Relatable Poem Novels & Stories

A light too blinding, a fire too high, Yet I kneel, yet I pray, yet I burn alive. Flesh and bone, yet something more, A voice that binds, a touch ignored. Untouchable fate, unshaken throne, And yet I long to call you my own. I exhaled through my nose again, rubbing my temple. Of course, it's wonderful. I'd never read poetry so well written. Of fucking course. I refolded the paper and tucked it back where I found it. I wasn't mad. I wasn't even surprised. Just... I don't know.

My heart started to beat fast in my chest. How many times had she seen us at our worst? How much had we hurt her without even realizing it? Feeling overwhelmed, I turned to the next page and found a short poem scribbled in her neat handwriting. It was about stars, rivers, and memories. Reading her words, I felt a sense of peace and calm wash over me. It was as if Val was speaking to me through her poetry, reminding me of the beauty and wonder of life.

You tried to dull my shine But my light is Undimmable. I am me, unapologetically You thought you would forget me, But guess what? I’m unforgettable. You tried to replace me. My love is Unreplaceable. Now you want to relate to my pain But you and I are Unrelatable. Don’t you know- I am me, unapologetically You wanted to change me. I’m un-customizable. You wanted to mold me, My intellect is Untouchable. You wanted to shape me, For you, my spirit is

He replied, emphatically, as if it were obvious " But with the tip turned and the holes facing upwards, see if you can! “Oh, that's it. But what's up, grandpa? ' asked a cousin, looking forward to the final act. Then he would straighten up in his chair, in that posture of a patriarch laden with wisdom, run his finger over each end of his mustache, letting a subtle smile escape in the corner, and answer. "And then the rain fell and the beast drowned! Drowned!" *** This poem, on the other hand, was born in a matter of five minutes, when a guy I met at a fifteen-year-old party broke up with me via SMS. At the time, it was a frill. Today, I just laugh at the situation.

She described her thoughts on it in relation to nature and destruction and decided to share another piece of hers she was proud of. She turned her laptop to face Remus and he read the poem. Degradation Filthy, but, yet alive The dust rises around Growing and spreading Like parasites clinging to what little there is The dust rises around Its legs dug into the ground Like parasites clinging to what little there is Sucking the life force around them Its legs dug into the ground The roots spread out deep below Sucking the life force around them Leaving nothing behind The roots spread out deep below Running its lines and taking over Leaving nothing behind

To stand apart, in my own right, To bask in my own simple light. But until then, I linger here, A shadow filled with silent tears.” I gasped, and sat up from the bed. Tears streamed down my face. At first was afraid, wondering where I was but then slowly what happened last night started to come back to me. That poem was shit! What the fuck is my subconscious doing by feeding me poetry like I don't already know my life is dim and useless.

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"Hello, everyone. I am Jeremy Davis, Lily's boyfriend. She asked me to read the following poem that she wrote on her behalf. When the days are like morning and childhood sings, I will remember how your cell phone rings, When moments seem fleeting, and I still believe you'll always be there, Who are you? You are my mom, You won't get to see me preparing for prom, But you will forever, always be mom, When the skies become the night, The morning sun will show its light, I've found the wings of a sparrow that you will soon wear, It's hard to see you when to me, your soul is everywhere, When I miss your camera making a click, The annoyance of saying 'cheese' made me tick,

And so, with just the slightest twinge of conscience, I hunted for my lonely ecstasy; And even when I wanted a companion, The only one I cared about was me. We make our worlds, like God, in our own image: Mine was a metropolis of stone In which all souls were either fools or cynics, Doomed to take their pleasure on their own. And then I fell in love with you, and somehow Your happiness meant more to me than mine. The desert became green and lush with flowers, And like a sun my heart began to shine." As he finished, his gorgeous woman combined her lips with the warm skin of his forehead. "This is wonderful, Damien. And I must agree, it does sound familiar with your life's journey. Like Mr. Go

(Your favorite holiday) _________ is as joyful as the mourning of those who got lost. Yes, this poem is ironic and it sounds weird. But I know that I (name an extraordinary talent/skill where you're the only person who knows) ________. With this extravagance, I adore the (first impressive thing you see at your left)________. So hey! the (name the smallest thing you can find in your house/room at this moment)__________ is just like a painting of my willpower. Mostly drained but charging for more determination. the (the first circular shape that you could find) __________ is your foundation in building yourself.