Random poetry

To preface this large post, fuck poetry.com they're a bunch of scam-artist fucks.

Also, all of this is early poetry, so try not to think too lowly of it, all of it was written between 12 and 16 years of age.

Anger
All those things,
You said to me,
All the hate,
I felt set free,
Sitting here,
Snarling teeth,
Staring blankly,
With bloody jeans,
I sit and cry,
About those times,
As the tears fall,
Into the red,
I know it would happen,
The same way again.

Enigmatic
Soon the slate will be scraped clean,
None will see the light of life,
For blind they will be,
To be able to see,
The light that is,
The Enigma,
Around the mystery,
Sitting next to the conundrum,
That blankets those who are worthy.

Her
She brings that feeling,
That feeling of bliss,
She knows I hate to say it,
That odd word kiss,
She brings out my oddities,
And some of the rest,
She makes me feel comfortable,
Not like I'm undressed,
I feel a thing,
Down deep in my gut,
She says I have talent,
Not just a shear lust,
So I write this for her,
She knows who she is,
And I want her to know,
I can say "kiss".

Loving Another
I yearn to love you, but locked in a cage,
Is your heart, your heart so tender, sweet,
And kind, I wish for all, but none abide,
I wish to see you inside out, but all is
Held, in a box of black, my mind, your
Heart, they seem to say...
"We do not love, but will never part..."

Confusion
All of the questions,
Hit me at once,
I look for the proof,
But there isn't enough.

I sleep with a tissue,
To catch my tears,
And even that memory,
Carries my fears,

The loss of the life,
I feel I've earned,
Makes me feel empty,
And I know inside . . .

Confusion will follow.

True Sadness
I thought I was tough,
I said I wouldn't cry,
It's funny about the pain,
You feel when someone dies.

I talked the same,
And stood there again,
But outside I couldn't hide,
How I really felt inside.

As the tears streamed down,
I let out no sob,
Not a whimper or a sniffle,
But still I cry.

I hate the sadness,
That certain things bring,
But I will stay strong,
For the memory of him.

The Sun Mist
The breeze that fills your elegant hair,
The glittering drops of gods tears,
The sun looks down upon your soul,
And seems to say "Hello!"

You look at the clouds, that bring the mist,
And left in the puddles,
You link the grist,
In that day, you saw a life, a life of yours,
In a forgein kind.

You run from the mist and sooth the sun,
You take the grist from all above,
The things that lasted took away,
And the you take a bath...

From the Sun's Mist.

So those are some of my early poems, hope you enjoy.