who else here writes ryming poems

[captain anarchy]

i write poetry. all of it rymes. my writing is real morbid.

[Pete]

I have morbid poems, they do not rhyme on purpose though.

[captain anarchy]

i write alot of poetry. all of it has to do with mental pain. self hatered, suicide, drugs. stuff like that. it is real fucking twisted. here is one about my child hood in school. it's called school day.

childhood memories aren't always sweet.
mine are of the days when i would get beat.
thrown into chairs and the teachers glares.
i was so passive.
the amounts of abuse were massive.
everyday i would get beat.
i'd get choked then torn from my seat.
it all started when i stuck up for a friend.
i thought it would put his abuse to an end.
it put scars in my head.
and when i told no one believed what i said.

[Purple]

i write poetry too, but quite depressing, dough... cant help it...

[Pete]

Here are some rhymes. A song. Called:

Shades of Joy

Sipping on the sorrows of yesterday
A new dawn, a new gun, a time to play
I'm just sipping on the sorrows of yesterday
With a new dawn, a new gun, it's time to play

Walking around the winding roads
Stepping over a bloody rose
Silence, rising from my gut
The dark eye starts to shut

Frequenting the days long lost
Slowly wandering through the dusk
Dark clouds rising overhead
A flash of light, a child is dead

Forks bloth down filled with rage
Striking the lamb within a cage
Forceful shakings lift the ground
A muted scream is the only sound

Apart from life; Apart from death
We stand between in the ultimate test
A shattered whisper fills the air
Eyes locked forward embracing the stare

A knife protrudes from her chest
One blade, one lust, she failed the test
Laying in a pool of crimson gold
The body is limp; the spirit is cold

Forcefully slashing down
He knew he'd never make it out of town
Sacraficing his only worth
Burning up in the hearth

Old dreams, new lies, falcons soar in the skies
Arrows flying up, piercing it so high
With a screet its dance is over
A cloaked dagger returns to its cover

Amid all the senseless death
A baby wakens and takes its first breath
Only to see its mother die
This child has no time to cry

Sipping on the sorrows of yesterday
A new dawn, a new gun, a time to play
I'm just sipping on the sorrows of yesterday
With a new dawn, a new gun, it's time to play

[Hampton]

It's missing something........................ah I know, a donkey's dick.