"brokest" poems - Hello Poetry

it used to have me bored till the roam saw greater overpass lacking value, lacking cash in these times even the brokest can catch some a*s. 2018 scene , was the year of thirteen confused then till I hit the pen the skaters always been too “bold” too “crazy-like” , yeah we fight all in our right. these same parks saved me from a sin reminiscing the first time to one watching “cherry” with a grin - now peaking with motivation rather than bored let’s cruise down in the Valley learn something more in high hope may be a little demure when skating though, the wheels turn to show - who’s really true who’s really pure. and that’s from your$truly

0

Feb 2, 2025

Feb 2, 2025 at 7:06 PM UTC

rhythmsoframs

Tha Board

it used to have me bored till the roam saw greater overpass lacking value, lacking cash in these times even the brokest can catch some a*s. 2018 scene , was the year of thirteen confused then till I hit the pen the skaters always been too “bold” too “crazy-like” , yeah we fight all in our right. these same parks saved me from a sin reminiscing the first time to one watching “cherry” with a grin - now peaking with motivation rather than bored let’s cruise down in the Valley learn something more in high hope may be a little demure when skating though, the wheels turn to show - who’s really true who’s really pure. and that’s from your$truly

21

Hey yo! From that valley but i haven’t seen the sunset not playing, I got game that could make a nun wet. Pump that! Art in my veins at the bottom but i'm the hottest so call me the blue part of the flame! man in college I changed, Remember first stepping on the soil I was an innocent boy Extra ****** like an olive oil Gave my brain to a half Asian amazing gave it back now i’m finally graduating Yo i’m a raider no greater than your average hater He gave me a hand, the brokest! I had a better chance getting cake in Hostess Focus! bacon, stop losing it here’s the ball and there’s the net homies keep asking me why I ain’t made it yet, I plan my moves so carefully like it’s a game of chess This is my leap year no more taking baby steps.

0

Oct 29, 2014

Oct 29, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC

kingBacon

Cell Bars!

Hey yo! From that valley but i haven’t seen the sunset not playing, I got game that could make a nun wet. Pump that! Art in my veins at the bottom but i'm the hottest so call me the blue part of the flame! man in college I changed, Remember first stepping on the soil I was an innocent boy Extra ****** like an olive oil Gave my brain to a half Asian amazing gave it back now i’m finally graduating Yo i’m a raider no greater than your average hater He gave me a hand, the brokest! I had a better chance getting cake in Hostess Focus! bacon, stop losing it here’s the ball and there’s the net homies keep asking me why I ain’t made it yet, I plan my moves so carefully like it’s a game of chess This is my leap year no more taking baby steps.

28

I saw the writing on the wall, forever slow upon the draw Its just the beginning- the beauty of infancy, celebrating the baby’s first steps. At times I need a minute just to catch my breath, at other times I feel so ever quick to cash in all my chips. I question if you’ve felt the same. My past is riddled with a longer list of what consists of shame- in terms of pennies on the dollar, I’m the brokest of the lame. I’ve had the aims of matchless flight, I’ve fought the battles not to fight, but on this night you’ve rattled cages, and exposed just how shamelessly, what’s good is truly right. Still I’m caught off guard when petrified beyond a breath. Calm my trembling hand, Please build a man who’s firm to stand, I beg you’d loosen up my grip Before I slip and fall on sinking sand. I get shattered bones when struck by beauty; Should I touch? Is this forbidden fruit? Is she the tree of Eden’s garden? Has my fear become a crutch? Can I be trusted when there’s lust? Am I disqualified from love? Cause in this moment I’m completely incapacitated by this drug. I flee from struggle, it’s a challenge. Are there habits not to quit? Yet there’s something different here, It’s unique in how it shifts. I watch these movements closely, while I’m fearful of the critics eye. Terrified that I’ve become, what I have known, who I despise. Frustrated to the core when little foxes nip and pick, At what I know is crafty workings of a gardener with gifts. They come to feast the choicest fruits, they gnaw and nibble at the roots- if I had any sense at all, I’d buy the biggest pair of boots; three sizes bigger then what fits and tie them tighter than a noose; go trouncing through that garden; not thinking twice about the fact that “oh, those foxes seem so cute.” I’d kick them hard and send them running- one by one, then two by two. Exhausted in the end, but maybe then we’d have our chance to rest. Not alone, but now together- we’d be closer non the less. Catch the foxes for us father, cause even if I give my best. My self sustaining effort will not help us past this test.

0

Nov 30, 2018

Nov 30, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC

michaelbpoetry

Foxes

I saw the writing on the wall, forever slow upon the draw Its just the beginning- the beauty of infancy, celebrating the baby’s first steps. At times I need a minute just to catch my breath, at other times I feel so ever quick to cash in all my chips. I question if you’ve felt the same. My past is riddled with a longer list of what consists of shame- in terms of pennies on the dollar, I’m the brokest of the lame. I’ve had the aims of matchless flight, I’ve fought the battles not to fight, but on this night you’ve rattled cages, and exposed just how shamelessly, what’s good is truly right. Still I’m caught off guard when petrified beyond a breath. Calm my trembling hand, Please build a man who’s firm to stand, I beg you’d loosen up my grip Before I slip and fall on sinking sand. I get shattered bones when struck by beauty; Should I touch? Is this forbidden fruit? Is she the tree of Eden’s garden? Has my fear become a crutch? Can I be trusted when there’s lust? Am I disqualified from love? Cause in this moment I’m completely incapacitated by this drug. I flee from struggle, it’s a challenge. Are there habits not to quit? Yet there’s something different here, It’s unique in how it shifts. I watch these movements closely, while I’m fearful of the critics eye. Terrified that I’ve become, what I have known, who I despise. Frustrated to the core when little foxes nip and pick, At what I know is crafty workings of a gardener with gifts. They come to feast the choicest fruits, they gnaw and nibble at the roots- if I had any sense at all, I’d buy the biggest pair of boots; three sizes bigger then what fits and tie them tighter than a noose; go trouncing through that garden; not thinking twice about the fact that “oh, those foxes seem so cute.” I’d kick them hard and send them running- one by one, then two by two. Exhausted in the end, but maybe then we’d have our chance to rest. Not alone, but now together- we’d be closer non the less. Catch the foxes for us father, cause even if I give my best. My self sustaining effort will not help us past this test.

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