Post a poem that means something to you.

It's one of mine so not good like the others posted .

The scream

i know how it is to hurt all alone
When nightmares hide deep within dreams
And little boys hold all their secrets inside
But, when do I get to scream?

I know what it's like to be silent and brave
And stand still while fingers ream
And fight the tears back, when the night seems so black
But when do I get to scream?

I know what it's like to make yourself numb
And pretend you have great self-esteem
To live someone's life whom you don't know at all
Who smiles through his urges to scream.

And when I am dead and they open me up
They will find things were not what they'd seemed
For the child and the man and the demons will fly
Out of me, with a deafening scream.

The Door -
by: Rob Paquin

I've had my ups and downs
My highs and lows
Walked in the fires
of my soul's bellows
And through it all
I came to know
That before me stood A Door.

So with a trembling hand
I knocked not once but twice
When it didn't open I knocked thrice
Behind it I knew
There was a vice
So I pushed upon The Door.

There it was
A whole new place
Where a man could stand
And feel the grace
Of friends who cared
That he could embrace
Just beyond That Door.

With my broken
Heart and mind
I stepped through
In hopes to find
Things to heal
and to unbind
What transpired before The Door.

For a time
I felt so free
With a brand new world
In front of me
I bared my soul for all to see
In the land beyond That Door.

Friends were made
So tried and true
And like a bard
I rhymed for you
I hope you smiled
A time or two
As I played outside The Door.

I felt things
I could not have expected
Fell in love
And was rejected
Yet through it all
I still respected
Those from the other side of The Door.

My time spent there
Came at a cost
My heart was shattered
My soul so lost
Into the winds
My life was tossed
In the storms outside The Door.

Yet still I wandered
Too long I tarried
And though most blows
I deftly parried
A new set of scars
My soul now carried
From my time beyond That Door.

I still held friends
I was quite used to
And despite the hurts
That I'd been put through
I found a way to write
Rhymes that were new
As I danced just past The Door.

I frolicked in fields
Filled with Daisies
I burned in the sun
which was so hazy
It was almost fun
To watch myself go crazy
As I looked back at The Door.

It seemed so strange
To hear nice things said
When deep inside
I just felt dead
With all the darkness
In my head
I heard the creaking of The Door.

It sounded like
It called my name
It teased and taunted me
All the same
It cursed at me
And cast it's blame
That Accusatory Door

I ignored it all
With no remorse
As I smiled through
The pain of course
I pretended to be happy
But it all was forced
There were lights inside The Door.

I wondered if
That light could save me
From the bad decisions
That had made me
And take me out
Of this game that played me
If I just went back through The Door.

I thought inside
there would be a bed
A place for me
To rest my head
I looked down at wounds
That still bled
And stepped back towards The Door.

Though I tried
To walk so straight
The hour seemed to grow so late
And in the twilight
I found barred gates
Before I could reach The Door.

The moonlight shined
But I could not see
The paths that laid
In front of me
Soon I was surrounded
By thickets and trees
And I couldn't see The Door.

Fear and dread
Came for me then
I had become so lost
But did not know when
I tried to recall
Just where I'd been
And where I'd find That Door.

Then in a flash
I was in a maze
My thoughts and feelings
All in a daze
I looked and looked
But couldn't find the ways
That led back to The Door.

I felt strange eyes
Upon my back
I turned to look
Yet all was black
An invisible foe
On the attack
I wished for the safety of The Door.

It came for me
Again and again
In this land
of so called friends
I was alone
And could not pretend
That I longed for The Door.

To be safely found
Returned to the porch
To be given the light
Of a singular torch
I burned inside
With my sanity scorched
I cried out for The Door.

So there I was
As I burned with fire
Dying inside
As my heart expired
After everything
That had transpired
I again could see The Door.

As I walked
I heard a scream
The kind that destroys
And steals your dreams
I thought on what
It might mean
And knew it was a warning of The Door.

It asked me
What shall you gain
It said to look
At what I had overcame
It said to double check my aim
If I were aiming for The Door.

And like a flash
I became withdrawn
I knew I couldn't
Carry on
I could not summons
Brains nor brawns
Or a feeling for The Door.

It started to feel
just like a trap
It seemed to me
I was off the map
Still the distance shortened
As I closed the gap
Between myself and The Door.

The wind did whip
And lightning crack
The starlight faded
From my beaten track
I knew right then
there was no coming back
If I stepped on through The Door.

With all my desires
Still entreated
And all my wishes
Damn near depleted
My soul so crushed
And hopes defeated
I sat down before The Door.

I just sat there
As my mind shut down
I closed my heart without a sound
I watched the waters
Where my soul did drown
Never walking through The Door.

