"ryhme" poems
this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me
I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end
I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life
I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do
I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do
But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it
But that’s the thing
I don’t see it
And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does
And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true
What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there
But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not
Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?
I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose
I can’t help but wonder
Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?
Or is it just me?
I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening
So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
I’ll try harder
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 3:18 AM UTC
(Smoking on that drill*2)..., Yeah ***** that kill2)..(Smoking on that drill3)..Yeah..(nigga that kill2)..I stay smoking on (that kill2)..Yeah..I stay smoking on (that drill2)..Aye nigga..(that kill2)..(Aye Im smoking on that drill*3)..Yeah ***** (that kill*3)..Uhh..
I ain't popping no pills , I ain't snorting nothing man, I ain't injecting myself, Im just rolling no mollies, I stay smoking on that drill, Yeah I stay smoking on (that kill*3)..nigga.. I'm getting straight to the business my ***** what's the deal, Uhh,Yeah, what's the deal with all of these buster ***** *** made fakes that's in the rap game mane, yall giving them **** ****** praises , that ain't Gods, they Satan peasants, Uhh..
I only give praises to the Heavenly Father & Jesus Christ , you should too, homie, I'm just giving out good advice, don't Idolize me my ***** I'm not a God, even thou I'm fly, even tho I ryhme so nice, dude you can be fly too, you gotta have confidence within you, look up to yourself my ***** you gotta encourage yourself, when nobody else isn't..
Uhh, Aye I stay smoking on that drill, Yeah I stay smoking on (that kill3)..So what man, Yeah mane,I'm smoking on that drill..(it helps me2)..be a better me, it medicates all my pain , it helps me meditate all of my depression away..So why the freak they got it illegalized for mane..Aye
The government is so evil homie, they the Occult , they so Satanic mane..The government been tryna destroy my reputation.. I know they after me,Yeah mane..They after me homie, wanna take my life away, Yeah they wanna put me 6 feet under with a closed casket service, mane, because all I rymhe about is the truth homie, Aye I ain't running ..noo..I won't stop tho, no I won't dawg, if death do comes then, Imma fight death all the way back where it camed from, They can throw me how much money they want to, but I won't take it,noo My soul is worth more than gold, All I need is Jesus, he saved you & me from ever being defeated, so he's the only Idol to me man..Aye..
(I stay smoking on that drill Yeah2)..(I stay smoking on that kill,Yeah2)..(smoking on that drill2)..nigga Yeah (that kill3)..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..my ***** this ain't no gangster music & I ain't no gangster Imma King Imma real ***** & , Imma Rebel too mane,..Ayo, I bet I could rap some **** that every hood ***** will blast & feel tho homie..Aye..I ain't no **** either, but I'm thugging against America..Fuck em Uhh..
I'm so g, my ***** I'm me Yeah ***** , I'm who I always wanted to be my nigga..so **** what a doubter & a hater gone think about this one...because
***** I rise3)..(nigga I strive3)..Yeah ***** (I rise2)..(nigga I strive2)..(nigga I ride*2)..for OFTR only & my ***** (thats Fo life3)..Yeah..(nigga I rise3)..(nigga I strive3)..nigga I rise..(nigga I fly2)..(nigga I rise2)..(nigga I strive2)..nigga I rise ***** I fly Aye..
(Smoking on that drill*2)..Yeah ***** that kill*2)..Yeah nigga..I stay smoking on that **** Yeah I stay smoking on that kill..nigga I'm (smoking on that drill3)..(nigga that kill2)..
Aye *****
/(I strive 2)..(I rise2)..(I fly2)../3
Smoking on that drill,..
(Yeah ***** that kill..that kill..Uhh*3)
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
Mr.Smola said that a poem is not a poem unless it ryhmes
Ahhh mr.smola
Do you really think that us poets Really have the time to just sit here and ryhme?
We have better things to do
Rather it's sit down and have a glass of wine or two
Maybe watch a tv show that is Devine
What about going to a bar and staring at someone who you think is quite fine
So mr.Smola is this clear to you
Am I getting this through
Or are you just looking up at the sky wondering why it's blue
A poem doesn't have to ryhme
Because obviously we just simply don't have that kind of time
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Life....at this point in time.....I feel the need to have the love of my life back but there is no need to ryhme
From the tip of my toes ..to the top of my head ..I still feel the pain....for the love I still hold for her it really is insane
Time has passed and seasons they change.....but deep in my heart I know that getting her back is not out of range
Soulmate....twinflame is there such a thing ?....you know there is and she is mine......there are things you just know and feel...And I do...she always said to believe...and you know what...it is true
The sleepless nights..staring at the phone that never rings.......but then again who knows what tomorrow brings
I sit on the bench looking up at the starry skies......and slip into a dream that I am staring into her beautiful eyes
As the nights and days pass......I must ask myself why I am not doing anything and still sit on my ***
Patience as I better myself and look deep within my soul.....
