Some poems

[Azadistan-land of the free]

They shall not grow old
As we grow old and die in time
Times not there's but
Courage is and was and shall be
Inshallah
Mash Allah
Ameen

[Stiltball]

i put your poem into a translator - and it spat out your poem in arabic


لا يجوز لهم أن يكبروا
ونحن كبرنا ونموت في الوقت المناسب
الأوقات ليست هناك
الشجاعة كانت وستظل
إن شاء الله
هريس الله
أمين
la yajuz lahum 'an yakbaruu
wanahn kabarna wanamut fi alwaqt almunasib
al'awqat laysat hunak
alshajaeat kanat wasatuzilu
'in sha' allh
hrys allah
'amin

[New Excalibus]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
The war is upon us
Uncle Sam wants you

[Democratic Exodian Territories]

A once-proud baron, locked outside his own manor
how he weeps
how he weeps

He had conquered foreign lands
Under the blade of his sword
He had struggled through all manners of war, foul swamps, freezing mountains, flaming hell
Only his sword at his side

His mission is complete, victory has been secured
He gave up the blade, in the name of peace, God, and his king's honor
He returns to his manor, proud and happy

But alas
alas
He had lost his key in a foreign land

how he weeps
how he weeps

This was a poem about me losing my computer mouse at the start of summer vacation.

[Stiltball]

I like it

/skip/

[Hazarid]

Riders of the plains,
Shall you not see what you had stepped on.
For there is nothing for you to worry,
As long as your sword streaks the sun.

Never will you let go of your sword,
To which it contains your feelings and your decisions.
You must trust your horse,for without it,
This plain is not yours to explore

Don the brightest and lightest armor,
And carry the sharpest sword.
Ride the fastest horse,
And meet the most terrible enemy

Never had I wished to stop exploring this,
For I am now,with the lightest armor,sharpest sword,fastest horse and the most terrible enemy,

Had stepped on the plains before me

[The Sakhalinsk Empire]

Not the best poem, but I feel there were some true emotions in this one. Not emotions like love or happiness, but pure weariness/

I simply cannot explain in words
The length of the past six hours
I have seen the flights of all the birds
And the lowest houses next to the tallest towers

While all this time the others slept
I have seen the winners and those that wept
And all the people that have been swept
Away by winds blown by the adept

This is a marathon done with a car
Crossing native peoples and lands afar
With tired eyes and a dying soul
What I admired was a flying stone

Thrown by a boy that lived on the street
That lived a life, it made me prostrate at his feet
What I lacked this time was a meet-and-greet
With a couple friends I could keep

[Destructive Government Economic System]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
The war is upon us
Uncle Sam wants you

Roses are red,

That part is true,

But violets are purple,

Not fucking blue.

-The Great Uniter and Beast of the DGES, informally quoting (and agreeing with) the endless amount of memes that have been created to make fun of the official poem itself.

^Taken directly from another thread I posted in, and it's not even a poem I made, but memes, y'know.

Poetry is like cancer,

Wish to know the answer?

The confusing words of poetry,

Will make your head squeal.

And the pain will be surreal,

Because said pain is oh so unreal.

And the only way,

To get rid of this pain,

Is to shave the very mane,

Of your head, also known as:

Your hair,

Just like using a peeler on the skin,

Of a pear.

And because of this,

Your hair will be gone,

And you will be bald,

Just like a cancer patient.

-The Great Uniter and Beast of the DGES, wondering why he is using poetry to make fun of poetry itself.

This is one I made. Crap poem, but Shakespeare gave me enough stress to make it anyways. Trolling not intended, only jest.

[MayaGreenNation]

If only I pronounce body Butters,
It comes into my mind
That my soul flutters
And desperately seeking for a chance to find..