Published September 1, 2011
*Warning! This ended up becoming more like a rap than a poem, so if the meter seems wrong, that's because I wrote this to be spoken out loud.
Your life's a liar,
giving heartless desire,
causing faker's emotion
and this raging commotion
full of hate's devotion
and passion's erosion
while I fall back and drown
in your heartless corruption.
You know, when I say hate,
I mean right now.
So get the fuck out
before I show you how.
'Cause If I see you,
I'll feel you.
If I feel you,
I'll hurt you,
again and again,
over and over
my friend.
Feel my pain?
Feel my rage?
Feel the hate
from this Sage?
Well, my story's not over
just turn the next page.
If I'm yelling,
I'm sorry.
I'm not angry,
just pissed
that you lied
to my face
like a creep
with the mace
in the face
of our race
which is dead
in the head
weighing us down
in the end.
Yes, I'm mad.
Yes, I'm bad.
Disappointed
and sad.
Yes, I ran
when you called,
laughed, when you bawled,
but cried as you fell,
further and further through Hell
and came back
to attack
my peace
with my piece,
with your lies
that won't die
no matter how
hard I try
'Cause they still defy
the logic,
the reason
for being
what's right
and what's wrong
what's here
and what's gone
is gone
and gone as gone
and although my story is non-existent
I can't beat around
the bush that is bound
to take me down
this guilt trip.
But why?
Because.
That's the reason?
Well, fuck it,
that's just busy being.
*A.N.: I'm gonna bet no one can figure out what pissed me off? Hah! Well, yeah, this is definitely angry, that's for sure. Anyway, just let me know what you thought, maybe share some things to fix if you feel like it. I don't really feel like returning to this one.
*Edited/added more.
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Poetry is inherently a spoken form of expression; all poems should be written to be read aloud, so your disclaimer strikes me as being quite odd.
This is the only rhyme in the entire piece that felt forced and stuck in there just-because, but boy was it way obvious. It completely jerked me out of the poem. Completely. Not only in the sense of flow, but also in the conceptual sense. You really need to fix that.
Now, there were a couple of lines where the rhythm suddenly changes and isn't consistent with the other lines around it. Sometimes it works, but for the most part, it really mucked up the flow. Especially the line "weighing us down". See if you can adjust things so that, even when the rhythm changes, the words flow smoothly. If you can, get someone else to read this to you aloud and take note of where they stumble: those are your problem flow areas, and they need fixing.
But overall, as far as emotions go, this was solidly written, and the short lines reinforce how angry the narrator is.
Very good. Keep on writing. Maybe make your sentences a bit longer. Farewell.
This reminds me of a lot of the Slam stuff I've read/heard over the years. A lot of Slam is rant--and this is a rant. And maybe that's all slam poetry has to be, but I'm left wanting more out of this--more of the story, more of the reason, more of the why-for beyond this flow of frustration. I'll go so far as to all this piece a Slam, but not a poem--not in trying to strictly define a poem, but in order to encourage you to expand this into a more complete, articulated experience and telling than a single stream of emotion.