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Violence Lyric Poems | Violence Poems About Lyric

These Violence Lyric poems are examples of Violence poems about Lyric. These are the best examples of Violence Lyric poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |


You know why I run game? It's 'cause I'm a player
I'm the night in shining armor, she's a dragon, I'm gon' slay her
That means when I beat it up, I'm gonna kill it
Tell her keep our business to herself, don't spill it
Can't follow directions, then it's on to the next
Hope you get the message, not talking 'bout a text

I sleep with more chicks than a night-gown

Without 'em I'm like a sentence with no noun

For those who don't know that means incomplete

It's a race to get 'em first, I gotta' compete

They wanna be on the team, tryin' to make the cut

True player, show no feelings, keep 'em in a shell, walnut

Females fill my atmosphere, they mean the world to me

I got damsels galore, it's always plural with me

Got gangs of chicks, which one should I bang

They're steady in my face, sort of like some bangs

Hate when they try to lock me down, I'm not in jail

She starts talking 'bout marriage, then I'm gonna bail

Sometimes I need my space, like a vacant lot

I hate being congested, like a nose filled with snot

Hey, stop bugging me, you startin' to act like a knat

Before you go, give me head, I need it like a hat

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


The society is broken
With a lot of pain and sadness
Cries of mothers to their children
Can't understand the dynamics of the society
Looking for peace in a torn white flag
Hypocrites leading, yet destroying our hope
We share the same Earth
Though blood spills on it
Rumors of war been heard far and near
Can this continue for long?
Look into the mirror 
You'll see our future is broken
Our young children practicing sex
As if its a must to embrace their peers
Look at how life goes on without scolding the wrongs
Abortion the protocol of the day
Lets not live to our consequences
Let the violence seize
It starts with you and me
Lets stop burying in the cemetery
How many more will be sacrificed?
For the worse?
Think about it and speak your mind
    No more violence.

Copyright © ENOCK SANG | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


I can hear the wicked shots rangin',
Hood stars on the avenues hangin',
You hear the sounds of the ghetto
and loose change in B.U.Ms[brothers under madness]
metal cups clangin',

That poverty noise is 1 of the hood anthems,
Bailbondsmen collectin' hood ransoms,
and crooked police we can't stand'em,

And we're fed up with continuous violence,
All the dark clothes reunions
Too many moments of silence,

And R.I.Ps are another ghetto sound,
It doesn't matter if you're
We need to put the metal down,

The penitentiaries call some in elementary,
They don't know at a young age & eventually,
End up locked down where jailed sinners be,

I've been a witness to many gun tunes,
They're gettin' shot on the spot
No more meetin' up at high noon,
Death hits the community like a typhoon,

The devil's the evil artist to start this,
He has them tryin' to prove 
whose hood is the hardest,
While innocent bystanders
are like movin' targets,

So I shed a tear for some better years,
This world is cursed
So I write a verse for every hearse
until my ears & my head is clear.

Copyright © louis brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |


No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards

It's a dirty world, but my heat's considered hand sanitizer

Made my dreams become reality, I'm not a big 'fanisizer'

My trap got cheese, but I'm trying to keep away rats

Life's a gamble, take a chance, like playing craps

Time to take you to school, and money's the topic

Smokin' on Jamaica helps me focus, I keep something tropic

Cash rules everything 'round me and it's in my pocket

That means I'm in control, if this was a plane, I'm in the cockpit

I'm a hustler, got more bricks than a construction site

I stay fresh, I'm flyer than a first-class flight

By any means necessary, hard times call for drastic measures

Get in my way, and get buried like pirate's treasures

Never see me fold, it's like I got the winning hand in Poker

I'm more dangerous than cancer in the lungs of a smoker

Talk crazy, catch a hook, how's that for a punchline

Show me the competition, I call that lunch-time

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Odin's Army

I fell in battle, sword in hand, 
Invading someone else’s land.
Then I saw her, and she reached down, 
To escort me from the battleground.
I’d let her take me anywhere, 
With her winged helmet and braided hair.

She had me stand ‘neath Odin’s throne, 
Where each warrior must stand alone.
One-eyed Odin judged me to be 
Worthy to serve in his last army….
Daily killed and resurrected--
(Not quite the afterlife expected!)

Samurais taught me to sword-fight.	 
I learned spear and shield from a Hoplite.	
Vikings taught me the battle axe, 
And the Persians taught me sneak attacks.
We die each day and then come back, 
Always practicing for Ragnorak.

She brings me mead, my Valkyrie, 
And sometimes at night she favors me.
Since she’s nearby, it’s just as well--
This isn’t Heaven, but not quite Hell.
We’ll fight and sing to the war drums, 
Waiting the day that Ragnorak comes.

