Poem:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lost:

 

 

 

Dreamless nights

 

 

 

Wasted days

 

 

 

Does life have any meaning?

 

 

 

What does it have to give?

 

 

 

Am I here just waiting for my life's night?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are so many questions,

 

 

 

but is there any answers?

 

 

 

Who shows me the right path?

 

 

 

Who tells me where to step?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm lost.

 

 

 

No map, no compass

 

 

 

My life has no direction

 

 

 

I'm useless

Poem:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time is tickin

 

 

 

tickin away

 

 

 

no time to play

 

 

 

ppl dien everyday

 

 

 

but we cant stop it

 

 

 

we just watch it

 

 

 

the only thing we do is try to merchant a rune med helmet

 

 

 

thats not right

 

 

 

despite

 

 

 

the fact that our brains have been washed down and wiped

 

 

 

runescape this runescape that

 

 

 

now let me sell my santa hat

 

 

 

so quit while you can

 

 

 

and just let it be a one night stand (dont think the wrong way)

 

 

 

cuz im a soldja

 

 

 

ima get that dirt off my shouldas

 

 

 

so just dont tell me that i didnt warn ya

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

there ya go some aucapela for u....lol....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BTW- rsn- spidey2k7

sun shines in the morning

 

 

 

in the night the moon is dark.

 

 

 

im sooooo good :lol:

Poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

written by me :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toys 'R' Us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One day I went to Toys 'R' Us,

 

 

 

On a big old yellow bus.

 

 

 

When the bus had arrived, I was asleep,

 

 

 

In a good dream, so very deep.

 

 

 

I finally awoke with a start

 

 

 

To see that the bus was about to part.

 

 

 

I stood up and ran for the door,

 

 

 

But I tripped on my shoelace and fell on the floor.

 

 

 

I screamed to the driver, "Get me off the bus!

 

 

 

I want to get to Toys 'R' Us!"

 

 

 

He said, "OK,

 

 

 

Whatever you say."

 

 

 

I finally got off the bus,

 

 

 

And looked at good ol' Toys 'R' Us.

 

 

 

The only problem was on the door,

 

 

 

There was a sign, close to the floor.

 

 

 

It said, "Closed at 9 p.m."

 

 

 

"Just my luck," I said. "It is 9:01 p.m."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

written by me in 5th grade...5 years ago lol

 

 

 

got published in the teachers selection anthology of poetry, 200 edition, im happy :D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the last line doesnt ryhme:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The only problem was on the door,

 

 

 

It said, "Closed at 9 p.m."

 

 

 

"Just my luck," I said. "It is 9:01 p.m."

 

 

 

but very good :)

A Poem i wrote, inspired by my best mate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scars Of Lament

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A silent meadow, in the bustle of springÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâæ

 

 

 

A singing bird, uncommon - beauty given form

 

 

 

Jealousy, turmoil, anarchy enraging

 

 

 

Tangible evil, unspoken norm.

 

 

 

The bird now lies dead, spotless body now broken

 

 

 

Immortal soul floating away, 'cross the wide ocean

 

 

 

Blood drained from its body, pristine no more?

 

 

 

Attacked in mid-song, peck marks galore

 

 

 

Difference outstanding, jealousy; perversion the [bleep]!

 

 

 

Avian murderers contrite, brows once filled with spite

 

 

 

Ached for the song and the word,

 

 

 

Of the little white bird, henceforth unheard.

 

 

 

Such is lament, these are its scars,

 

 

 

Perfection made flesh, crushed in this world of ours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yet how does one stand against the majority,

 

 

 

Today just a bird, tomorrow maybe many?

 

 

 

Grieve for the right, and their rights to be,

 

 

 

Be as they are, Exist and live free.

 

 

 

For what is society, but quirks of the bulk,

 

 

 

Non-conformity is evil, in darkness we skulk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grieve for the soul of the silent man

 

 

 

Lament his ego, age old and craven

 

 

 

Morality sways, justice long fallen,

 

 

 

Conscience will leave too, one more life span

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grieve for the woman, who loses her right,

 

 

 

To roam, unguarded, the lone quiet streets at night.

 

 

 

Her virtue torn, faith ripped apart,

 

 

 

(No injury more heinous) No silence louder than the shredding of her heart

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grieve for the child, innocent and pure

 

 

 

Forced to adulthood, at the hands of one, dear

 

 

 

Think of his mind, once unspoilt and untouched

 

 

 

Now destined to fear, hatred he'll clutch

 

 

 

Close to his heart, his only respite

 

 

 

From the storm of exclusion, denial and torment

 

 

 

For the young made old, lament ÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ãâælament.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The scars you see, will they ever heal?

