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Untittled
Sorrow, blackness, never-ending
It’s just a new start, another beginning.
A lot of people don’t like the subject,
And awful one they would rather reject.

Have you guessed what it is?
More fun is show biz.
It rhymes with Beth,
Yes, you are right, it is Death


After i wrote that one, i started to dislike the ending. if you have any ideas on how to make it better or for a ny of my poems, leave a comment or PM me.

LOVE
Love can be hard,
Just like anything else.
You have to look around,
And evaluate yourself.

Without love in the world,
We would be nowhere.
A terrible place,
That no one could bear.

In love,
There’s always a chance of getting hurt,
Just like playing at the park,
There’s always a chance of getting covered in dirt.

Love is a very strong and powerful thing,
Just like a gust from and eagle’s wing.
It’s something that adults need to behold,
It’s something that all kids need to be told.

Thus, we know that love is true,
And truly, we need to be careful;
Because if we aren’t,
In the end we’ll end up tearful.


This is just the truth about love. i like it cause its so realistic.

PIRATES
Pirates of the Pearl,
Rowing in the ocean,
Searching for the treasure,
With a great devotion.

Jack is at the head,
Steering the mighty ship,
Turning left and right,
As it takes a dip.
Davey Jones is on their trail,
There is no time to waste,
He’s catching up to them,
Without any haste.

Alas, Will is caught,
Forced to work on the Dutchman,
Davey owns his soul,
Along with all the other men.

Will Finally escapes,
At The hands of Jones,
And regrets to say,
What’s left is only bones.

Let me guess,
You think Will is dead?
But you are wrong,
He’s in his bed.

Davey Jones is gone,
He tells his wife,
He came after me,
So I took his life.

He Died a very painful death,
And this is now the end,
Another life is just beyond,
And now it can begin.


This one, as you can no doubt tell, is from Pirates Of The Caribbean. I think its just funny cause i was forced to write a poem about POTC at school by my POTC obbsessed friends.

Untittled
IN an old, beat up barn,
Where the willow trees grow thick,
A once burning candle,
Is nothing but a wick.

The mother and her children,
Strive for their lives,
As the father goes hunting,
To fee his loving wife.

They dont have much.
Only but one bed,
The kids sleep in the corner,
As the dog lies there dead.

I know this story is grim,
But it must be told,
So suck up all your tears,
And be strong and bold.

that one was the one i wrote on my way back from my g-mas after Thanksgiving. Do you like it?

The Little Girl
The little girl,
That could do a thing,
The little girl,
That always had to hide her pain.
The little girl.
Who always cried.
The little girl,
That wished she had died.
The little girl,
Whose parents hated her,
The little girl,
Who wished her firneds could save her.
The little girl,
That grew older every year.
The little girl,
That wished she could just dissappear.
The little girl,
That wished the world would leave her be,
The little girl,
That was me.

I wrote this one after i got into a abig fight with my parents... i still dislike them because of it..

Depression
Depression is like death,
Always dark and grim,
Handed to you like a cup,
Filled to the brim.
He said he'd always love me,
'Till the day he died,
But then he left me hangin'
And never told me why.
When his friend called
Told me that we couldnt be together,
That he still loveved me,
But we had nothing left to weather.
It tore me to pieces.
When i heard this dreadful news,
Hoping that he'd call my back,
Saying that was just her veiws.
I sat there in my room,
And cried for hours,
While he was probablly off,
Giving someone flowers.
I wished that we could be together,
Forever and for always,;
As our love grew stronger,
With the passing days.

That was the one i wrote right after i broke up with my boyfriend.... he really did breake up with me through another girl.. No hes asking me best friend out.... after he broke up with another girl. right after me. i was pissed but we're friends now.

The Nile
Paddeling up the Nile,
As the water Ripples,
All the children playing,
Faces making demples.

Always people working,
Doing the work that must be done,
Mummifying the dead,
Heaving bricks until; there's none.

Alas the great pruamid is built,
And the mighty king a mummy,
The pharoah now burried,
The covering ground, lumpy.

The Bright sun rises,
Creating everlasting light,
The god Amon-Re,
Soon to make night.


This is a poem that i wrote for a S.S. project.. i like the last stanza.... i like the word choice but that's just me.. tell me what you think! PLZ!!