"likable" poems
You weren’t worth the
Hundred dollars it cost to
Keep you in my car.
Princess got poached by the
League of Losers with Pedestrian Ideals.
I’d spit venom in your direction, if
Poison meant anything to you. But
Akin to most things, so sub-human,
You miss the world moving around your
Ever pulsating veins, and repel these
Toxins with a slip of the tongue.
Around you I could line
Bodies of those you’d loved and left.
Each clasping hands with one another,
Privy to a specific type of pain, only you can
Deal out. And
In the center of the circle you’d
Stare, stunned by your state of
Affairs, and flings. Collectively concerned
For the safety of your
Rotting consciousness.
One by one, I could set these men
On fire, and hand you a place
Where your head could be danced off.
Drunken and diving heart-first into
The burning lake of a
Surfable crowd. Since that’s
All we are, serfs.
I hope the fire gets too close to your
Gorgeous face. I hope the
Love you receive is no more likable
Than a few more licks from the flames.
The scars couldn’t sideline you.
No one can stop ****
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Dear Best friend,
You know who you are. You are the beautiful girl in the back of the class, who keeps to herself, but is still strangely likable. You are the girl with the piercing blue eyes and dark, dark sense of humor.
Dear Best Friend,
I know you literally are always willing to listen, whether it is talking about our mutual crush on that guy in our favourite class, or complaining about society, or my parents, or when I just need to talk about the weather to distract myself from the looming fear of everything going wrong.
Dear Best Friend,
I still remember when you first told me about your depression. I had always sort of known, but hearing you say it out loud, I honestly didn’t know what to do, because I don’t want you to end up like me, I don’t want you to feel like you have to turn to sharp inanimate objects, I don’t want your world to be dark, hopeless, I don’t want you to fall because depression is a slippery slope, trust me. I don’t want you to forever be broken. I don’t want you to be scared.
I just don’t want you to end up as ****** up as me.
Dear Best Friend,
I know I’m not perfect, I’m not even close, and I ***** up... A lot. But I will do what ever I can to ALWAYS be there for you. I will always be the dorky, idiotic, annoying sidekick.
Dear Best Friend,
You are beautiful, don’t let anyone, ever tell you otherwise. Especially not some 12 year old boy with a stupid haircut.
You are short, there is no denying that, but so is Billie Joe Armstrong and we still think he is the hottest thing since wood stoves.
You have blue eyes, that I know you think are weird, but they are like oceans only not as dark.
Your hair is almost as straight as the members in half the bands we listen to, but each curl falls in it’s own special place
You are beautiful, stunning, breath-taking, and every other synonym for that word.
Dear Best Friend,
I’m sorry you have to put up with me when I am like this. I know I should just bottle it up, but for whatever reason it always seems like I can’t stop the words from escaping. I’m sorry, I am so so sorry that you have to deal with me.
Dear Best Friend,
I really want to smack you upside the face with a brick sometimes. But I won’t, because I am more scared of you hitting back than I am of doctors (and that’s saying something)
Dear Best Friend,
I promise that I will always be there as long as you need me, whether it’s in the middle of the night or when I am thousands of miles away with timezone barriers between us, just call me. When you are scared, call me. When what you are scared of is yourself, call me. When you need a friend, call me. When you want to gush about your new boyfriend, call me. When you want to just chat, call me.
Dear Best Friend,
At this point I think of you more like a sister that a friend.
So, Dear Sister, I love you so much. Thank you for showing me that even the darkest nights have a sunrise, and that those sunrises are always the most spectacular.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
I’ve discovered the secret to life!
But, it may not be the most likable knowledge,
And, it definitely does not fall under “small-talk-poetry,”
Yet, it is known that everything-worth-knowing was once considered hideous.
What am I?
I’m human,
like you.
Like you,
I’m human,
What are we?
We are cells,
Cells made up of molecules,
Molecules made up of atoms,
Atoms made up of protons and neutrons and electrons.