 

 

 

Or sear under the yoke of yet one more weal.

 

 

 

To live in the past, and dream of return,

 

 

 

Destroys the present, thoughts of hope spurned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lament the scars, that harsh reminder

 

 

 

Of dreams undreamt which weren't given a chance.

 

 

 

Of heroes unsung in that immortal dance

 

 

 

of life; of tears shed in joy and pain;

 

 

 

and of voices that will never laugh again.

 

 

 

Of memories of those long gone by,

 

 

 

Fated, by luck; not, by these visions, to cry

 

 

 

Of blind who saw and deaf who heard,

 

 

 

(Lament) the unsung song of a little white bird.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope you guys like it :), don't flame, only a beginner :(

poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

shall i compare thee with a summers day?

 

 

 

thou are more lovely and more temperate

 

 

 

rought winds do shake the darling buds of maie

 

 

 

and summers lease hath all to short a date

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines

 

 

 

and often is his gold complexion dimm'd

 

 

 

and every faire from faire sometime declines

 

 

 

by chance, or natures changing course untrimm'd

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but thy eternal summer shall not fade

 

 

 

nor loose possession of that faire thou ows't

 

 

 

nor shall death brag thou wandr'st in his shade

 

 

 

when in eternal lines to time thou grow'st

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

so long as men can breath or eyes can see

 

 

 

so long lives this and this gives life to thee :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

you should think about this one, it has some truth in it

Poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wind is music to my ears,

 

 

 

if i could be a bird

 

 

 

or be one of the falling leavs,

 

 

 

I would be free

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If i could drink the unspoiled water

 

 

 

I could taste the nature

 

 

 

And if i meet The Reaper

 

 

 

I wont see the future

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I could be a child forever

 

 

 

I would be so lonely

 

 

 

that i would drown myself in the river

 

 

 

and in the other side

 

 

 

i would be happy

IM building a rocket

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

im building a rocket.

 

 

 

as soon as im done

 

 

 

im talking my friend

 

 

 

on a trip to the sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but what do you mean

 

 

 

that the sun is to hot?

 

 

 

oh well, i suppose

 

 

 

ill just pick a new spot

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

im building a rocket

 

 

 

im finishing soon

 

 

 

and talking my friend

 

 

 

on a trip to the moon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but what do you mean

 

 

 

that the moon has no air

 

 

 

well dang, then i guess

 

 

 

that we cant go up there

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

im building a rocket.

 

 

 

its going to fly.

 

 

 

im talking my friend

 

 

 

way up high in the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but what do u mean

 

 

 

when you ask how we`ll land?

 

 

 

this rocket is harder

 

 

 

to build then i planned

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

to heck with the rocket.

 

 

 

its out in the shed.

 

 

 

ÃÆÃâÃâïm talking my friends

 

 

 

out for pizza insted

Poem :

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am who I am, but not who I wanted to be,

 

 

 

You can sit and Judge, it matters not to me,

 

 

 

You may not be happy or feel a need,

 

 

 

To belittle and think you are better than me,

 

 

 

It matters not because you need to see,

 

 

 

I am happy and at peace with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I could be better of that there is no doubt,

 

 

 

But you assume to know me, and know nothing about,

 

 

 

What makes me me or gives cause to shout.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My life is my own you have no control you see,

 

 

 

Because unlike you I am at peace with me.

POEM

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once apon a midnight clear

 

 

 

I slayed a dragon without spilling my beer

 

 

 

A dwarven stout to make me strong

 

 

 

From this tale I wrote this song

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sing of the fun times

 

 

 

Sittin at my puter

 

 

 

Raising my theiving

 

 

 

So I could be a looter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Think of the fun times

 

 

 

Chopping yews just for fun

 

 

 

No random event mimes

 

 

 

But then my axe broke - Son of a 'gun'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Speak of the fun times

 

 

 

Pking with your clan

 

 

 

When along comes a lvl 75 noob

 

 

 

He teles away, "Comeon noob be a man!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alas, past are the fun times

 

 

 

When RS gets stale

 

 

 

I'll run to me RL pub

 

 

 

And drink me some ale.

poem:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ok.. you said it could be about anything...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

anything

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

anything is anything

 

 

 

so anything is this

 

 

 

so this must be anything

 

 

 

and anything must be this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

so that would mean that..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

somthing is somthing

 

 

 

so somthing is this

 

 

 

so this must be somthing

 

 

 

and somthing must be this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ok rather bad but hey! it's a bit of fun :lol:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~mace

I like eels

 

 

 

And how they feels

 

 

 

Except for meals

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i ty

There once was a Yak from Iraq,

 

 

 

Who met another Yak she knew a while back,

 

 

 

They found a deserted track,

 

 

 

And as they walked they went yakkity-yak-yak-yak!

