Poem Thread

Poem Thread.
Write short, meaningful writings about anything, they must be made on the spot. I'll start.

It wasn't that she left. I was fine with being without her. It's just that I wasn't fine with being with myself without her.
She made me someone else and I could just never forget her smell. Even when she didn't shower. She had that specific skin smell.
I was always told that I should leave her, that she was manipulating and using me but I never thought of that to be true.
Some things in life we look at in such a way that completely blinds us.
Sometimes we're at a point in life where we look at everything and everyone through a darkened lens and no matter how bright the day is, we will always see it a little bit less brighter.
Now, people blame you for not having a smile as big as theirs but take and accept no blame from you for having the smile that they have. Because sometimes just as much as it bothers them to see you sad, it bothers you to see them happy trying to make you happy. Be happy a lone people, i'm in another world, in another dimension.

Who's next?

There once was a soldier named Tom
Who came across a bomb
It blew up in sight
And gave him a fright
So he ran back home to his mom

Poems don't have to always rhyme. Here's an example from a great show, written by a girl;

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear for the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And underneath that?
I am absolutely naked.
And I've got skin.
Miles and miles of skin ;
I've got skin to cover all my thoughts like saran wrap that you can see through to what leftovers are inside from the night before.
My skin is so soft, smooth, and easily scarred.
But that doesn't matter, right?
You don't care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.
But what if all they do is crack open windows so I can see lighting through the clouds?
What if all they crave is a jungle gym for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook to scribble in or a hand to hold?
But that's not the story you want.
You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.
Just once, I would like to be the direction someone else is going in.
I don't need to be the water in the well.
I don't need to be the well.
But I'd like to not be the ground anymore.
I'd like to not be the thing people dig their hands in looking for something they can own.
Some people can recognize a tree, a front yard and know they've made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?
How long before I’m lost for good?
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.
I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

Big sauna
Down the road
Hot and spicy
I feel reborn

I see a picture, big and blurred. I cannot see the corners. Something only seen by souls who show courage. I'm too scared to look at it. Foreign. Familiar. It comes and goes like the wind, showing itself in brief moments, when you need it most. I hate that it does that. Show yourself. It mocks me when I have my back turned and just like the wind, I feel it's familiar presence. Unnerving and relentless. What if it's not out to get me? What if, as if a game of hide and seek, it is hiding but wants to be found?
I think I may have found it.

What is your name stranger?..

I am Clarity.
There's still time left for us to be together again. Grow in your sadness.

Op sucking cock,
As hard as a rock,
Makes a poem thread,
KYS dead

not bad.

Fuck You
University Fag
Cuck
Kill yourself
oh look an acrostic

Feel heavenly
Said the bottle
Dropped that glass
Shook my ass
And fucked barney rubble

good one.

I'm a gay ass drop out, so we're good. I'm not actually gay though.

Niggers niggers niggers niggers niggers. Niggers smell like niggers, what do ya know! Be careful around niggers. Niggers.

Get shorty
I thought it said
Get back quick
Pow
Now I'm dead
I misread

Wow this is a pretty gay thread

Gay thread
Get in the shed

and yet look at all the responses. Don't be gay faggot. Should us with a poem, you seem Shakespearean.

OP was super gay.
He went to get it in the A.
Wrote on Sup Forums,
that dirty ham.
And would never have his day.

My name is Jafar,
I come from afar,
I have a bomb in my car
Allahu Ackbar

but what if you are a flaming gay who hates Shakespeare and fucks goats for a living?

Do you feel it? Nothing. Try again with your eyes closed. Do you feel it now? Nothing. Who am I? A storm. I carry the darkness inside but it does not hurt. It is heavy. This desert is baron. I don't think I can bring life back to it. Rain. This weight is too much. I think I will rain today. Beginning.


>rate?

20/10 with extra faggot!

I'll take it, just like your dick

Sometimes I fart.
I know no one loves me for it.
But sometimes.
I really do.
Fart.

This pleases my cock.

not bad.
racist but kek material
Thing is I am an arab but I'm sadly not gay and I have nothing against Shakespeare.
Not bad but you're concentrating too much on sounding edgy and in the process you lose any meaning to be found in your writing. Try to concentrate on putting some meaning in it first then use words to make it sound "edgy". Good try though, 6/10. Would be 8 if I saw some meaning in it.

Where do I go when i'm alone?
I go to see my Sup Forumsrethrens who share similar sorts of pain as I do.
As the best cure to a disease is having others who have it as well go through it as you go through it.
See, the pain, some of it is mental and some of it is physical but most of it is within. Within your soul, trying to get out and every time you try to keep it in it punctures your insides. Because if you lose your soul, what are you? Dead.
And if you keep caging an imprisoned soul that clearly wants to get out, what are you? Dead but breathing.

Keep it coming Sup Forumsoys, who's next?

I hide in the shadows of yesterday..
whats left to wonder?
Whatever i am. Could become..
Nothing but headache for my soul
Being high.. falling down.down.down.

