BYC Poetry Club!

This is me,
You might think I'm strange.
Want me to change?
I like this me.
This is my personality.
I don't think I have to change,
I want to stay strange.
This is who I am,
Even though I'm not the same,
I will grow to be more tame.
But for now,
It's not fun to be lame.
 
Somewhere in the world.
People will understand you.
Somewhere in the world.
You'll be the true you.
I like you the way you are.
You make the world go 'round.
To me, you're the perfect friend.


Where the green grass grows.
And the sky is always blue.
I will find you.
We will see each other again.
We will never be apart.
Someday, my dream might come true.


The first poem is about my best friend, the one that moved away.
The second one is dedicated to my cousin, who died of a brain tumor.
 
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Somewhere in the world.
People will understand you.
Somewhere in the world.
You'll be the true you.
I like you the way you are.
You make the world go 'round.
To me, you're the perfect friend.


Where the green grass grows.
And the sky is always blue.
I will find you.
We will see each other again.
We will never be apart.
Someday, my dream might come true.


The first poem is about my best friend, the one that moved away.
The second one is dedicated to my cousin, who died of a brain tumor.

Your poems are depressing and make me sad, but the poems are VERY good though! Just as long as poet makes their mood and tone across they are great poems which you did
successfully.
 
Oh, thanks. That really makes me feel good, to know my poems are depressing. I don't see how they are depressing. I like them. If you think they're depressing, just don't read them. Anyways, I write what I feel.

Across the wide and lonesome prairie.
Soars the eagle, proud and high.
He doesn't care, what other people think.
Nothing can stop him, he is invincible.
The urge to fly is irresistible.
 
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(Here's an older poem I wrote.)


The Spirit of a Wolf
In the prowess of the untamed wild
Dancing in the once cold world's embrace
On a night so lonely and desolate
With a song so mournful and drear

His golden eyes shining with the light
Of past days and nights of the boisterous hunt
Wolves of red, of gray, of time-left dire
An ancient beat to their flying steps

His pelt flowing with the autumn shadows
Wisdom built on many days of yesteryears
Paw steps heard by only those who will listen
To a faint call that runs with the pack

A world so cold to a man's gentled touch
A song that serenades only the dying day as it ends
A spirit that spins the nature of imagination
And a heart that will never belong to another
THIS IS AMAZING.
 
I will not feel sorrow,
I will not worry for tomorrow,
For the events of tomorrow will come,
Whether you worry for them or not.
I've fought,
Over the worries I have got,
I make a sneaky plot,
To help me get forget,
About the worries I have.
I will think of good things,
Like my chickens flying with there wings,
I will not think of bad things,
For there is no use,
No excuse,
For worrying about tomorrow.
 
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