Electrons…
The lightest charged particles,
Electrons…
Who weigh 1836 times less than a proton,
Electrons
Found a way to rebel.
Electrons
Repel the nucleic core.
Electrons
Push boundaries.
Electrons
Create space.
An atom is mostly empty space.
All of me is composed of atoms,
All of you is composed of atoms,
We are mostly empty space.
We are just reflections
Of this Universe
Staring back at each other.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
You told me nobody wants you.
When did that happen?
I want you,
but I don’t see where I became
“nobody”.
I mean,
in my eyes I’m somebody.
In my eyes I’m somebody
likable and funny…
but I am pretty stupid.
And I mess up a lot.
But I am definitely not
“nobody”.
So when you tell me that nobody wants you, that-
that hurts!
Cause I don’t see how you can say that when someone is there
looking out for you every day,
because they care about you very,
very much.
I am not
“nobody”
so never say nobody wants you.
Because I want you.
And I’ll fight for you every day,
just say the word.
I think about you every day,
I wonder how you’re doing because I-
I can’t be there with you
all the time!
But that doesn’t mean I’m
“nobody”.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
I love her infantile eyes,
So deep and dark, with no lies.
I love her chubby cheeks,
So likable and lickable, with no ice.
I love her beautiful hair,
On her mandible so magical, with no lice.
I love her smiley curves,
So spicy, with no added spice.
I love her cute nose,
So precious, with no price.
Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
All the once upon a time stories that end in happily ever after have the flawless handsome Prince charming who meets the sweetest princess or young maiden who becomes a princess after they marry (typically approximately 12 to 18 hours or so after they meet usually because the sweet young lady was rescued by the Prince because she was singing randomly and dancing around with woodland animals who do her laundry and she fell off of a tower or was attacked by some lady who literally has no job but spends her entire life just being evil for the sake of being evil and yet never starves to death despite the fact that her evil plots never actually allow her to aquire money or food of any sort.)
The girl is always polite
Everyone loves her
She usually has a waistline tinier than a flowerstem
And she sees the good in everyone
She is also gorgeous 100% of the time
Well I am NOT that girl
I can't alwaye be polite and perfect
I can't even be pretty
There are more people that hate me than there are people who can even tolerate me
I'm not the likable easy going type
I don't have a three inch waist (mainly because that is completely insane)
I can't find a way to like every person
I'm the jealous ugly stepsister Anastasia in Cinderella
I'm the wicked witch in the wizard of Oz
I'm the wolf in the three little pigs
I'm the hag in snow white and the seven dwarves
I'm not the princess in the story
But fortunately, I don't need to be because life is not a fairytale
And you don't need to be prince charming
Hell, you don't even need to be anything like the lists I make about what my dream guy should be like
Because really, since when do I know what I actually want?
I certainly am always wrong about what I need
So here's the deal
You love me for me, be loyal, care about me because of my soul first and my looks having nothing to do with it, you give me eternity,
And I promise you the same.
I don't need you to catch me when I fall off a tower
That doesn't really happen much
I need you to catch the little pieces of me when I fall apart because the emotions were all too much
I don't need a happily ever after
And you don't need to be prince charming
Because I am not a princess
Repost if you are not a princess either
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
On that day which caused my voice to disappear,
All those around me rejoiced and had a feast, celebrating this moment
The words I say brought people tremor, fear or just pure hatred,
Everyone hated them the moment I moved my lips to convey along side them in hope to find someone who could become even a friend.
I was of course wrong all along, deserted for the reason that they found what I said in some sense weird or obscure, maybe irrational,
Was it my means or my purpose that scared them away ?
My looks or my style of conveying to appear more likable to them ?
In the end it didn't even matter for a second, as their false smiles carried the message of their fake friendship and intentions.
