Ms. Anger
She is dressed in an orangey red and glows with heat and distressed sins.
She whines and moans every time something seems wrong or unfair.
She pisses people off and messes things up.
She ruins and builds.
She is bipolar and loud.
She is anger.
Her red fiery dress blows in the wind and smacks against her six inch black stilettos, oozing with messy love affairs and stereotypical insults.
Her black hair goes with the wind, but not without a hard and lengthy fight. They argue and hit. They yell and scream. They are anger.
Her arms hang limply at her side.
Lifeless and pale.
They symbolize all the people that have been killed because of her...
Because of anger.
Anger's long money- colored nails stand for all the lies the government has let push brought their lips. The lies that have been spoon fed to society to gag their raging honesty and passion.
She is anger.
Ants Can Climb Up ANY Boot
We may be small,
And not that strong,
But at least we can tell,
What's right and wrong.
You walk this earth,
Acting like a god,
When you and the devil,
Are two peas in a pod.
You can laugh in our faces,
You can howl and hoot,
Because we're the ants,
And you're the boot.
But we have something,
You don't understand,
A power that drives us,
To fight hand in hand.
We've got love in our hearts,
And our heart leads our head,
And as long as we've got that,
We'll fight till we're dead.
Advice on Prose
Keep your fingers flying over the keyboard,
Keep your mind busy at work,
Never doubt your words and writing,
Write down every quirk.
Read other people's posts,
Don't just expect them to read your own,
Prose is so you can write AND read,
Just writing, you can do alone.
But Prose is not a lonely place,
Even if you think it so,
Don't compare yourself to other writers,
Be yourself, you'll know just where to go.
Marching Around the Clock
Drifting through life
Wasting time
It marches on around you
Leaving you behind
Once it's gone
You can't get it back
So live in the moment
Today can't be replaced
Your life will continue flowing
Until it's done
And then you've reached the end of the line
It's over, it's gone
And it won't come back
Freedom to be Ruled
Every day,
We get out of bed,
And it's the same routine,
Going through our head.
We go to work,
Or to school,
We do what they want,
We follow every rule.
Lies are whispered,
They go into our heads,
We believe we are free,
Because that's what they said.
Are we humans?
Or are we just dumb bears?
Because even if we aren't free,
No one ever cares.
Friends
The following poem is dedicated to some of my friends. Each verse is about a different one of them.
Lively, spritely,
Strength filled king,
A happy chappy,
Now where’s his things?
Grumbly humble,
Gives everything a go,
Whatever happens,
She goes with the flow.
Pitcher perfect,
Ready with a quip,
Goes up, goes down,
Regardless of a slip.
A bundle of muscles,
She never stops going,
Sugar rushes,
Keep her energy flowing.
Solves every puzzle,
He’s the tip of the top,
Sharing and caring,
He’ll never stop.
The next Michael Jackson,
He will be,
He’s kind to everyone,
His dancing you have to see.
Lively and full of questions,
And always ready to learn,
He tries new things every day,
Your respect he will soon earn.
Funny and bright,
A soccer player,
He’s energetic and fun,
And a great joke sayer.
The leader of leaders,
He towers above all,
With his British accent,
He gets up after a fall.
A basketball princess,
She smiles and tries,
She’s got grit through and through,
Even when she cries.
When I Was Younger
I look into the past,
What is it that I see?
A perfect little third grader,
The girl I never wanted to be.
She was so small and perfect,
And so very smart,
In fact her only flaw,
Was that she didn’t have a heart.
She lost friends so quickly,
Ones that had been hard to gain,
But the only reason they wanted her,
Was because of her brain.
She had no personality,
She painted serenity on her face,
She always sat properly,
She always knew her place.
Her friends were people she didn't trust,
And she knew they didn't trust her,
In the end they would leave, like everyone else,
And she'd have only a cat who wouldn't purr.
People still see her,
When they look at me,
Don’t they understand,
That’s not who I want to be!?
They think that I’m not humorous,
And that I always know what to do,
And I’m not perfect like they think,
Rules I’ve broken, are more than a few.
For some reason that’s how they view me,
As someone that I’m not,
They think I’ve never done anything bad,
But I’m clever, I’ve never been caught.
They think I’m not a friendly person,
They think I’m not a lover,
But always remember my favorite rule:
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.
Leaves in a Storm
Some may say that we are nothing more than specks of dust
And anything we do is insignificant.
We are not specks of dust,
Rather, we are leaves in a storm.
A storm of activity and goings-on,
A storm of chaos,
A storm of fate
That we are inexplicably caught up in.
But a leaf is much better
Than a speck of dust, wouldn't you agree?
I'd rather be a leaf than a speck of dust.