I think I finally realize this is my destiny that i do control.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
A mask is what you see
No one knows the real me
No not even I
No matter how I try
the rhymes can mask the pain
but i feel it everyday
trying to break its way
to the surface
and show that what you see
is not the real me
but a mask to cover up
the girl who is lost but,
the walls are holding strong
you cant hear her screams or song
sung painfully and slow
its depressing, i know,
but the truth is so much worse
than the mask you see first
so keep that mask in mind
when finally breaks the ryhme
broken, fading
faster
loosing control
desiccating
darkness consumes
falling
gone.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Sometimes, I write to understand.
And sometimes to explain
But now, the words begin to land
In a distinctive little game
I'll admit this one I do not need-
Its not essential like the rest,
But for my ego it does feed
A serenity contest.
For all I want is to be known
For all my sanctioned skills
You see this ryhme which I now own? Does it make you ill?
To think in this confession
That the power of my word
is no more than an obsession?
One that I've detered.
For followers is what I need!
Its all im really here for.
And to admit this ugly greed
Makes me crave it even more.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
you're a social studies teacher
Trying to teach English
Stop.
Like no just stop
Before I come over there and hurt you
K thanks
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Allow it in -aye, 'till when?
All at such cost, none are lost
Lo! then, what is foretold men,
Fiery talks or the coldest frost,
And breath & word alike swept
Away again, swept away in vain
A breadth as wide as death, except
We sustain all humanity, the refrain;
Yet forlorn we are in an age torn -
Such a number high of tongues cry
For mourn dost they must the morn,
Nary a ryhme of these words be lie.
The world can sever, and whosoever
Is taught to pass or stay brave & fast
Shall be learnéd & it prove no effort
If it be times as is the last that's cast.
Victory is what the sword can afford
Yet a poets pen can lord their sword.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
don't be parasitic, darling
we'll be fine, you're on my mind
i told you i dont need you,
and i've promised you i'd never lie
but there's no doubt, it must be true
i want a life alone, without you
,dont be parasitic, darling
you'll be perfect alone
you'll see it's easier that way
that's why it's harder to stay
even if it's perfect
we'll be more perfect alone
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 5:46 PM UTC
I walk through life with my palms open, my arms spread wide
and i keep my eyes looking up at the sky thinking
what was it i was supposed to do today?
i can't remeber now
i've flipped through my lists a dozen times
tripped over words that just don't ryhme
and i just can't seem to remember
what it was i was trying to say
because i feel like every time i write these words
they turn out all wrong
or like lyrics to some sort of ****** country song
and i can't help but wonder "am i trying too hard?"
to make you see this side of me that i truely don't understand myself
and it's not that i don't know who i am or what i stand for
because there are a million things i would like to say
and would gladly die for them if only given the chance
it's these words that i spill out come from a place even i haven't explored
and i would if given the time, i would take up my sheild and my sword
and ride away into the sunset and not return until i had learned
what it was i was going for.
it seems that one day just blurs into the next
and they fly by so quickly that i can't catch them with my net
and these hours i try to cherish don't seem to last
they were my future but now, now they're my past
the present you see doesn't last
and it just comes and goes way too fast
and i wish, i wish i could understand,
why it was i tried to make you see my point of view,
when yours is so much more interesting.
Mar 22, 2011
Mar 22, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
I'm not sure I'd call it fun for it often has me undone but I'm a writer
I could bite off my own tongue and still my silence would be sung through pen and paper
1000 stories in my mind if I could only find the time to speak my truth
This is not a simple ryhme listen as it takes hold, blossoms and explodes
This is my proof
But my words come tumbling out
spilling jumbled from my mouth in perfect chaos
I sift through the disorder
As I struggle against the borders that contain me
One day I'll find the words to explain how I see
Lost in their own message hidden among the wreckage is the importance of all the lies unknown to you
My mind interrupts my day whenever it has something to say and I can't fight it
May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024 at 11:04 AM UTC
Once what was pure now tarnished by demonic hands,
What ties you back are rope bands.
Dark dew drop form at the end of petals,
Light souls turn hard and cold as metals.
Crimson aborts its host and all color fades,
Then the black invades.
Its black satin petals stained cherry,
To see such a thing only Lusifer would be merry.
Its elegance gleams for quite some time,
But even it gives way to ryhme,
As it does it loses its shine.
Soiled by sin's wit,
I must omit.
That Romanian rose,
Like every other possesed thing, erode
What once was simply lovely is now chaotic elogence.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 4:36 PM UTC
Do or don't?
Just get it done!
Cause I don't wanna be
The only one
Left behind
The task at hand?
It is what God demands
Cause He doesn't want me
To be
The only one
Left behind
Will I succeed?
