Home » Poems » Best » Dylan Foss » Best Dylan Foss Poems

Best Poems Written by Dylan Foss

Below are the all-time best Dylan Foss poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Don'T Take Life Too Seriously

Don’t take life too seriously
There really is no point
Running around ridiculously
To yourself you’ll disappoint

We are all just grains of sand in the hourglass of time
Our lives are all a song like a wind blowing through a chime
Days, nights, weeks, years all will come and go
Constantly moving forward, never will it slow

But some people view the race of life as a competition
To be better than all the rest is their only mission
But at the end of our lives nothing really matters
Except for the fun that we had and the happiness we’ve gathered

So do not worry and just relax
Take the weight of the world from off your backs
Go smile, laugh, and have fun instead
Let good warm thoughts fill your head

Do not be hard upon yourself
Do not worry about health or wealth
We all finish life at different times
Having different stories and different primes

Do not let anything hold you back
Do not let your world go black
Without being content with your life
Be happy and don’t give into strife

Don’t take life too seriously
There really is no point
Running around ridiculously
To yourself you’ll disappoint

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Social Darwinism

Elite on top; below fall the rest
Constantly competing for who is the best
Smartest, strongest, who’s the most cool
Society transforms you into a tool

Who’s the most popular; who’s got cool hair
When in reality the world does not care
Who’s got the best looks; who’s got the best grades
Who’s wearing the designer shades
Who’s the biggest; who’s the strongest
Who’s image will last the longest
Who’s the richest and who has all the toys
The hottest chicks get all the boys
The strongest men get all the girls
They flock to them with golden curls
If you’re not the best at something
You are no one and you mean nothing

Why is this the way society thinks?
Egos grow while others shrink
Those who are different are labeled “weird”
And their ideas are to be feared
The strong will last; the weak die out
With no one to hear them cry out
Everyone chasing the American Dream
But that dream is dead; too far downstream

Is this the way it has to be?
In society’s trap and never free?
When we are all humans one-in-the-same
Running through life and playing its game
For at the end there is no prize 
For how high in the ranks you rise
Everyone just fades away
Into the light of another day

So, I won’t be defined by society
Social Darwinism means nothing to me

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Slave

Go ahead, make me your slave
Cast my freedom; dig my grave
For my life is not my own
Nor are the seeds that I have sown

I am only a product of what's come before
I am nothing less and nothing more
I am only a product of how I was raised
Taught what to believe; how to behave 

Child turned perfectionist slave 
An abusive mind, I cannot be saved
Endless clock of unending work
Authority pulling my leash; every strangle, every jerk

There is no rest, there is no peace
Hope is useless; pain won't cease
Ambition gone; lost all feelings
Except for anger from wounds without healing

Continue this cycle without a purpose
Nobody cares, what's under the surface

So go ahead, make me your slave
Cast my freedom; dig my grave
For my life is not my own
Nor are the seeds that I have sown

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Everything Is a Cult

Schools are cults of intelligence

Sports are cults of athleticism

Families are a cult of similar genetics

Clubs are cults of interests

Bands are cults of music

Businesses are cults of greed

Governments are cults of power

Gangs are cults of inferiority

Art is a cult of creativity

Industry is a cult of logic

Friendships are cults of acceptance

Societies are cults of submission and assimilation

Religions are cults of beliefs

The outdoors is a cult of ecosystems

Living things are a cult of the earth

Discrimination is a cult of ignorance

Philosophy is a cult of deep thinkers

Meekness is a cult of peace

Violence is a cult of war

Hospitals are a cult of the ill

Suburbia is a cult of the middle class

Poetrysoup is a cult of poets

Everything in life is a cult, because people of similar interests or other various similarities find each other and worship what they have in common. People sub-categorize themselves. That is what the cult of mankind is all about.

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

A Torn Piece of Fabric

Two patterns of fabric weaved together
Interlocking and Interlaced
Joined in union as one piece of cloth
Complete in color, texture, and functionality

These two fabrics were joyful and complete
Holding onto one another with bonds tight and strong

"What would I ever do without you?" One said to the other. 
"Without you I am a single piece of fabric without a purpose or a function."

"This is true," said the other. "For without you I am flimsy and go without structure or support. I would surely fall upon myself and never be the same again."

Then on one fateful day
The two fabrics were pulled apart
Their bonds and binds broken by an unknown outside force
The division of the tear grew wider
Until the distance was so vast that they could not see one another

"Where have you gone?" They called out to each other. "I need you in order to be whole again!"
But neither could hear the other. The unknown outside force had created a distance too vast.

It was no use. 
The two fabrics wept for many days, 
Crying out for each other both day and night.