Then I laid
With no more fire
There betrayed
By my own desire
The ending come
Like a last retire
I closed my eyes there at The Door.

And in the end
As I did perish
I thought back on
Those things I cherished
And my twisted life
So stark and hellish
On both sides of The Door.

*-THE SNOWDOG-*

There are to many to count but I know this one by heart. AE HOUSEMAN

The Immortal Part Lyrics

XLIII

When I meet the morning beam,
Or lay me down at night to dream,
I hear my bones within me say,
"Another night, another day."

"When shall this slough of sense be cast,
This dust of thoughts be laid at last,
The man of flesh and soul be slain
And the man of bone remain?"

"This tongue that talks, these lungs that shout,
These thews that hustle us about,
This brain that fills the skull with schemes,
And its humming hive of dreams,-"

"These to-day are proud in power
And lord it in their little hour:
The immortal bones obey control
Of dying flesh and dying soul."

" 'Tis long till eve and morn are gone:
Slow the endless night comes on,
And late to fulness grows the birth
That shall last as long as earth."

"Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
Know you why you cannot rest?
'Tis that every mother's son
Travails with a skeleton."

"Lie down in the bed of dust;
Bear the fruit that bear you must;
Bring the eternal seed to light,
And morn is all the same as night."

"Rest you so from trouble sore,
Fear the heat o' the sun no more,
Nor the snowing winter wild,
Now you labour not with child."

"Empty vessel, garment cast,
We that wore you long shall last.
-Another night, another day."
So my bones within me say.

Therefore they shall do my will
To-day while I am master still,
And flesh and soul, now both are strong,
Shall hale the sullen slaves along,

Before this fire of sense decay,
This smoke of thought blow clean away,
And leave with ancient night alone
The stedfast and enduring bone.

My favourite

Stronger than you believe

The cold breeze blows through an open door
As I stand before it encircling my heart
I see a reflection in the glass
Of a girl ,a women ,a mother
Whose life bestows a message
The words ringing in her ears
You are stronger than the breeze
Your soul is worthy of warmth
The heart desires love and kindness
You take once last look at the reflection
And smile yes I am
As you turn you say thankyou to the breeze
For making me braver stronger than I believe I could be .

Sparkles
This is my words when I need to believe in me .

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey;
The ways deep and the weather sharp
The very dead of winter.”
And the camels galled, sore footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away and wanting their liquor and
women,
And the night fires going out, and the lack of
shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly,
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears,saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate
valley,
Wet, below the snowline, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a watermill beating
the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky.
And an old white horse galloped away in the
meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine leaves over
the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of
silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we
continued
And arrived ar evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say)
satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth
and death
But had thought they were different ; this Birth
was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our
death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old
dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

The Journey of the Magi, T S Eliot.

When learning how to type in a Middle school class, I had the hardest time learning. Picking and typing this random poem without any mistakes was so difficult for me (argh!).
The class teacher made me type it way over a dozen times, until it was perfect...,
Hehe... glad I learned though...,

[media=https://youtu.be/bfqFVhPGWGc]

Still i rise by Maya Angelou ❤️

And when I get to heaven
To St. Peter I will tell
One more soldier reporting in
I served my time in hell

Words are meaningless and forgettable

Thank you for the bc
Wasn't sure if i should post

One of my favorites

Upon Julia's Clothes
BY ROBERT HERRICK
Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows
That liquefaction of her clothes.

Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see
That brave vibration each way free,
O how that glittering taketh me!

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

https://similarworlds.com/literature/express-myself-through-writing/4332168-Just-a-little-something-Gasping-for-air-feeling

Hello my friends and haters too
Just a write from me to you

No matter if u like me or not
I have friends this I got

Instead of hate let's make peace
And start to love and make hate cease

I send my love from my heart take a lil or a big part

It's so easy just to do
Love u all from me to you

candy

September 1913
by William Butler Yeats


What need you, being come to sense,
But fumble in a greasy till
And add the halfpence to the pence
And prayer to shivering prayer, until
You have dried the marrow from the bone;
For men were born to pray and save:
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Yet they were of a different kind,
The names that stilled your childish play,
They have gone about the world like wind,
But little time had they to pray
For whom the hangman’s rope was spun,
And what, God help us, could they save?
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Was it for this the wild geese spread
The grey wing upon every tide;
For this that all that blood was shed,
For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,
All that delirium of the brave?
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It’s with O’Leary in the grave.

Yet could we turn the years again,
And call those exiles as they were
In all their loneliness and pain,
You’d cry, ‘Some woman’s yellow hair
Has maddened every mother’s son’:
They weighed so lightly what they gave.
But let them be, they’re dead and gone,
They’re with O’Leary in the grave