Maybe now that I won't have to converse with sound any further, those words of mine might reach someones heart and touch it instead,
But that is simply a distant dream, because everyone hates the words I say, perhaps it is meaningless to seek meaning in my useless self,
All I can do now is to heave in sobs,
Left behind, I can no longer even cry,
~ Umi
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
1.
it is so easy to become
someone you aren't
in a room full of people who
will hang on to your every word
bate their breath and then laugh
at the right moments
it is so easy to pretend
for a few minutes that you
are charming, witty, and likable
2.
your skylight is full of sun
even when it's dark out
your skylight, it glows
and the constellations are as far away
as you sleeping next to me
i lie, petrified of touching you
should you pull away
3.
why couldn't i be this charismatic
with the people you know?
it seems, at your house
i never start a conversation
4.
even simply liking you
is touch and go
do or die
i don't know
time may lie
still, the clock would stop
ticking and i
would sit alone in space tonight
5.
sometimes without meaning to
i block out sound
my ears simply filter out
the voice or sound
i do not want to hear
so i'm beginning to wonder
if i skimped on the details
6.
do you find this
a suitable noose
to **** me by
-to myself
who never stops pining
after something to bring her grace
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 12:49 AM UTC
*********
Arsonist
Regrettable
Stupid
Horrible
Arrogant
Loser
Liar
Manly
All-knowing
Right
****
Handy
Awesome
Likable
Level-headed
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Whenever I must add new people to my life,
I feel that it is my duty to be my most likable version,
And because of that, I wear makeup, straighten my hair,
And lose myself in aesthetic immersion.
I feel better when I feel pretty,
And that breaks my heart.
I never thought my happiness,
Was such a simple and vain art.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
Am I just a ***** up?
No.
I was made for more.
You're a long way off kid.
Not a single thing about you is ******* up.
Well, nothing but your self image.
That's way out of whack.
You're a good kid.
Creative.
Smart.
Likable.
Where'd you get the idea that you're a ***** up?
Not from me. That's for sure.
So stop listening to the little man on your left shoulder.
He's got nothing good for you.
Now.
Focus.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
We are young!
We are strong!
Lungs to the heavens
as our hearts sing along!
We run as thousands
but we stand as one!
Souls in the heavens
with eyes on the gun, fun!
Pound our feet in the ground,
rumblin' rhythmic footsteps
move mountains with its sound!
Our words heat the air
as the ice cracks loud!
Their shiver is shared;
Let them stare, we don't care
Melt into the crowd,
and we still stand out!
Individual
Indivisible
Indescribable
Indefensible
Yet still feasible to stay reasonable
No treason is seasonal
No wall is that pliable
Withstand hate with strength undeniable
Vicious, and still likable
Quick to bite; to heal a wound
Get hurt, get chewed
Get back up, Get out soon
And we stand up in rythum
And get back in tune
Singing a song, to sing along
Where we all belong,
Where none is wrong
Mass hysteria with a flex of a muscle
Show them all just how strong
Long in the tooth
or still young
You too can have youth
melt in the crowd, stand your ground
or get swallowed up by the swiftness of our sound
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
Boys, Boys, Boys,
Likable, lovable,or lonely,
Some are completely despicable,
You got those hard ***** who are too strong for love, or who will just lead ya on, making you think thoughts you shouldn't about them and
Making you want them more then you should,
Or you got those babies, the ones who refuse to actually grow some *****
The ones who ask you to forgive them of their weaknesses,
Their shortcomings and their downfalls,
Like seriously?
I'm a girl, not a leaning post who you can depend upon,
Ok, maybe if I knew you more,
But still like, really?
The ones who refuse to make a move, like even afraid to touch you,
What? Do I have cooties or something,
Hold my hand, or hold me,
Come on!
Then you got those ones who don't even know how to communicate,
Or say something worth hearing,
Please I've heard it all,
How cute and adorable I am,
The Goddess, a queen, labeling me to be one who I'm not,
I'm a human being, one of you!
Last time I checked I was a mortal, not some model of perfection,
But to be put on such a pedestal is simply too much.
So come on guys, get a grip and learn how to stand up for yourselves,
Don't pretend I'm something more then I'm not,
It aint going to work,
I want you as a friend, then a lover, but the crushes are constantly crushing my hopes and dreams of finding that one prince charming
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 11:11 PM UTC
This is the song of a Dreamer.
