Poetry.
{Alright before you read this poem you must know that the word Poetry repeats its self for a reason and it sounds better if you read it out loud and pause after each time you say Poetry...i hope you understand...enjoy..}
Poetry...
It helps let out all your feelings inside
Poetry...
Even those feelings you would normally try to hide
Poetry...
It can have any topic that you feel
Poetry...
Suicide,Love, Hate whatever we know its real
Poetry...
That beautiful thing that can change someones life
Poetry...
From a suicidal poem to a man asking for a wife
Poetry...
Those words that will always be there
Poetry...
Something that you don't ask questions about not who, what, when or where
Poetry...
It has become a part of me
Love it, Hate it...it don't matter because it is and always will be...
...Poetry...HATER
DONT ENVY WHO U CANT BE,
DONT DISLIKE ME,
BE LIKE ME.DONT WHISPER BEHIND MY BACK WHEN I PASS,
BECAUSE WHILE U BACK THERE,
U CAN KISS MY A$$.DONT SMILE IN MY FACE AND TALK BEHIND MY BACK,
BECAUSE THAT JUST SHOWS THAT U A HATER,
WHICH IS A WELL KNOWN FACT.I SMILE KNOW AND CRY LATER,
I LOVE ALL,
EVEN THE HATERS.IM NOT PERFECT ,
BUT IM THE BEST AT BEING ME,
BECAUSE IF I WASNT DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB,
U WOULDNT ENVY ME.DONT BE A HATER,
ITS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH.ITS NOT GOOOD TO ENVY,
FOCUS ON YOURSELF.I am Mexican.
I'm not a criminal just because I'm a Mexican.
Just because my skin color is brown doesn't mean I'm shit.
Try to keep putting me down, I will never quit.
Don't tell me what to do, don't tell me to sit.
I'm human in this cruel inhuman world.
War all over the world makes me mind twirl.
Maybe one day my luck will change and I will find that girl.
I am Mexican, but it doesn't mean I'm criminal minded.
No I'm a vato that's determined.
You don't believe me then I'll confirm it.
There is nothing I regret.
But, also things I will never forget.
I'm just a Mexican going to school.
I don't go to school to be cool or to act a fool.
My brain is my only useful tool.
I enjoy reading, writing, and swimming in the pool.
I'm a Mexican that thinks with his mind instead of a nine.
I think my life is fine.
Or maybe I'm just blind?
Many of my people die, but people can also be kind.
They are just too hard to find.
You can judge me, kill me, bury me, burn me.
But, in the end I will only be just another Mexican.God Sent Me An Angel
I was walking along a country road one calm and cloudy day
Feeling down about the problems that had seemed to come my way
My pain was very great and my tears I could not hide
And was calling God to help me as I was hurting deep insideI then thought about what I've believed and how I've rarely called
For sometimes I have wondered if God were there at all
As I lifted up my head and looked down that road a spell
I spotted someone coming - from the distance hard to tellAs he got a little closer I could then see all the signs
Of someone who'd been down that road quite a number of times
His clothes were old and dusty and his shoes were pretty worn
But there seemed a glow about him - at least I could have swornHis face appeared real friendly as he peered up in the sky
He said, the weather is pretty calm today, hope the rain will pass us by
He first talked about the weather, but there seemed to be much more
That we both had in common, except for what we woreHe started talking about his life and the places he had been
And he spoke as if he knew me, like we were next-of-kin
From the problems that he had, to the happy times he found
Our likeness was uncanny and was becoming more profoundWe had so much in common - I couldn't believe how much alike,
That I decided to tag along, we continued on our hike
He said he's from all over and his name was just like mine,
And hoped one day that we would meet as he had a real short timeI was feeling sort of baffled, as we went on with our walk
But he had held my interest, so I listened as he talked
He said, I know you're hurting - as your life has been so hard
But it seems today that you found God, where once you'd disregardFrom the point that I was calling and was asking for God's hand,
Is the point where he had first appeared, as this was in God’s plan
He said to take more time for prayer - that I could bend God's ear
That He is always listening, and He is always nearGod knows about my struggles but better times will be ahead,
As long as I keep believing and will no longer be mislead.
We then turned onto a sidewalk and now very close to home,
And it was then it struck me that I was suddenly now alone.This stopped me in my tracks and I began to call his name
And it was then I understood, why to me that day he came.
I then realized God had heard me, as my Angel He then sent
To relieve me of my worries, and all my discontent.Today I pray more often and feel blessed with my God's Love
As He was there and listening - and sent an Angel from above...
did u enjoy..} My Poetry... it all me
..
