Most Discussed Free Verse Poems

i asked my father if i could swim, and he said that i would drown. The Sea would imprison me – he said if my feet had left the ground. So i walked out to the water, and cried out – how ’bout now! He said, a little bit further, Son,... (more »)

Books fill up my room. Not baseball cards, or pictures of girls, or basketballs. Maybe a blown up picture of … … Pam Anderson might help. Black-framed glasses and a white, pale, lanky body. I should start working out. At least... (more »)

And I remember she wouldn’t wake up. Her lips were mushed together in a Horrible shade of red They buried my mother in a white dress And red lips. And she couldn’t see. Where are your glasses, Mommy? And still at sixteen I bring them to... (more »)

Her skin, butter-cream by day, turns translucent by night. Her hair, ebony black, shimmers like the night sky But only to deceive those she encounters Her lips, stained crimson from her victims Eyes piercing blue, penetrating those who make... (more »)

From this point forward I will not stand to be unhappy any longer. I will not stand to be broken down, broken apart, broken-hearted. From this point forward my success does not depend on my waistline and my strength does not depend... (more »)

I take back my tears the wasted years I spent crying for what never could happen I take back my heart my shattered heart Up off the ground and back in my arms I take back my hope wasted on you and toss it aside for it has no meaning... (more »)

It is a new nation, a nation that proudly proclaims: “Yes we can.” But what power holds “yes we can,” when America has told many of our brothers and sisters “no, you cannot”? You cannot follow your heart. You cannot move... (more »)

When I am dead, my dearest, don’t stick my bones together with Scotch tape. Do not try to fit them underneath a frame. Use them, one by one, as a weapon, a gavel. My bones, they can be good back scratchers, honey mixers, and hands of... (more »)

Carolyn says she believes in angels while mascara spiders creep thickly along the heavy baggage beneath her eyes like the black pitch of the school hallways at night or the charcoal that she dips her fingernails in and I remember cheating on... (more »)

Your butchering words In the beginning Went through my head As a child who listens To every word you say Your constant sarcasm Your words which I thought were the truth The never giving up Just to let you know, Dad Those butchering... (more »)