Our days are spent in miseries, 
But at night we have the Valkyries.
Riposte and lunge, thrust and parry; 
That’s all we do in Odin’s army.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


Try me, fool, and the semi gon' bang
I'm a big dog, I gotta' let my nuts hang
If I go to jail, best believe I'm bonding out
I always handle beef, that's what I'm all about
I'm not a punk, somebody lied--
I'm bustin' shots, let's get that fixed

Sleep on me, see me in ya' worst nightmares

I'm Hell-raiser, dead fresh in some Nike-Airs

Or in a monkey suit, totin' something with a banana clip

Leave you wet, like dry lips after applying Chap-stick

Ain't talking 'bout a blunt, but I rolled-up

I'm gon' wet these fools, hope they don't mold-up

When it go down, I go ape-shit, bananas

put coward to sleep, without the pajamas

Keep bustin' shots, like pimples on a maturing teen

I do my dirt, but leave the crime scene clean

Stay fresh, but they always call me grimy

They say I'm too gangsta', so they won't sign me

I put in work, man, I'm clockin' in overtime

Haters faces looking sour, like they suckin' on lime

You got beef, well guess what, that's all I eat

I stand my ground, you just sit in your seat

Can't let fools run me over, I'm not a roadkill

Leave you in the streets leakin', looking like an oil spill

You got a problem, I know how'tta' get that solved

Apply pressure, let's not get ya' family involved

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Game of Starbucks

I am standing 
In a line scene
Cuz my body
Needs its caffeine 

And in front of me some dink
Orders a confusing drink
Now he’s changing ‘round his order
With our patients growing shorter

And a sword from
Someone’s pocket
Now sticks through the
Guy’s eye socket

Du du du du 
Du du du du
Du du du-du du-du du-du...

Copyright © Anthony Beck | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


Try me, fool, and the semi gon' bang
I'm a big dog, I gotta' let my nuts hang
If I go to jail, best believe I'm bonding out
I always handle beef, that's what I'm all about
I'm not a punk, somebody lied--
I'm bustin' shots, let's get that fixed

I keep it 100, like whole-numbers, no fraction

You're a toy, all looks but no action

So much beef, I can open up a diner

Catch me underground, call me a miner

I keep it real, you haters is processed

To the streets I'm a god, bow down, get blessed

I got rank, like a zebra, I got stripes

Diggin' in ya' chest, you know pressure bust pipes

Got heat, I'm like an Arab with no turban

Shots burn your chest, like drinking Burbon

I cock my tool as they approach, get ready

Make sure you're on point, and hold it steady

When they get near, that trigger get a pull

Give straight head shots, it's an unspoken rule

Shots rang out, like the bells of Notre-Dame

I was long gone, before the law even came

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |


Life is hard, tough, rough, like a brilo-pad
Growing up, street smart was all I had
I had no choice but to turn to the hood
It's difficult trying to change for the good
What do you do when there's nowhere to turn?
Before you decide, look back, what did you learn?

Out-of-control, like an untamed beast

If I should fall, I'm gon' rise like yeast

Got the game in submission, fools better tap-out

On the road to success, ya'll on a different route

I'm shootin' up haters, more than a heroin addict

Ain't talking 'bout electricity, but it helps prevent static

Like a ship's anchor, I'm gon' hold it down

No matter the outcome, I'ma' stand my ground

I tried turning right, but end up going left

Already living in hell, so what's worst after death

Fast life, gotta' slow down, like I'm in a school zone

Made amends with people I ripped off, like clothes being sown

Searching life's meaning, can't find it in the dictionary

Gotta' change, or end up caged like a canary

Got a pocket full of green, like a bowl filled with lettuce

Satisfied, 'bout to end my run, so roll-the-credits

Copyright © Arcene Janvier | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Have and Have Not

Born into poverty
Instead of heraldry
Disappointment struck me glum
Square peg in a round hole
Ends up on the dole*
Got no money and I want some

My nights of abandon
Were strictly rationed
Contraception isn't cheap
Then into these drab nights
No warmth and no lights
Fed up of counting sheep

You came and you stained 
the sheets and the bed frame
Your self indulgence left me sore
You left me white
and a terrible sight
But still I craved for more

But if I had money
You'd stick with me honey
You wouldn't leave me in this mess
But I'm just a pauper
Can't support a daughter
(Finances) stretch to a budgie at best

Well she cut her hair
and dated a millionaire
Splashing cash has such allure
But, he beats her senseless
Then buys her a new dress
She's not happy, but she's 'secure'

He has and I have not
I want what he's got
The irony is - I had it once
He went to Cambridge and Eton
He's got me down and beaten
He's left me feeling such a dunce

The moral then sonny
Is those who have money
Will always get the best of both worlds
So if your not rich
Then life's a b***h
So go find yourself a rich girl

*old fashioned term for social security payments in the UK. 
[This is actually a song rather than a poem, which I wrote almost 30 years ago - when I was full of angst and acne! Can't find or remember the music I wrote for it though - shame]

Copyright © David Sollis | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

If My Siege-Tank's A-Rockin' from Star Craft II video game

The Hydralisks are assembling just out of range,
Supported by Roaches, Infestors, Banelings,…
The Mutalisks are hovering beyond our turrets,
Brutalisks are moving—it’s looking quite desperate.

There’s a silver lining for each “end of the world”:
My shift’s almost done and my Siege Tank’s been rebuilt.
I could spend my last hours paralyzed in fright;
But no, got a date with that cute medic tonight.