You would be hard-pressed to find
A more likable person.
He is one of a kind.
He moved to California;
From south of the border he came--
A four-year-old with his family.
Futuro, we'll say, was his name.
Futuro's father and mother
Worked very hard to provide
A good life for their children--
Something that they'd been denied.
Schooling was very important.
Futuro strove to excel.
He wanted his parents to see him
And his three siblings do well.
His college graduation
Made his parents so proud.
The smiles on their faces were something--
The biggest smiles in the crowd.
Futuro landed employment.
Later things went awry
When a cop pulled him over
And gave him a DUI.
That's when the nightmare started
Futuro was able to see
What it was like to be treated
Like a detainee.
Belongings were confiscated.
His hands and feet were chained,
As if he were a convict
Who had to be restrained.
They gave him no information
And moved him from place to place.
Each detention center
Was an utter disgrace.
Conditions were atrocious.
The rooms were damp and cold.
The food was barely edible
After you scraped off the mold.
Thanks to our heartless leaders.
Thanks to the CCA.°
We have detention centers
Where people are treated this way.
Such centers often become
A two- or three-year address
For many detainees caught in
A bureaucratic mess.
These for-profit prisons,
Based on what we know,
Are an assault on our freedom.
Let's face it: they've got to go.
When we civilized people
Treat human beings like this--
Worse than we treat an animal--
There is something amiss.
Futuro, well, he was lucky.
He was released on bail.
Now his fate is in limbo.
At least he's no longer in jail.
Must he hide in the shadows?
Must he be on the run?
What will it take for Futuro
To walk in the light of the sun?
Give Futuro your blessings.
Give the hopeful your praise.
May our eyes be opened.
May we see brighter days.
(2-24-17) By Bob B
°Corrections Corporation of America
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 9:14 PM UTC
Growing up, I thought I was special.
I thought I could do anything. Go anywhere. Be anyone.
I thought I was smart. More clever than most.
I thought I was likable, cool, and popular.
I thought I was pretty.
Growing up,
I thought the world of myself,
but as I grew older,
I found that the world didn't think much of me.
I realized I was ordinary,
and there were limits on my abilities.
I realized that I was clumsy, uncoordinated,
and awkward.
I found that I am an average student.
Honestly, I'm really not smart at all.
I became aware of my quirky and weird personality,
and that most people really don't like me.
I understood that I was just one of many
in a great big world, and that
I am insignificant.
Maybe growing up is realizing that you are not that special, after all.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
“You’re beautiful,” he says,
his voice a gin-soaked amalgamation of every
listlessly aging boss,
lonely husband in the shoe department,
loveless 3a.m.-hard-cocked stranger.
“Why don’t you smile?”
I widened my eyes
in an attempt to appear likable,
yet felt my mouth
straightening,
my upper lip sealing
the bottom like
a Tupperware lid.
I willed them to curl
upwards, unassumingly;
I wanted to smile the way
women seem to smile
while masking
ill-fitting intentions.
My mouth remained
firmly rooted,
obstinate railroad tracks running
the shortest distance
between the two plotted points of
left cheek and right cheek.
Behind these pretty lips lay
two rows of crooked teeth,
a cigarette-stained skyline
against the starless horizon of
tongue and epithelial tissue, ugly
and wholly my own.
To smile
would be a betrayal
of my own trust,
and if any man
were worth that
it certainly wasn’t
this one.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
I do not need a cigarette in my hand
A flat stomach
An eyebrow piercing
An infinite knowledge of Socrates.
I do not need
A quick-witted tongue
To be easy to please, short in stature, soft spoken, impatient.
I do not need
A fondness of antiques
The latest car
26 pairs of shoes
Diamond earrings,
To be passive,
To be alluring and enticing and likable, noticeable, noteworthy, appealing or interesting.
I need my heart. If my heart does not allure or compel you to see if I really do have 26 pairs or shoes or if I really am a smoker, if I am passive and soft spoken, if I am tall or short, then I am not compelling enough. My heart should be what catches your attention and what makes you stay.