"Without you I am just a torn piece of fabric, floating with my torn strands brushing against the cold wind. Without you, I am incomplete and have lost all sense of function," They cried deep into the void, black night.

As they drifted in the wind,
Their distance growing greater by the day,
A Seamstress quickly readied her sewing needle and thread.

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Sitting By the Riverside

I walk down a trail off the beaten path
Contemplating life’s equations, trying to solve its math
I sit down by the riverside, the breeze blowing through my hair
I find rest on a slab of stone, using it as a chair

I sit alone in the woods and start to think out loud 
Sitting and admiring the woods, the sun, the clouds
I sit and question everything from life, to religion, and love
Searching hard for answers as I stare at the sky above
Time didn’t seem to move and only did stand still
Focusing on breathing, breathe out and then refill

It was in this moment, I found an epiphany
The answers run few and the questions run many
And you may never answer all the questions you may have 
But having a sense of purpose, this confusion it will salve
Having mine, peace is now the place where I reside
I found my peace on that day, sitting by the riverside

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

First Born Son

Doubts fill my head like a floating stream
I am pushing forward, but quickly running out of steam
Why am I doing what I’m doing? What even is the point?
As weariness pours over me, every bone and every joint 

I’m not the best at anything, even if I try
But I keep trying to be the best without a reason why
Every day I strive, searching for a new result
But nothing changes, I’m still the same 
Consistency’s insult
Insanity is the definition of my situation
Going forward through this life without an inspiration
Happiness and feelings gone, I am a robot now
As I continue to push on, wiping sweat from off my brow
Everyone holds me to high standards and prod me on along
Holding me on a short lease, control over-powering and strong 

But did you even care to ask me how this makes me feel?
You manipulate and use me; my pride is what you steal
I am not your prize for you to parade
I am not a pawn in your own little charade 
I can run my own life and do not need your help
Your constant expectations wearing thin upon myself
I don’t need to jump through hoops in order to impress
My future now may be a haze, but you don’t need obsess 
I know how to live my life without your consent
I know how to carry myself and don’t care if it makes you upset

Now let go of the reigns and give me back the wheel
I can handle my own life and I know how to feel
I may not be the man or son you wanted me to be
But you have to let go of control; you must let me be free
You cannot change my spirit or my personality
You cannot change my pessimistic mentality

I will only say this once and try to say it nice:

Let me be who I am and let me live my life.

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Help Me Help You

Help Me, Help You, Help Them, Help Us, Help Men, Help Women, Help Rich, Help Poor, Help Blacks, Help Whites, Help Asians, Help Latins, Help Europeans, Help Africans, Help Animals, Help Plants, Help Earth, Help Parents, Help Children, Help Young, Help Old, Help Disabled, Help Abused, Help Psychopaths, Help Criminals, Help Gays, Help Straights, Help Celebrities, Help Nations, Help Leaders, Help Followers, Help Government, Help Economies, Help Socials, Help Anti-Socials, Help Weird, 
                                       Help Normal, Help us all!

                              We all need help, so help one another.

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Serotonin

Dear Serotonin,

It's been many years since I've seen you last
Since you up and left me in the past
From then I've never been the same
And your absence from me is my shame

When you first left, I was a wreck
Life was a thorn in my side and a pain in my neck
On the verge of destruction and utter collapse
On a broken record of constant relapse

I didn't give up, and I sought help
Heading to recovery; a push, a pull, a skelp
I fought through and I was strong
And I'm still fighting this and pushing it along

I'm going through my days without drugs or medication
Getting by day-by-day holding onto motivation
All those drugs would make you come back worse
I am beating what you've done to me; undoing this whole curse

I could blame you, blame myself, or could just blame genetics
But making up any excuse just makes me look pathetic
I accept who I am and where I'm at in life
I will continue to fight you; nail and tooth and knife

No matter what you do to me, I will never go away
I can feel myself getting stronger with every passing day
You have finally met your match, the battle has begun
I will end this everlasting war, in my name it shall be won

                                                          Yours Truly,
                                                               Dylan Foss

Details | Dylan Foss Poem

Twiddle My Thumbs and Tap My Toes

Attention's gone
Doesn't seem like there's anything going on.

Sitting around
Trying to find something to fill this time I've found.

Frustrations show
I could've been more productive today, I know.

But instead
I think I'll spend the rest of the day in bed.

Who needs motivation when there's nothing else to do?

Where's the inspiration when there's nothing driving you?

I guess the lack of time my friend, is really not the issue.
It's figuring how to get the ball rolling to get to the things that will ensue.

In the midst of boredom;  I'm in its throes
I'll twiddle my fingers and tap my toes