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Best Carl Rankin Poems

Below are the all-time best Carl Rankin poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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CONFIDENCE


                                                 CONFIDENCE

                          The world is full of people trying to stand out.
                             But they don’t realize that they already do.
                          They try so hard to figure what life’s all about.
                      With all their piercings, Crazy hair, and fresh tattoos.
                           They miss out because of the worry they feel.
                         Will they approve of the way I dress, think, or act?
                           In the spotlight a few moments they might steal.
                    But some of the stupid things they do can’t be taken back.
                           I have a secret that only the few wise ones know.
                              Love who you are and forget what they think.
                             And all the good things in life will soon follow.
                              And you shall rise above all as the critics sink.
                                So meet the world with you head held high.
                                  Let them see the beauty that is in you.
                              Let them see your happiness and joy inside.
                   And know that nobody needs to love you more than you do.


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Sadness

Here I am, alone again
Darkness and silence, my only friends.
Indecision and confusion, yea they’re here too. 
With great advice on what to do.
Pain is present, and accounted for.
Along with misery. Who could want more?
I have all these friends that never make a sound.
Yet they scream inside my head, on the stage they have found.
I have asked them to leave, but the rent is paid in full.
And so now I’m the puppet, with strings that get pulled.
Oh how I wish I could cut the strings tied to my heart.
To be carefree once again, and to have a new start.
They say time heals, and I know that it’s true.
But the scars shall remain this steady constant proof.
But hey I’m tuff and I can swallow what I feel.
I can push it away, or pretend it isn’t real.
I’m a survivor, and I can weather the storm,
And I can deal with travesty, regardless of its form.
So once again I set out 
I trust in myself, for I have no doubt.
That the sun shall rise and greet my face
It’ll dry my tears, and it’ll set my pace.
Though my days I shall run 
Until my living days are done.
But still I hope, and still I pray 
That I could at least brighten someone else’s day.
And though with words I try to express
What it is I feel. It’s just sadness.  
 
By:  Carl Preston Rankin III


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Holly

                                              Holly

As I look deep into her eyes. I see the love waiting there.
Like the most beautiful sunrise. It warms my soul and removes the chill from the air.
She lifts my spirits with just a simple smile. She heals my heart with her warm embrace.
She helps me forget my worries for a while. She does all this with her style and grace.
All too often I let the world get me down. She seems to share all the pain I feel inside.
It breaks her heart to see me frown. She’s the only one whom I can confide.
She found me in the dark. She led me to the light.
When my world was torn apart, she held me so tight.
She is my Reason 
She is my Purpose 
She is my Life.
In fond dedication to my wife Holly ^^


Details | Carl Rankin Poem

MY WICKED WITCH

MY WICKED WITCH!

Over the howling wind on a brisk October night, when a sickly yellow moon shimmers high in the autumn sky, you can hear her moan in twisted delight as she casts her evil spells and prepares to fly. Upon her trusted steed made of wood and straw, she grips ever so tightly with her gruesome claw. You can see her blackened grin from cheek to cheek; resemble tiny knives rather than teeth. Her eyes burn red filled with loathing and hate. But don’t you dare look at her and tempt your fate. She can look deep within your sole and find your fears. She’ll make you scream till you run out of tears. And when you think the worst has come to pass. She’ll drain your youth and turn you to glass. High on an oak shelf you’ll go… still alive. Still able to whatch her next show

HAPPY HALLOWEEN