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Best Poems Written by Leigh Trent

Below are the all-time best Leigh Trent poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Orange and Black

I am sounded
By everything,
Orange pumpkins
Candy everywhere
People in masks
Coming up to you, trying to scare you,
But they are the ones running away

Caring the colors of orange and black on me
Walking down the street,
Repeating the same words over and over 
"Trick or Treat"
And an occasional stern look
With the words "thanks...can I have some blood?"

I have colored contacts in, 
And fake fangs,
To frighten everyone
Or at least, that's what they think

What could they possibly see?
That scares them so badly?
A I continue to walk down the street,
Everything disappears
As I am submerged in darkness
Finally heading home
To an old, big, creepy house up the road, and around the corner
Where the real treat is!

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Terrifying Memories, No More

-I wake up and I'm cold
-My eyes began to open
-And my vision clears up
-I'm out side, in a forest
-Every things wet
-Like it rained
-But there's something different
-Its sticky
-Then I realize
-I am surrounded
-But there not moving
-Not one of them
-There isn't a sound in the sky
-Or a movement in the air
-The cool soft green moss
-Has been panted red
-Standing up and feeling wobbly
-I make my way around the lifeless armed bodys
-Lying on the red and green moss
-And take in my surroundings.
-As I look more carefully
-I notice more armored bodys
-And these are pined to trees
-Like ordamants haning  
-And a look of terror on all of them.
-I examine my body....
-Red splattered everywhere
-But not a single scrape
-Bump or bruze on me
-Then I realize
-The slightest taste of the red in my mouth,
-And my heart beets faster
-I look at my hands again
-Very shaky
-And no memories
-I say almost in a whisper
-"What have I done?!?"

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Being Gothic

-Most people
-When ever they hear Goth
-They think dark, devil worshipers, 
-Who is known to be a trouble maker
-But that's not the case
-Goth is a life stile 
-Its who you are.
-Being Goth is just something beautiful
-It means that we see things differently
-And tend to be more emotional than most
-But not always in the same way as others
-We love dark colors
-Aspeshialy black
-And in most peoples opinions
-We tend to have a darker aspect of the world
-And just life its self.
-But just because we look different 
-And act different 
-Doesn't mean we are evil
-Or anything like that......
-In my experience
-Goths are the nicesed 
-And most interesting people I've ever met.
-I love being Goth 
-And i would never change for anything

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Fantasy World Comes To Life

To souls intertwined within each other
To body’s appearing as one from afar
One extra-large heart shared equally between the two people.

As the moon light sparkles onto the lake next to where we lay
My head goes wild with all kinds of thoughts
About us and about are future together
Thinking of how close we are 
But yet so far away
And all the good times we will have.

You take my hand 
And pull me to my feet
Then you surprise me 
By picking me up and
Quite literally, thow me into the lake
Then you jump in with me 
And as we swim 
In this lake lit up 
By the full moon at the stroke of one
I realize I am already living the fantasy
My head has created. 
Because as long as I’m with you 
My fantasy IS my world,
Because of you,
My Beast Boy
Sean Cannon!

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

A Shattered Image

As I scrape off the mask 
To reveal what’s underneath
Blood starts dripping from my face and nails
Then one crack and a chip at a time 
I start to see what was hidden
And I’m horrified by it
Yet comforted all at the same time
It’s a vulgar sight
That is completely insulting
Yet somewhere deep down
I know this is who I am
And I like it.
I scrape at the mask more
Trying to get it off
I no longer shall hide from the world
If they don’t like it
They can deal with that on their own
Then the mask comes off completely
Scared of everything that I see
I bang my fist into the mirror
And watch it shatter to the floor
As all the microscopic pieces cut me 
I collapse on the floor
In pain and agony
Laying in a pool of sweet smelling red liquid 
Oozing from all the cuts
 Crying out with no one to hear!

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Paradox Riddle Poem

-I am neither girl nor boy
-But I take a female form
-I can be wise
-But not to smart
-I am seen
-But not understood
-I am week
-But powerful
-I am taken for granted
-But proven every day
-I am loved by many
-But alone
-I belong to no one 
-But many have me
-I feel free
-But I am a captive
-I am darkness
-But my light shines bright
-What am I?

-I am nothing more
-Than a confused person
-Whos fate has been twisted
-By this cruel world.

-Or perhaps
-The better answer would be
-There is no answer....

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Inks Destruction of a Promise

As I sit at the stroke of 3
In this lucubrator 
And watch the flame of the candle flicker,
I sort through scraps of your heart
On old crumpled paper,
And listen to the hebetude
Of your written words
Promising me
Everything.
I feel a tear drop
From the corner of my eye
And land on the paper
Smearing the useless promises of the ink.
I take a hand full of the promises
And hold it just above the flame,
Boutefeu upon it.
I see the ink bubble
And watch as the paper turn darker
Till finally
Its nothing but ash.
As I burn the pile full of
Promises and dreams,
Written down for all to see…,
I also burn you 
And everything you were to me.
For you were all a lie!



Lucubrator- a person who studies by night, or by candlelight.
Hebetude- dullness; bluntness; obtuseness; want of discernment.
Boutefeu- is a French word, and literally means “to set fire.”

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Changing

-I'm sorry for the way I've been
-I know it's not ok 
-I'm trying to change
-But the thing is.....
-I'm not sure how
-I see how it hurts you
-And I kills me to know that
-Seeing the hurt in your eye
-Makes me feel like 
-A truly horrible person
-And it sickens me to the core.
-You hate me saying 
-"I'm sorry" all the time
-But I	don't	know what else to 
say
-I feel I always have a lot 
-To be sorry for,
-But you hate it
-Even though 
-It's in my nature
-I'm trying,
-I'm trying for you.
-I make you mad sometimes
-With me just being me,
-Or saying the wrong thing
-When I ment something else
-Just know...
-Yes I am trying to change
-So even though you hate it...
-I'm sorry....
-For everything.
-I truly love you!

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

Who I Am

I’m trapped
But not in the normal sense,
My minds trapped
In this body.
Everyone calls me a girl
Because that’s what my body portrays me as
But that’s not the case
Yes…I’m in a girl body
But I’m actually a boy
To be more precise…
I’m an F.T.M.,
Female to male transgendered.
I was born this way
And it’s actually natural
It’s not a defect
Or anything like that
It’s just who I am
I can’t change the fact 
That I’m a guy
I just deal with the girl body
And accept who I am
I know that it’s weird
And probably hard to accept
And to wrap your head around
But all I ask is to try
And to not judge me
If at all possible.
This is who I am…
I’m an F.T.M.,
And I’m proud of it!

Details | Leigh Trent Poem

The Unknown Story

-Coming our to the parking lot
-A girl runs up to me
-I've seen her talking to others,
-Before they drove off
-Thinking she's just trying to play them
-And before she says anything
-i can already tell her story is true
-Shea been threw a lot
-Her mom was raped right in front of her
-When she was only 4
-They struggled to make bills and ended up
-living under a bridge
-And now at 6
-She runs for help,
-Because her mom, dad, and her 2 year old brother
-are now dead
-And she doesn't know what to do
-She's been alone for the last week
-Trying to fend for herself.
-I can see the images in her dark green eyes
-So clearly
-as if they were my own thoughts.
-I ask her to get in my car
-And ill take her to a place that will help
-but she refuses in fear of people.
-All she wanted was a little food
-And even though she's so week she can hardly stand
-She walks away unknowing what to do
-Tears streaming down her dert covered face.
-Know one will ever know the story
-of the girl who lived under the bridge.