I am sure indeed
Cause it's the Lord's will
It is what He does need
The assurance for me
That I won't be
Left behind
Halt no more?
Of this I am sure
Cause if I do not
My spirit will rot
Then I will find
Myself
Left behind
Out of time
With no reason or ryhme?
Cause if so,
I'm not worth a dime
If I wind up being
The only one left behind
Spiritual warfare?
There's a battle at hand
To warn all the others
An honor so grand
Cause all of us know
We prefer
Not to be ******
Its time to go
And all of us know
Cause its time to change direction
And don't go with the flow
So take up your paddles
And vigorously row
Row and row
And take part in the grind
And in due time
You will find
Yourselves
Not left behind
Tis my warning
My warning for all of you
Cause the time is coming
I know this to be true
The time for each and every
One of us to find
Which ones will be left
The ones left behind
Dec 11, 2020
Dec 11, 2020 at 3:45 PM UTC
Put a gun to my head, go ahead and pull the trigger. Lifes to short to focus on forever. I find myself questioning everything in my core. Only to be brought back to earth, regret pressent ever more. Following ever little shadows down every single corridor. Avoiding those ghosts, like a movie full of horror. Their faces ever present, in my book filled with lives. Defining themselves by a bunch of silly headlines. Where has my character been and gone, to have made me become this cold. Funny how a few pictures can begin to make you unfold. So you play cat and mouse, with those who got away. Filling your half empty cup with those you met today. Lighting a match in places where ash has begun to pile. Throwing sticks at your past and waiting patiently for awhile. But the past has done just that; left you in its wake. So you drop your board; this is as far as the ride will take. Looking at your watch and wondering where the time has gone. Only realizing your watch is in the entirely wrong time zone. And now your jusy behind on the wishes of today. To busy focusing on the memories that have left and gone away. So you take the next step to getting over this **** And you write a few words and throw them in a lump. Making sentence begin to ryhme and words begin to sway. Giving credit to the rappers who have paved your lyrical way. And your mind begins to run with voices of today, only hearing the next line and what it is you want to say. So you bleed for your words and make then all come to life. Every cut you have for them, is a lifetime full of strife. So you take a single memory and hold it to the light. And your rip it in half and hold back your feelings with all your might. For your words are all you have in this never ending game. Of photo albums and picture frames, lost numbers and days filled with shame. Shame for those you meant to call, and still wish it to this day. But understand that god has come and had the final say. So you look at those you've lost, and those you can still save. And wonder if those memories should be left in their own grave. And fight back the feeling of betrayal and hate. And remind yourself each day that it will never be too late. To you show those whom you have lost that there is still something there. And you honor those who are gone, with love and an evening prayer.... Life is to short to focus on forever. But never is life to short, to write out something clever. To stir the emotion of human intent, and show those who matter you are done being silent.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 10:21 PM UTC
Sweet darlin known only to me.
You hide in the shadows.
And dance on empty floors so others will not see.
You hang onto words empty as your heart.
And cast aside all who care.
For there is no heartbreak if you never start.
You wrap yourself in lies and so freely twirl.
I wonder does anyone ever truley see.
My invisable girl.
once she was there only to vanish a little at a time.
I new the person.
More than a simple ryhme.
We loved and lost.
Shared a pain and suffred the cost.
As we live more like ghosts in a empty shell.
I wonder In your isolation.
I pitty whomever thoose secrets you tell.
Like a old cat beside a fire into a emotional ball you do
curl.
I wonder if ever you will return my invisable girl
Nov 20, 2009
Nov 20, 2009 at 1:35 AM UTC
she is a hostage to her own emotions she is a trainwreck that
causes traffic she is missing in action she is relentless she is insomnia
she is depression she is a 10 paged project that you wait
last minute to start her skin spells out different words that no
one can pronounce, but they ryhme with insecurity and
anorexia her favorite color is a mix between lilac and gray
her favorite flowers are nonexistent because she is the
type of girl to grow flowers where only weeds grow
she is unknown to everyone she meets she is a whisper
among violent storms she is a catastrophe among smiling faces
she is not a metaphor she is not a simile she cannot
be put into words she cannot be broken down into language
if you cut her she will not bleed instead she will cover it up
with a sad smile and the same phrase she always uses: I'm fine
(h.l.)
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
As the wandering eye did catch.
A glimpse of girl that she might fetch.
Charmed and wiled her way now,
And at her beauty willingly bowed.
Tempt her o'er a bottle of wine,
To see a flicker of wilder eye.
Reflected back across candlelight,
Then saw a shining gaze that night.
So now as I look back at you,
With sultry shaded eyes of dew.
Release yourself for our delight;
We could just forget this night.
Or remember wetly all the time,
Of caress and pleasure following ryhme.
