"percents" poems - Hello Poetry

Do you know what ***** Not being good at everything. I sat down at the piano To practice for the umpteenth time Millions of thoughts rush through my head: My form ***** I can't hit the right notes My fingers don't want to work together I can barely read the music I will never be able to do this I **** I was born to believe that I needed to be the best At everything I did To please my parents And get the recognition I deserved. The truthful "well done" from my mother. But there came a time where getting A's is all they expected from me So when I would get above and beyond 100 percents I got nothing No well done, no good job. Yet my brother who would narrowly pass his spelling tests Would get commended for his work. Pushing myself harder and harder to be the best Every second of every day Has lead me to be unhappy whenever something isn't to the level I think it should be. I know that perfection is impossible And that you can't be good at everything. But every time I fail It feels like I'm dying a little inside. Frustration. Anger. Depression. I can barely hold it all together. This pressure to be perfect may seem unbearable, But it's my way of life. Without it, I have no idea who I would be.

0

Feb 14, 2013

Feb 14, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC

lizzy-pegler

The Pressure to be Perfect

Do you know what ***** Not being good at everything. I sat down at the piano To practice for the umpteenth time Millions of thoughts rush through my head: My form ***** I can't hit the right notes My fingers don't want to work together I can barely read the music I will never be able to do this I **** I was born to believe that I needed to be the best At everything I did To please my parents And get the recognition I deserved. The truthful "well done" from my mother. But there came a time where getting A's is all they expected from me So when I would get above and beyond 100 percents I got nothing No well done, no good job. Yet my brother who would narrowly pass his spelling tests Would get commended for his work. Pushing myself harder and harder to be the best Every second of every day Has lead me to be unhappy whenever something isn't to the level I think it should be. I know that perfection is impossible And that you can't be good at everything. But every time I fail It feels like I'm dying a little inside. Frustration. Anger. Depression. I can barely hold it all together. This pressure to be perfect may seem unbearable, But it's my way of life. Without it, I have no idea who I would be.

34

Your absence has drawn fractions on my belly. It's bisected the axis of my heart; it has split me apart. I am charts and statistics. I'm percents. You were sharp. So was I; when I left, I cut those halves into fourths. I left one in your bed, now I'm three quarters saved and one quarter spent.

0

May 3, 2013

May 3, 2013 at 9:07 AM UTC

marsha-singh

Sharp

Your absence has drawn fractions on my belly. It's bisected the axis of my heart; it has split me apart. I am charts and statistics. I'm percents. You were sharp. So was I; when I left, I cut those halves into fourths. I left one in your bed, now I'm three quarters saved and one quarter spent.

11

12% why does my father treat me like his son instead of daughter 15% library inside ribs, it holds a world instead of lungs 21% school is an injury education is attempting to bandage 29% there is a reason i used a calculator for these percents 33% hangout with nature and let it break your heart

0

Feb 8, 2014

Feb 8, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC

al

construct a venn diagram out of the following data:

12% why does my father treat me like his son instead of daughter 15% library inside ribs, it holds a world instead of lungs 21% school is an injury education is attempting to bandage 29% there is a reason i used a calculator for these percents 33% hangout with nature and let it break your heart

5

A face two faces a coin a cent. All seem the same to me percents Society's hypocrisy Work hard to pay or pay the fee A man once said moneys like poetry But will money be worth a poem When none of us are free?

0

Nov 26, 2013

Nov 26, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC

johnr722

Two Cents

A face two faces a coin a cent. All seem the same to me percents Society's hypocrisy Work hard to pay or pay the fee A man once said moneys like poetry But will money be worth a poem When none of us are free?

7

2% happy 2% loved 6% lonely 10% just gave up 10% ****** 10% bracelets 10% gloves 9% irritated 20% doesn't give a **** 10% has nothing to say 4% stays silent 1% knows its better this way 3% hates you 3% hates me ?% is emo that (?%) is Me...

0

Dec 1, 2014

Dec 1, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC

Nightterrors

My percents

2% happy 2% loved 6% lonely 10% just gave up 10% ****** 10% bracelets 10% gloves 9% irritated 20% doesn't give a **** 10% has nothing to say 4% stays silent 1% knows its better this way 3% hates you 3% hates me ?% is emo that (?%) is Me...

16

Conflicts better left for diamonds ***** with dried blood I've had enough of the violence between seemingly heartless folks on a come up and their mothers native sons I've been walking round here numb since the summer of '91 When you see too much young, it looks like squinting to catch a glimpse of a setting sun Pockets lump, class C like a status symbol, the difference between top to bottom rung is relatively simple List the individuals who we get the rank from, those who get on board, those who get got and the rest forever labeled no ones The cost of living becomes smoke to the nostrils, essential herbs burn and my eyes water I had the thought process once of a born to rot martyr Without a cause death brings no honor, it's all losses That's the mantra Another dealer in a corner or a liquor store start up, and my whole neighborhood is thick in the woods Other words They hard up They say troubles pass and this too can't last but I started questioning the facts behind the poetry in that See I could work a dope spot and pay back debts yet profits on the dollar don't make no sense Don't act like a thinker like me can't add up the truths in percents, and the unschooled learned some **** foreign to most post grad *** lauds with all due respect For the first in a lifetime we play by the rules, those who sing get no love That's the word, that's the hymn Bucks shots on the concrete and when the blues roll up No one sees a thing What I mean is it's hard to see any reason to believe my starving art could paint me into a new scene I'm a fool to expect it, this exodus for the rest of us restless on the present precipice or cliff face Calling it change I've lived in a nightmare well before sleeping I'm saying Let's all move on From here, stop the star gazing

0

Dec 2, 2016

Dec 2, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC

staticnsage9j

StarGazing

Conflicts better left for diamonds ***** with dried blood I've had enough of the violence between seemingly heartless folks on a come up and their mothers native sons I've been walking round here numb since the summer of '91 When you see too much young, it looks like squinting to catch a glimpse of a setting sun Pockets lump, class C like a status symbol, the difference between top to bottom rung is relatively simple List the individuals who we get the rank from, those who get on board, those who get got and the rest forever labeled no ones The cost of living becomes smoke to the nostrils, essential herbs burn and my eyes water I had the thought process once of a born to rot martyr Without a cause death brings no honor, it's all losses That's the mantra Another dealer in a corner or a liquor store start up, and my whole neighborhood is thick in the woods Other words They hard up They say troubles pass and this too can't last but I started questioning the facts behind the poetry in that See I could work a dope spot and pay back debts yet profits on the dollar don't make no sense Don't act like a thinker like me can't add up the truths in percents, and the unschooled learned some **** foreign to most post grad *** lauds with all due respect For the first in a lifetime we play by the rules, those who sing get no love That's the word, that's the hymn Bucks shots on the concrete and when the blues roll up No one sees a thing What I mean is it's hard to see any reason to believe my starving art could paint me into a new scene I'm a fool to expect it, this exodus for the rest of us restless on the present precipice or cliff face Calling it change I've lived in a nightmare well before sleeping I'm saying Let's all move on From here, stop the star gazing

27