I like poems about heartbreak. Don't know why. Here's one I wrote last year: A REVOLUTION INSIDE ME An urge to relax sat me on a park bench two paces from a dead tree. In my mundane state, I lean back to watch the kids skate. This visual stimuli... beautiful chaos of them and I. A breeze came across me, so I turn to face its pampering with my eyes shut lightly, I feel nature's generosity. A bicycle bell rang on, then I looked in its direction. Absorbing the fragrant aforementioned, I looked beyond the ringing bell and noticed a lovely couple sharing their hand. I take it all in under one breath; the birds, the bees, the trees then pain and pressure in that visual tease. The affectionate, my woman... with another man before me. Not based on anything I've experienced. More of a preparation I guess.

I like to write things that other people can relate to, that arent too specific or personal to me or my life. So, I kind of end up writing about another character or someone. That way, people tend to understand it better.

I write lots of Funny doggeral or things that pop into my mind about how i feel when I am driving . I also write a lot of Things on my thoughts and feelings;I have books going back to when I was about 12 years old.

I write about a lot of personal things...but not explicitly...I like my poetry to be a little ambiguous but not so much that you can't figure out what I mean. For me it's an outlet...my emotions come out on the page...sometimes I don't even know what I'm writing. If you're on facebook, I have some of it posted there.

both. usually its about personal things though, or about others. My poems vary a lot though. Here are a couple of contrasting ones. A lot of mine are written in song-ish style too... I see her sitting there, head held in her hands left alone with her despair caught up in demands trying to forget what happened Trying to change what will be I see the fire in her eyes burning the past to ashes burning the past to ashes, and she won't even look at me Some of have scars we don't want to show some of us have secrets no one will ever know some of us find it safer to hide here in ourselves Some of us can not seem to escape this hell Burning our past to ashes, with each and every fire we find Burning our past to ashes, But we cant destroy our minds Memories still linger, scorched, but there the same Memories still linger, getting stronger, will never fade Some of have scars we don't want to show some of us have secrets no one will ever know some of us find it safer to hide here in ourselves Some of us can not seem to escape this hell Burning the past to ashes, We can never succeed burning the past to ashes but the attempts never cease. Burning the past to ashes and she won't even look at me and she won't even look at me ---- I hear the thunder rumble loud the rain starts to fall all around The clouds turn dark the lightning strikes darkness falls once again but as I look up searching for something in the dark sky above I notice something stark against the clouds so very dark a silver lining I'd never seen before hidden from the unobservant eye it adds a certain elegance to the sky reflecting in the raindrops as they fall oh the rain now smells so nice no longer a nuisance as it falls it is cleansing me leaving my thoughts so clear helping me with all thats dear and special to me

I write about whatever strikes me to write about. I think a lot of the time, my emotions are too big to put into poetry, and if I try, I get lost in the feelings, as apposed to paying any attention at all to the WORDS and it turns out to be crap. I think it's usually hit or miss with me. They either turn out great when I'm in a good state to write, or they turn out embarassingly terrible. But of course, I keep at it. Cause when i'm good, i'm GOOD, and I know that.

i can't exactly figure out what it's about

I write mostly personal things. Here's a poem that as of yet doesn't have a title: The sky cracked open, And a hand came through and parted the sea. I walked through the opening, And found nothing I’d been looking for. As I began to turn back, The walls of water started to crash in all around me, A cold, crystal clear shroud swallowing me whole. I drowned in this sea, And I saw the hand draw away as I reached out, And I cried out, and heard nothing. I closed my eyes, and told myself it didn’t matter. I was alone, the blue ocean and myself becoming one. And I told myself, as the color around me faded, “Nothing can stop me now.”

i write alot of personal poems..but its always fun to write a random one about a apple or something