I took several stim-packs off a dead Marine,
And I’ll take a few jolts if she gives me the green.
So all those Zerg monsters better stay out of sight…
Better not mess with me and my Medic tonight.

We’re all out of minerals, we’re out of Vespene.
We’ve made our last Marauders and our last Viking.
But if Ghosts and Banshees can hit the Zerg just right,
I might still be around for my Medic tonight.

Chorus)  	Got a date with that blue-eyed young medic tonight.
		You know, the one that I’ve had for months in my sights.
		If my Siege Tank’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.
		Got a date with that pretty sweet medic tonight.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Nature Of History

In time, days, months to years

Is the failure of relationships
In January to July to December

And the shallow of rivers
In July, August to September

The destruction by earthquakes
In January, February to December

The reshuffle of accidents
In lakes, roads and in air

The manufacture of acids, guns, and robots
In laboratories, industries and employment areas

The color of rainbows
Blue, green, grey

The personality of people
Conceited, gloomy, temperamental

The training of soldiers, students, and also religions
In academy, schools and institutes

The birth of children
Over years and years all over the world

The truth of lies
In homes, schools up to work places

Copyright © Masereka Amos | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Conscience Effort

That little voice inside my head, 
The one that says "don't kill them yet",
Well I fear that, much to my dread,
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. 
I've gone and I've torn him to shreds.
I drained him white, and stained him red.

That little echo in my brain,
The one that tries keeping me sane,
I fear it's not the one to blame,
When I cannot live with my shame,
despise the taste of my own name,
And loathe the rules of my cruel game. 

That little angel on my shoulder, 
I've buried him under boulders, 
Then set him ablaze to smolder. 
I can't say I've closed his folder,
Just that I've never felt bolder,
Than the day that I grew colder. 

That little voice inside my head, 
The one that says "don't kill them yet",
Well I fear that, much to my dread,
He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. 
I've drained him white and stained him red,
But i do love how much he bled.

That little demon on my arm, 
I fear I fall prey to his charm;
I know he wants to bring me harm, 
But I do just love making scars.
Though the hairs raise on my arms, 
his embrace is far too warm. 

Copyright © Bo Vigoren | Year Posted 2016

Details | Lyric |

A Criminals Thirst

As a child I would play,
never wondering off far away.
Thinking the streets were even safe,
until one day you find another in this space.
A criminal thirsty to make one bleed,
an unknown someone became a bad seed.
With nothing better for him to do,
he stalks the streets for me and you.
Who is he, why does he not care,
now you and I must beware.
You and I, friends side by side,
where is this criminal, where does he hide?
Listening to the news of your local town,
this thirsty criminal took someone down.
Why do they do this, why are they this way,
did their childhood somehow go astray?
Now we must stay off the streets, stay in,
never knowing who is the next victim.
Things have changed from our childhood,
seems there is more bad than good.
Now watching over children of our own,
aware of a thirsty criminal, someone unknown.

Copyright © Diane Pennestri | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Bleed to Be

A breathing machine
is what I've become
no engine to rev in anger.

A tower of bones
with hands to shake hands
but no strength to hold onto purpose.

These feet making tracks,
they don't fill big shoes
and the shadow I cast will not make the news.

The direction that I'm going,
the perfection that's insisted,
I feel like I've been here 
ten thousand times before.
Looking in a mirror
every single time
I go to open a door.

Every place I go
people are always leaving,
grieving about the greener grass they thought they'd found before.
Why's there no place that I've heard of
where the locals long to stay?
Why are dreams always found in the places far away?

I'm done with doors, it's time for bricks thrown through windows,
no more handshakes, only elbows in chest cavities.
I want to bleed, to bleed,
to stain more lives than I could ever cast in shadow.
You can't see the scars I have so I'll earn the ones you can,
I want to bleed, to bleed,
to bleed.

Who really needs an engine to rev up after all?
With gas prices so high
anger's not cost effective.
And who needs a heart to beat with passion
when blood makes people sick?
Who needs a heart to beat at all
when it won't beat back the dreams
of far away places,
both heaven and obscene.

As long as I'm not giving up 
then I'm not giving in
and my dying breath will fan 
the fire that's within. 

I'm done with doors, it's time for bricks thrown through windows,
no more handshakes, only elbows in chest cavities.
I want to bleed to bleed,
to stain more lives than I could ever cast in shadow.
You can't see the scars I have so i'll earn the ones you can,
I want to be, to be,
to be.

Copyright © Cameron Boyd | Year Posted 2016

Details | Bio |

miniature microphone in the phones

i once was courageously brave 
unaware and dark with a gaping young heart   
it intensely told me, I could be fearlessly bold
and write inflicting lyrics that could change the whole world
well, I didn't believe it of course

until they kept senselessly disappearing 
and someone on the radio
was singing my songs (lyrics) 
a country star, then a rapper,
then, and then,     
until someone vehemently put me in the local hospital 
for six days and nights, of five I was unconscious  
then I believed that I could write a change  

talking about fear and confusing (confusion)
how did they know about me 
i never gave my songs to anyone 
and no one every gave me a dime...
or a penny   

Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2017