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
The earasing hands of time
Will never reach you
Where I’ll keep you
Tucked in my pocket
A one line ryhme
Take you out
Unfold and hold you
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Time flies by
Forgetting you is a lie
Befriending you, I was too shy
I never had a chance to even say hi.
I can't deny, I do miss you
But the time I had was too few,
In order to get close to you,
All I can do is stare at you.
Poems I wrote about you are meaningless
Thinking about you is pointless
Even wishing to speak to you is useless
Because I know its impossible, not because I'm faithless.
Such bad luck
Confidence I lack
Here's a fun fact
Not even in friendzone, I am stuck.
Well, I can't bring back time
Now it all ryhme
To me its just fine
I never wished for you to be mine.
I fake my smiles
My distance to you are thousand miles
I Allways act like I'm fine
Because I never crossed the line.
This is going to be my last
I'll just say this fast
I may never gain your trust
To my heart, you are free at last.
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
Let's be children for a day (for a year)
And forget where the hell we came from
.
.
.
Forget where we're going.
We'll run and play and smile
And leave our nihilistic thoughts coughing in the dust.
Then we'll grow up all over again in a second
And files taxes while staring at a blank TV screen
Until we realize there's nothing more to do besides cry
Besides scream
Besides laying down and waiting for death to visit.
We'll clean the house until it's ***** and
We'll invite over a party of the entire world
And together we'll dance in a vertigo of color and light...
Until the last soul has gone home.
And we'll grow up all over again for the first time in a second.
We'll remember fear and send that country home.
We'll remember hate and send those people home.
We'll remember society and dress those people like us.
We'll remember money and haggle with that nation before we head to work.
We'll remember anger and fight and take that country's home for ourselves.
Now that we've grown up, we'll sneer at that dropout on the streets.
And that family who can't afford another bill.
And that mother without a husband.
And that husband with a husband.
And that wife with a wife.
And that child who's pursuing art.
See, now that we've grown up, we can't be seen with them.
We've grown too heavy for the clouds our heads used to live in.
Our heads are too dense for us to look up at old dreams.
But our hands are still light enough to tie a tie
And button our dress shirts.
Light enough to pay the train fare
And hand in a daily report to the boss.
I don't need a rhyme scheme to describe humanity.
There's nothing beautiful about it.
There's nothing that incites a beat.
I don't need a rhyme scheme for this.
I don't need to write a song without music
For something that never knew how to sing.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
Shall I read a book,
or make a little ryhme,
but the million dollar question,
is how to **** the time!
Few suggested take a walk,
grab the phone begin to talk,
another friend says try to cook,
but I gave him a crazy look,
someone advises, watch a game,
follow chelsea, they got fame,
My brothers idea was kinda creep,
he said forget everything, go to sleep,
I made my move, a second it took ,
Thanks to Zuckerberg, I got facebook !!
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 3:52 AM UTC
And if I didn’t spill my mind all over your surface
I’d probably go insane with these thoughts racing through my brain
This pencil perfectly transcribes all I decide must leave my conscience…
Meaning, “I can’t get you out of my head” because you plague my train of thought
While through your eyes I’ve become quite transparent
Well so be it, again, I don’t ask for much but a place to release these stranded emotions
a place where it all can be put down,
erased, and bulit up and reconstructed with some time
maybe here and there I'll put in a little ryhme
and then, maybe then, I'll gain a peace of mind...
So in time I’ll heal I just need a constant dosage of my remedy,
Just a case of insanity,
Poetry
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
Today I am tired
I wish I were fired
So I could do nothing at all
Just into my bed I'd fall
Pick up my favorite book
Not caring how I look
Just relax in a dreamy daze
Trickling through my mind's maze
Tomorrows another day
Energy will return my way
I will return to this human race
Even have a smile on my face
But for today I am going to stay
Keeping everything far at bay
Curled up by the blazing fire
Of that I could never tire
Sometimes it is awesome to be alone
Giggling when I ignore the phone
Rejuvenate my body's lack of sleep
Oh sometimes hiding is so sweet
I bid you farewell at this time
So I can go back and find my ryhme
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
I've broken your rules,
you've now repented and broken mine.
But we still love and love. Its something that can't be helped but only in time. We will settle and seal,
stitch and superglue with heal all wounds.
Forever to fathom what has gone a-rye, but only in time.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
there was a little badger the poet type was he
he loved writing poems while sat beneath a tree
sitting there for hours writing down his ryhme
having lots of fun passing on his time.
writing poems of love. and whatever came to mind
lots of different poems of a different kind.
hoping maybe oneday he would write a book
publish all his work so everyone could look.
then he could be famous a poet of the best
be in the hall of fame just ,like all the rest
just like robbi burns and mr wordsworth too
badger would be happy his dreams would all come true.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC