A short poem may be a stylistic choice or it may be that you have said what you intended to say in a more concise way. Either way, they differ stylistically from a long poem in that there tends to be more care in word choice. Since there are fewer words people tend to spend more time on choosing a word that fits the subject to perfection. Because of this meticulous attitude, writing a short poem is often more tedious than writing a long poem.
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I come with no wrapping or pretty pink bows.
I am who I am, from my head to my toes.
I tend to get loud when speaking my mind.
Even a little crazy some of the time.
I love this poem! People are always trying to fit in and be normal. I've always disregarded being "normal." What's the point? Why would I be someone I am not? I am perfectly happy the way I...
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Forever we remain oblivious to the future,
lost to the past and enduring our torture.
Forever we take chances to settle our scores,
losing some battles and winning some wars.
Very Inspiring and motivational. You can do anything you put your mind to. Keep having HEART!
Simple Sam was a simple man.
He lived each day by a simple plan.
Enjoy your life and live while you can.
Make each day count and take a stand.
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Someday you will cry for me
Like I cried for you.
Someday you'll miss me
Like I missed you.
This poem says it all. I’m moved beyond words. You have said what is in my heart. I wish one day someone will notice that I’m grieving inside.
To those whom I've fought with
and to those I don't know your name,
we fought by one another.
You did not die in vain.
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
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In all chaotic beauty lies a wounded work of art.
Beautiful but torn, wreaking havoc on my heart.
Camouflaged by insecurities, blinded by it all.
I love the way you sit there and barely notice me at all.
With death being the only certainty of life, life is just a bit too short for regrets.
Let's live while we're alive.
Let's love while we're alive.
Let's live and not just survive.
Tiny little secrets
Get buried in the dirt,
And if they were dug up,
Someone would probably get hurt,
I don’t know if that’s true, because sometimes it's better to hide the hurtful secrets because the world these days will probably laugh at you then do nothing for a few days then decide...
What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow;
What are brief? Today and tomorrow;
What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth;
What are deep? The ocean and truth.
It’s pure perfection, this poem. It couldn't have been said any better and yet be any more poetic and precise. Beautiful.
This poem shall stand the test of time,
For it's got so much...
Love is like a bicycle
Left out in the storm
If it's not protected
Rust begins to form
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