those adventurers could meet their demise
Unless in hour of crisis comes the brave;
But one by one emerge and none yet dies,
Unscathed though bruised from historic ordeals,
Escaped the jaws of death. Those left behind,
Our prayers they overcome their perils.
The tears flowing freely cruel minutes grind.
A strange surging water locking them in,
The force push them up to higher chambers.
Upon a mount waited; with anxious kin,
With families, monks believe still embers.
We salute rescuers' courage to save,
And one to God his precious life he gave.
This poem is to the boys and the coach of a football team trapped in a cave in Thailand. But thanks to the rescuers' most had been rescued and one of the rescuers died in this attempts to save the boys. Except a few left behind. Our hope they would be saved and hope all will go well.
veritas Sep 2018
maybe it's there, in the crevice of his hard heart, that he heard the soft echo of light.

maybe, if the wound really is where the light enters you, it's in the heavy handed claps or in that gruff way men tell their sons, when it seems like the right thing to do, that they love them,

and then it's gone,

vanished into the cold nothingness, behind

rough hands and hearty laughter and the slow descending numbness of duty and honor and being a man.

it's faded, worn over, rusted old coppers,
until there comes along a boy who'll tuck the rough love away, who won't stand startled but rather perplexed,

who'll keep it boxed safe like pressed flowers between thin brown paper.

and then maybe, maybe that sweet boy will spread a few more, until his love is no longer a coarse and dying brittle sea air but nourishing, sustaining,

and maybe then he can start over.
8/22
em Jun 2015
Woven over every girls
heart
are the words,
*handle with care
especially those who are going to date my little sister ;p

ps the poetry slam went pretty well, i won :) i really liked the expierence, i was just so into reciting those words that i poured myself into that i just forgot what everyone might be thinking because in that moment i was bare, i was me in my truest form... it was cool to be able to be myself. spoken word is amazing if you have not tried to write like that i encourage you to. even if it never leaves your bedroom. the process will give you clarity.
Pixie Ellis Apr 2018
Dear Cute Boy At The Party,

It was nice meeting you. Again.

I bet you didn’t know you were the first person I ever flirted with. I bet you didn’t know I prepped for this date for a week. I bet you didn’t know how much my heart soared when you asked me out.

Thank you for telling me that I have a cute laugh. Thank you for telling me how much you wanted to see me again before I even left. Thank you for walking me back to the station.

It was nice talking to you.

I know when you complained about the chair, it was just an excuse to sit next to me. I know you want L to like you back. I know you deserve someone who treats you better.

It was nice that you finally messaged me, a week after the party.

But I bet you didn’t know how quickly I accepted the fact I’d never see you again. That I’ve already wrote you two poems and that I’m sat listening to the songs you recommended to me. Thank you for making me realise that the right guy will come along, but not right away. I thought I’d just be that girl at the party who’s name you can’t remember, or face you can’t place, but I was wrong.  

It was nice meeting you.

I‘m excited to see you again next week.

— p.d.e
I went out on a date with cute boy from the party, last night.
Galatea Nov 2017
He stood a little over six feet tall, with eyes as sharp
As when glass etches its way through the thick skin of my soles
He was a pretty boy,  but cold, with a tongue that tasted as sweet
as the candy canes during christmas time

Did I love the pretty boy? I often wonder when I sit at night dragging at the roots of my thin hair
Crying over the time he crushed my pride with a few words,
sharp as daggers etching its way into my chemical receptors
Sending me into a state of ultimate desolation, of depression,
of pain I could never imagine I would have to suffer through
Pulling on my uniform at 5 am, forcing the smile on to my pale face, drained of life and blood that begun to bubble into my chest,
A pretty boy made me wish for death,
I can't seem to forget,
When I cried out in pleasure, clutching to his toned body, a foreign feeling to my inexperienced self that left me as stiff as rigor mortis
The pretty boy,

With eyes freezing akin to the ice that fell during the coldest winter,
words as sweet as roses with thorns,
etching its way between my thighs, tasting the little innocence I had left

The pretty boy,
Still lingers in the deepest part of my memories,
In such a short time, I let myself become enveloped into the arms of death
in the cloak of an angel,
The pretty boy,
I wished he had come back to me.
The pretty boy,
That doesnt think of me in bed with the woman he truly loves,
her voice, not mine
That captivates him at nighttime
The pretty boy,
mjad Apr 18
long dark hair
chocolate stare
tan soft skin
dripped in sin
tempting voice
i hate boys
H for the humility be it here or there
U for understanding  yet so  unaware
G for the good and also the great
O for opinions we insinuate
French man
cait-cait Nov 2018
i beg for other people’s *** stories,
because i am broken and unloved...

and when boys snarl,
                             i feel alone, although
i know that they are just laughing...

and
i’ve found that womanhood is
half shame before everything else,

so i can only notice how
other girls wave their successes above my head,
as though being ****** is a prize and being loved is an end game,

that screams GAME OVER in bright red.

i will take my silence over your lifestyle any day,
despite the fact that i still cry when you leave.
women can’t exist without being analyzed, tested, and corrected. i wish girls wrote poems about being happy instead. Don’t @ me.
laura Feb 2018
vain fluff, temporary garbage
954 pieces of trash is too much
to pick up

let the most dazzling of sunlight
and cool shade get along in peace
let the blue fat flies settle on the miles
of back alleyways full of dumpsters

veiled threats from anonymous faces
who are apparently experts in poetry
let it all rot under a gibbous moon
do others here get trolls sending mean
messages and comments? or is it just me :(
veritas Jul 2018
girls and boys and girls! its
a sultry summer, swinging, sighing, swishing hips by mine
slipping elusive behind stone arches, cursing on my lips, **** (whispered, softly)
glazed cherries in a glass bowl they drip and melt, and oh hell
my fingers are red and sticky and sweet but i love it i love it and
she's smiling like a dream
she's saying goodbye until next summer
until another year, another dream will find her way to me.
summer vibes
mt Dec 2017
i think about the girls of your past, ones with prettier thighs and voices like honey
i think of how lucky they must have been
i think you look good when you smoke
i think about how that cigarette is the only thing out of the list of things that have touched your lips to not want u like the others did
i like it when you smoke
Ink Sep 2017
Men I don’t love
Send me emails telling me that they care about people like me.
They say,
I am committed to helping people achieve their dreams by providing the right support. I want to thank you for your interest in utilizing this opportunity.

The boy I know
Sends me a message saying he saw potential in us.
He writes,
I wanted to help you become better. And when you spoke to me that first day, I thought that maybe we could become something greater than we are now. Together.

Men that know me
Send me emails saying that they liked learning what’s in my head.  
They say,
I recognize the time and effort you put into this and truly appreciate that you shared your thoughts and ideas with me.

The boy that doesn’t love me
Sends me a message saying he knows what he meant to me.
He writes,
I know how hard you tried to make this work. I think you’re amazing, how you always give your all into everything. How you gave your all to me.

Men I don’t know
Send me copy-paste emails that I have memorized.
They say,
There was an outstanding selection of applicants this year and the competition was intense. I regret to inform you that you were not selected to receive an award.

The boy I love
Sends me a message saying what Men I Don’t Know couldn’t.
He writes,
*It’s just that this isn’t what I’m looking for.
You’re not who I am looking for.
Rejection has many faces, and I have seen too many of them.
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