My heart overrides all else when looking at my worth; my 26 pairs of shoes will not comfort you, but my heart will. Therefore, look at someones heart. That is where you will truly find someone rather in who they are than what they are.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.
I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.
It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.
It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.
He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.
And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.
(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)
Even harder as he swings insults your way,
as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.
It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.
It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.
But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)
He is still a child.
And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
A life spent in the comparative
Is a life spent searching
Desiring something more, something better
A thing that will meet society's approval
Everyone's approval.
If you only knew
How perfect, how flawless you seem to me
How I would never criticize you
The way I browbeat myself.
Yet you find every little thing to pick at
But you would say the same thing to me.
So why does it frustrate me?
When you complain about your hair being out of place
Your smile being crooked
Your thighs being too large
Or your nonexistent muffin top to the rest of us
But to you its omnipresent
Because I have all those things.
They are wrong with me
Not you.
Because you, by definition
Are skinnier, prettier and more likable than I am
I strive to be like you,
So maybe I could be happy.
And yet you want to change it.
Because I fear that you see me
The same way I see myself.
I will never measure up to you
But I wish you could meet your own requirements
For better than good enough.
I wish you could see yourself
Through the same lens that the world views you through.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
My shadow should be
proud of me
because I have done good things
Like
Write poetry
And
Fall in love with amazing people
Who did break my heart
But it doesn't matter really
I am not a likable person
Done just as many stupid things
Like
Try to **** myself
But hey
It doesn't matter
Sometimes, time hates us
Sometimes it doesn't
And sometimes
You gotta do it to relieve yourself
So in the end
My shadow should be proud of me
For I have done
Things which are stupid and things which
Are intelligent
So shadow please
Be proud of me
And don't leave me here alone
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
Going through a time
Where being myself
Feels like a crime
Insecure about who I am
About the way I walk
Feeling like a hologram
Not able to talk
Think I need a new personality
Something more likable
A someone with more functionality
And a person more reliable
Waiting for the day
To feel like a somebody
Keep these feelings at bay
And live a life like everybody
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
I love you enough...
I truly do.
On a ten-point love scale I'm feeling 2
(which for me is impressive and quite a bit...)
That's the most I can offer.
So
Just deal with it.
I love you.
I love you
up to a point beyond which I am unable to go).
It's tough to express this
and harder to show
my non-darling sweetie.
My non-turtle dove
my heart overflows with conditional love
which is cautiously partial and maybe sincere
-my nearly beloved...
You're my Demi-dear.
I find you are likable.
You strike me as cool....
I'm not touchy/freely with words as a rule.
I will love you a long time
until I move on.
But for now I DO LOVE YOU!
I swear I do (insert name).
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
It was never about 'getting better'
No, I was way beyond that point
See there's a character, values, strengths, weaknesses, beliefs
That shape who we are, how we act, and how we respond
Getting better would mean I'd have to erase the past somehow
To make myself less broken, more oblivious, and happier
All of which I know to be impossible to reverse
Getting better, it's definition has changed so drastically
That it means not being the person
The person I've become
And I know I might have been more likable, fun, and hopeful
Maybe I seemed like a better person than I am now
But if you think I need to be fixed
If you think I still need to 'get better'
Than you don't have any right to be in my life
Because this is who I am now
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Acid Tongue Xpress how you must feel.
Allowing words rolled off you to heal.
Don't stop now when you think you are done
let the feeling take you where there is none.
You want to say more than likable but continue to let words get you into trouble.
Say what your mind has been holding
empty the space your anger has been molding.
More words of hurt will refill it
just keep on feeling what you will permit.
Speak, and don't hold back anymore
go on now your acid words have the floor.
Does it feel better when you speak
allowing the reciever to become weak?
So silence can not control this event
when every word said was truely meant.
Now the words have become lost
Our friendship of many years is all it cost.
SDPope
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 6:39 PM UTC