Birds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living in the forest,

 

 

 

High among the trees,

 

 

 

They carol their song

 

 

 

They whistle with the wind

 

 

 

This is what some people believe,

 

 

 

That helps them

 

 

 

Live in harmony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a drizzly,

 

 

 

Stormy night.

 

 

 

They look like a rainbow,

 

 

 

In the sky.

 

 

 

In the night when they sleep,

 

 

 

TheyÃÆââââ¬Å¡Ã¬Ã¢ââ¬Å¾Ã¢re quiet

 

 

 

Like the stars in the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the bright shiny sun,

 

 

 

They glimmer like gold

 

 

 

A gold, so vivid

 

 

 

It made the forest feel like home.

 

 

 

It was a home

 

 

 

Unlike any other

 

 

 

A home,

 

 

 

Made for the animals and me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Though it makes me sad,

 

 

 

To know these birds

 

 

 

And their home

 

 

 

Might not exist tomorrow.

 

 

 

My memories

 

 

 

Will always help me,

 

 

 

Remember

 

 

 

The birds,

 

 

 

Of the rainforest.

 

Poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

written by me :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toys 'R' Us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One day I went to Toys 'R' Us,

 

 

 

On a big old yellow bus.

 

 

 

When the bus had arrived, I was asleep,

 

 

 

In a good dream, so very deep.

 

 

 

I finally awoke with a start

 

 

 

To see that the bus was about to part.

 

 

 

I stood up and ran for the door,

 

 

 

But I tripped on my shoelace and fell on the floor.

 

 

 

I screamed to the driver, "Get me off the bus!

 

 

 

I want to get to Toys 'R' Us!"

 

 

 

He said, "OK,

 

 

 

Whatever you say."

 

 

 

I finally got off the bus,

 

 

 

And looked at good ol' Toys 'R' Us.

 

 

 

The only problem was on the door,

 

 

 

There was a sign, close to the floor.

 

 

 

It said, "Closed at 9 p.m."

 

 

 

"Just my luck," I said. "It is 9:01 p.m."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

written by me in 5th grade...5 years ago lol

 

 

 

got published in the teachers selection anthology of poetry, 200 edition, im happy :D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the last line doesnt ryhme:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The only problem was on the door,

 

 

 

It said, "Closed at 9 p.m."

 

 

 

"Just my luck," I said. "It is 9:01 p.m."

 

 

 

but very good :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You do realize poems DON'T HAVE TO RHYME!

So many great entries!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will have a hard time choosing a winner here, I actually never thought I'd get this many poems to choose from :D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'll pick a winner and a 2nd tomorrow.

:D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope my Love acrostic peom wins. :)

Poem:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the dawn of the morrow

 

 

 

When the mist rises

 

 

 

At the edge of the world

 

 

 

Meet at the river

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The river they call Lum

 

 

 

That runs through the lands

 

 

 

The battle will begin there

 

 

 

Where bloodshed beware

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The enemy comes through

 

 

 

Through the edge of the border

 

 

 

The border of light

 

 

 

And the border of dark

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then we will fight

 

 

 

All of us with the light

 

 

 

To defeat the dark

 

 

 

And send them back

 

 

 

To the hellgates

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some will fall

 

 

 

Some will stand

 

 

 

Be strong of heart

 

 

 

And you will withstand

Cabbage, Cabbage!

 

 

 

Thou arth my calling.

 

 

 

I climb the stile and bank my hoards

 

 

 

I pick, and play with the friends of the O.o.C.

 

 

 

Then we will take pictures for the boards.

 

 

 

Our memories of splendor will be remembered

 

 

 

As You know I am a full-fledged devotee.

 

 

 

KAH-BAH-GEE to you all. And be just.

 

 

 

I pick cabbage till my hands go red with blood.

 

 

 

I pick cabbage from day to nightfall.

 

 

 

Our founder is gone but thy spirit of picking lives on.

 

 

 

In the furure, Our demise will be the cause or our own.

 

 

 

But in the end, the "green gold" will always pwn.

 

 

 

And, others such as the onion will fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:oops:

 

 

 

Some parts dont rhyme and it just sucks.

:D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope my Love acrostic peom wins. :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

oops, sry loth... that was me... i posted on my brothers computer so it was logged on in his name

whos the winner??

Poem by Funky:

 

 

 

Enjoi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roses are red,

 

 

 

Violets are blue,

 

 

 

Some poems rhyme,

 

 

 

This one doesn't.

1 or 0 or 100 or 99?

rofl at funky

so.........whos the winner?? :roll: