Behind the LimelightThe alarm screamsTo wake her for the day.Slowly she abandons her nighttime dreamsAs she prepares to hide her soul away.She sits in front of the mirrorPutting on a facade of mascara and blush.Her image becomes strikingly clearerAs the rest of the world falls into a blurry hush.Only she can see her true reflectionWhich is masked behind her fame.Everyone else sees her practiced perfection,But only she knows that her flaws are tamed.With fans screaming all aroundShe walks out on the stage,And as the music begins to play in the background,She feels as if she's locked in a cage.But when she begins to sing the song she wrote,She keeps her image calm and composed.And her voice perfectly hits every noteAs she remain hidden with most of her body exposed.At the end of her performanceShe leaves the limelight empty.Finally alone, she can take off her pretenseAnd let her tears fall where no one else can see.All of her pain and misery falls to the floorWhere it joins her lone
Poetry in High SchoolCummings,Wordsworth,and Williams;read their poetry,see their meter(or lack there of)delve deep and pull out the hidden meaning.Who says there is one?Can't a poet write just because?Or does every English teacher have todissect and tear apart each versein their vain search ofstupidsymbolism.
XCVIwhen all around me's crashing downwith feet no longer planted firmly on the ground,i close my eyesto find myself in paradise;protected in the arms of my angel.
XCVIIISweet and tender butterfly wings flutter,tipping my rainbow upside down and swinging to the &
UnworthyHow did I ever get this high or is it just a dream---His eyes looking into my own piercing my soul to the very core,melting my heart with the simple sound of
The Art of PoetryIt's often hard to find a museFor poetry that one can use,And effectively pierce the heartAnd melt the soulBy tearing them apart,And then making them wholeIn the same work of artBy mastering poetry's control;To captivate the reader in simple thingsSuch as lullabies a mother singsOr the graffiti on city buildings,And its exciting way of gildingThose boring downtown wallsThat you wonder how they stand at all,Or the yellow lines on busy streetsThat control the cars whose bumpers meet;Or the little cracks within the sidewalksWhere little weeds grow in little stalksOnly to be trampled on by pedestrian feetAs they walk to little cafes that make it fun to eat,Or the timing of intersection stoplightsThat stays constant all day and night,Producing a pretty boring sceneAs they change from red to yellow to green;Or an old church's or library's architectureAlong with the downtown abstract sculpturesWith curving strips of steel and concreteThat are scattered among the cit
Shut OutCan you hear my voice--- calm and desperate for you(do you know how muchI hurt for you to let me in?)set your beating heart inside my hands, dripping your tortured thoughts upon my flesh,and seeping your imprisoned tears &
Ode to the MurderedThe clock strikes blood,cold, hard deathwith sightless, pale facesand frozen hands.They leave this world unfinishedwith silently stained secretsengraved deeply by fate,forcing their souls foreverfrom this peace less world,forsaking them in this place without feeling,this place where all they haveis not enough.
My WarThis war seems to never endAs I fight for myself every day.My wounds barely begin to mendWhen another bomb explodes in my way.Daily I battle my darkest memoriesWhile dust rises in the air of my strife.Ironically I can still clearly see my enemiesAs they hold me under their lethal knife.Fairness, I guess, is not on my side,And happiness seems rare.Reality laughs at the tears I've cried,But the world has never cared.Trembling, I lift my weapon,My own gun of hate.All of a sudden my flesh is painted crimsonAs it's pierced by bullets of fate.Soon my soul is buried by smoke and stoneAs I struggle through the confusion,And when I find myself standing alone,I wonder if I'm in reality or a delusion.But this thought is quickly dashedAs yet another bomb blows up before me.My body is covered by flame and ashIn my enemy's effort to kill me.Desperate, my adversary murders and rapesIn attempt to stop my heart,Yet somehow I always find an escape,But it doesn't save me from f