Solid advice user. Example though? Struggling to understand what you mean

not bad

OP THIS IS AN EPIC POEM.

HARAM

HARAM

HARAM

Beautiful.

HARAM

Good.

HARAM

Look here its OP oh what a faggot,
How many big black cocks can he take -
His penis the size of a maggot,
His scrawny body like a thin frail rake.

He lived in the basement of his mom's,
Never saw the sun nor went to school prom,
Kissless, neckbeard virgin forever alone,
He cries on his pillow and in the night he moans.

Wakes early in the morning it's barely three,
He brushes aside the cheetos and boots PC,
Surfs the web heads straight to the chan,
And feels the feels from this lonely man.

"Goodnight, sweet prince - so long Sup Forums tards,
I hope you've learnt to play your cards,
Whenever you're down just remember this thread,
By the time you read this I'll be dead"

you are an asshole,
just fuck me already please
and shut the fuck up.

Do you feel it?(feel what? your pain, your misery? *add some meaning*) Nothing. Try again with your eyes closed. Do you feel it now? Nothing. Who am I? A storm. I carry the darkness inside but it does not hurt. It is heavy. (*OP adding* - relentless, dark, carries my misery, misery no one can see, because a storm is just like lighting, one second it's there, in full force and in another it has vanished, leaving behind the damage it has made, a broken lamp post or a rusted car. - *OP out. /elaborate more on your ideas, leave some meaning behind, don't just end it with a sentence or two/.) This desert is baron. I don't think I can bring life back to it.(more about the desert, why is it baron, why is it so dead, what killed it, was it war? was it an extinct species? /try to invoke feelings in the reader, by adding more, adding emotion/.) Rain. This weight is too much. I think I will rain today. Beginning. (/also maybe more about the rain?/)

Otherwise you're doing good.

not bad. a mockery but not bad.

what the fuck is this
what is fucking going on
fuck this is too much

bump

Do you feel it? Nothing. Try again with your eyes closed. Do you feel it now? Something is coming. A vision of a desolate land ravaged by the one they call Heart. The place I call home. Who am I? A storm. I carry the darkness inside but it does not hurt. It is heavy. This desert is baron. I don't think I can bring life back to it. Bleeding rain drops. This weight is too much, filling up, I feel it bursting at the seams. I think I will rain today. Beginning.

>How's about now?

I guess I'm kind of into ambiguity

i can write haikus
poems often rhyme a lot
that is all I know

Error 404
Your haiku could not be found
Please try again

not bad, if you're into ambiguity then what you're doing is above average. Keep it going. I'd still say try adding some emotion in your writings every now and then. Also think of how the reader percieves what you write while you're writing. If you get too personal and too into your own mind you'll end up with a writing that only holds meaning to you. Relevance.

Top notch

Ahhh I get it, solid advice user. Back to then.

Making another poems thread later

Roses are red.
Niggers are black.
The world is ruled by kikes,
faggots and dykes.

I did 5 lines of an unknown powder with my father and watched a comedy special on HBO. It had dawned on us that Gallagher was enacting his own vilgilante justice on watermelons after one ate his unborn child. Afterward we decided the only way we could fend off Gallagher from smashing watermelons into extinction was to turn into watermelons and mate. My father fucked me in the ass while giving me a reach around. "It BURNS! It BURNS! Dear God in heaven help me IT BURNS!!!" I exclaimed, Oh it was in alright.

Grunting with effort, my father ripped the sides of his rectum apart, pulling them into an open circle large enough to fit a tennis ball in with room to spare. He turned me around and said: "I'm ready." I ripped off my tanktop and filled my fists with cornflakes. With all my effort, I threw a mighty punch right through my father's sphincter, at an angle, so that it landed firmly against the inside of his colon.

"Harder!" he yelled.

I pulled my fist back for another swing. I wasn't going to accept failure. I was going to beat the cancer out if it took all night. When suddenly the door ripped open, and we saw Steve standing there, complete with some unattractive whore he had found at the bar. His mouth was wider than dad's anus. But that wasn't stopping us. There was shit and milk everywhere, my room mate standing at the door to the room, and me fucking his lifelong love in his ass full of cornflakes while he ate a bowl of semen infused Cheerios. Trapped in the past, I find myself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong, and hoping each time that my next leap will be the leap home.

Sup Forums oldfag here
Writing poems is so hard
If dubs post titties

Last line only has 4 syllables...not a haiku.

here I go again
one self-referential
poem like before

let me redact that
there was a mistake in there
the second line was short

***
here I go again
one more self-referential
poem like before
***

No one wants to hear you misery.

The world just doesn't really care.

The best is to throw yourself for an artillery.

Wouldn't miss losers like you, there are enough spare.

You never cared about my wellness
Took a look, and said I was the illness
Deficit, do we need help? Hell yes!
Peace accord, to afford, a brand new dress.
Abwhore deplore: Finally to say what I couldn't before
Everyone get up, on the floor
Everybody walk..... the dinosaur.