My Poems – all written by Matt Matson (me)





Tears



These tears, made of sorrow

Taking back the time that I borrow

Taking away my joy

And leaving me crying

Like a child without a toy

These emotions so unkind

Leading me into the world so blind

Why God why,

Must I cry these tears made of sorrow...



Bored

Boredom is my friend

It will not leave me

It follows me to the end

The end of time itself

What can I not see

That leads me to be

Bored...



Fear

Is it fear

Is it doubt

I need to get it out

It feeds upon my fears

Consuming my tears

Carve



I was left behind

I fell back into the dust

I was abandoned

Like a car made of rust

They gave up on me

They didn't even try

Such a sad thing

But I did not cry

Because I'm too full of pride

To show you how I feel inside

So I sit here alone

To carve my name in my headstone...



Wondering




Wondering

Where to go

Wondering

What to do

Wondering

What I’d be like

If I did not have you

Would I be full of fear

Would I be full of hate

Would I be full of disrespect

Or pride

If you saw me would you

Run and hide

I don’t know

I keep these thoughts inside

All locked up like something to hide

My emotions being the knot

To keep them tied

So I sit here wondering

What if I let these thoughts go free

I fear the fact that they would destroy me



Loving you


Loving you is easy for me

Loving you is what keeps me, me

Loving you keeps me free

Free from the shadows of my mind

For my mind is a dark place

I wish you never go there

I can not extend you an invite

For I do not wish to fill you with fright

So I am glad that

Loving you keeps me in the light

Some of your rhymes feel forced.

I agree.

Don't get me wrong. I love poetry. but for you...poetry is something you should avoid. or just dont force it out. Poems dont have to rhyme.

Yeah, well. D:

Sparing his feelings. Then I'll have the right later on to tell him he owes me a favour.

I've never liked poems that are half prose, half rhyming. D:

I never liked poems.

*shakes head*

No feelings.

Heartless son of a #####. =/

Poetry is The Language of the Heart.

I don't really care what others think of my poems I don't try to think of these poems I can't make myself write a poem. I just write down what comes to me, my emotions are constantly messed up. I'm not going to hate you if you dislike my poems, nor favor you if you do like my poems.

But anyway heres another poem:

Untitled poem

Part I: sorrow
Sometimes I want to die
So sad that me so young
has thoughts of death and suicide
So I cry
and I try to drown my depression
but my tears are like knives
tearing me apart
Part II: mututilated
sometimes I want to die
I try to hide it
and I always did so well
but not this time
you saw me as I am
scarred from tears
Part III: Regret
sometimes I want to die
Just as I had thought
Just as I had feared
you saw me as I am
but now your scared
but I didn't want to scare you
Part IV: Care
sometimes I want to die
but you mean too much to me
so now I'll try to hide
the best that I can
but now I can't hide
it's too late for me
for I've already died inside
Part V: Apologies
sometimes I want to die
and I'm sorry that I'm this way
I'm sorry that I've scared you
My Apologies for any dismay
I'm sorry I've shown you this side of me
I'm sorry I couldn't tell you
but it scares even me
Part VI: I'm still here
sometimes I want to die
but yet I'm still here
I'm here because of you
If I died today you'd be so sad
I can't do that to you
so I'm still here
here for you
Part VII: The End
sometimes I want to die
these thoughts will be the death of me
even thought I wish to die
by my own hand
but I can't
Do it for me
but thats too much to ask

Marked - Crap




Just playing :)

to emo bro, i love poetry but emo makes jesus cry

A Scotsman walks into a bar
To rest his aching bones
After traveling very far
Sitting at the counter he groans
Whiskey on the double
Downs it in one swig
Stood up, there would be trouble
Instead he does a jig
The other men stare in awe
At the man in the kilt
as he danced til he saw
One man whos beer was spilt
“you young man have much to learn”
If you wanna keep up with me
The mans stomach did churn
At the sight he did see
And no fight broke out
None of fist at least
There is of course no doubt
This is fight of beast
A contest of the drunk
who can drink more
down there bellies the whiskey sunk
til the young man hit the floor
The Scotsman stood, looked down
He picked up the poor man
And said with a large frown
You can drink more I know you can

"I want to die" boy: Your poems... suck.

NGC: Your poem needs to go in a book.

I dunno.... I just don't get them. I'm more of a story person. You people will be the first to know when my first-and not last- book is published.

^_^