I'd like to meet:
A Poem About How To Write A Poem
Please keep an open mind when reading this. I am not putting anyone down; I just sat down and wrote and this is what I got. However, I love the outcome and I hope you have an open enough mind to love it too.
............................................................
................................First you start out with a controversial topic (even if they're bad, you'll get more comments!),
Then you pick a really catchy phrase like: "Dear Diary, today I just want to vomit."
Surely it will "drag" them in and make them cling to your every words; you're hoping it would,
And then use really big words that confuse people; they'll give you a higher rating to act like they understood.Now, you'll probably be called a bit "emo" for having a "diary", but "Fcuk you!" you'll say!
(Then you'll pick up your "journal {or that's what [you] call it} and write about your "terrible" day;)
These people can't judge you because you write about them, right?
(You've got a lot more coming to you if you think that; you're pants might be a little [too] tight.)But after you've got your catchy phrase and controversial topic with a hint of cliche,
You'll need to dash in a bit of sarcasm to keep them hooked (kind of like the drugs you were on today).
But as you do all this, you need to remember to stay on topic while you tell them about it all;
And maybe you'll even make a few new friends that cut deeper than you; maybe now you won't fall.With your new friends -- the pen, the paper -- you'll cry to it, you've found,
But then as you pour your heart out and post it; the people will proceed to tear you down.
It's hard being a poet; you'll just have to be will to take that bound,
No matter how much you're teased, you're poetry willing always be around.Remember to start out with a good message and leave a crisp moral behind:
"There's more to life that sorrow and there is no button for rewind."
But you always have to start like you finished; with a really catchy phrase:"Don't let anyone tell you how to write; write your own way."
Music:
Why I write?
Why would I not?
A chance for all these thoughts,
To never be lost.For my words are my arrows,
my pen is my bow,
verses my armor,
metaphors - my throne.When I write,
I'm king over all I see,
What was once unreal,
Is now a breathing being.A thought becomes existent,
I can hold it, I can touch it,
I can share it with you all,
You can hate it, you can love it.
Books:
A poem for the hoodGangbang-n on my block,
thats all it ever is,i was born from seattle
they say da land of da hick,but us n the souf
put-n out our work,trying to survive,
selling CRACK and DOPE,familys always fight-n,
yelling at their kids,throw em out da house
and neva give a sh*t,incomes always low
making hardly doe,starving around da corner
asking for some rolls,den we got dem hoes
giving out their h*les,just for making cash,
spreading out they as*,mothers always crying
asking for da lord,give them warm and safety
and help them cuz they old,but life is getting old........
niggas being owed........leads to death and guilty,
that i swear no need for mo',drive-bys all da time,
babys born to die,this fuc*ed up society
dont care, its like we blind,HOOD is what we know
GANGS just killing souls,DRUGS is what is sold
AND CRIES WITH MANY MOANS......so pray to GOD to LIVE
WATCH out dont give in,we can make this life......
BUT BEST BELIEVE WE'LL ALWAYS STRIVE.............................Money Problems
I don't know why people love money
cause it causes nothing but problems,
They think they need it to be happy
so to get some they'll stand on limbs;
They'll mess you over to get it
I understand you need it to live,
When you have little, it hurts a bit
but when you have little, that's when your willing to give;
I think you learn so much more out of life
living the hard way,
Even though in your life there's nothing but strife
and in everything you hurt everyday;
But in the end your a strong person
cause you saw the dead-ends of livin',
Everything God gives you is a blessin'
and desperately you ask to be forgiven;
You try your best to come up
even though sometimes we do it the wrong way,
Cause instead of taking a step, you make a jump
but in the end we regret it everyday;
We tolerate so much pain
that we turn away from the Lord,
Its hard to see through the rain
so damn in my life it must of poured;
But the Lord got me by my hand
and helped me to my feet,
He helped me to understand
you got to make the dead-ends meet!
Heroes:
(Thanks mom and Dad)
Thanks for always being there
Hard times, easy times, Always,
A great life was given to me cause of you,
Nothing I ever say can say how much I love you for it,
Knowing right from wrong is something you taught me,
Soon I will be on my own and out of your house.
Mom don't worri I will always need you,
Of course when I leave things will be different,
More then ever I will still be near.
And dad I will always be your little Angel,
Now I know that I need you both more then ever,
Didn't want to admit it but its true.
Dad and you have given me a lot,
And I don't know how to ever repay you for all of it,
Don't ever think that i don't appreciate all that you have done because I do.
Thanks for everything and I love you
UR,Son Mr.Poetry
say hi to my bro and jenn@@@@@@@@@@R.I.P@@@@@@@@@@@@
