Best 12Th Grade Poems | Poetry

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The Best 12Th Grade Poems

Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Society am I pretty yet

5 years old
Pink ribbon, silk ribbon,
Streaming through my tightened hair,
Pigtails, toothless smile
Society am I pretty yet?
10 years old
Ponytails, bobby pins,
Tantrums, thinking life’s not fair,
Chubby thighs, crooked smile
Society am I pretty yet?
13 years old
Straight hair, lip gloss,
Puberty, changes,
Invisible tears, broken smile
Society am I pretty yet?
15 years old
Messy bun, chapped lips,
Longer nights, nothing going right,
Lost mind, fake smile
Society am I pretty yet?
17 years old
Lifeless strands, stained appearance,
Just enough, empty room,
Cracked mirror, recovery
Society am I pretty yet?


Copyright © Crystal Vazquez | Year Posted 2016


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

You are more than what eyes can see

You are not what they think of you,
Your heart doesn't change when your hair gets hue.

You are not the fashion trend you follow,
You are above perceptions which are hollow.

Your bright lipstick is just an accessory,
It shouldn't change due to sarcasm or decree.

Your tone shouldn't overrule your statement,
Your no is denial and your yes is the agreement.

Your smile is mere happiness, not a proposal,
Your stands in an argument are views, they don't make you unfilial.

Your body is a sheath for your soul,
You must never accept judgements for a part or the whole.

For, you are precious and a blessing on the earth,
Nobody can do your job and can ever fill your dearth.


Copyright © Deepika Srivastava | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I'm your crazy wand

Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.
Never mind,I am the only place of
my heart away from this heart.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.

Speak or say no,but I will still speak.
I have live for you only how I left you.
In the whole world, i am only wishing you.
Do not ever tell me,you forget me,
I'm not going to listen.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.

Never speak that moon will ever be
separated from the moonlight.
Is anyone ever happy to lose his life?
This is what I want for you,your loved once.
Never mind, I'm the only place of
my heart away from this heart.
Forgetting you I'm not going anywhere now.
How will I stay away from you I'm your crazy wand.



Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My hearts love

My wish is that you are my heart's love.
My happiness is only from your happiness.
More than you and no longer I love someone.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.

I love you,I will go from this world.
As long as i will live sweetheart,I will love you.
My life is all over now,it is only for you.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.

My heart is my pain,you know it.
The thread of my breath's necklace is tangent to you.
Relationship is like this,whose rupture is not approved by 
I will settle for you in my breath.
Without you,I will live a moment now.
I have strong sense of you.
You are my comfort to the eyes.
I have won by seeing you and this is my job now.
No more than you and no one is my wish now.
My wish is that you are my heart's love.


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Love is a bond

Love is the confluence of two peoples,
this bond is of two relationships,
one is way and one is the destination.
One of the hearts of both heart beats.
This is the bond of all their births.
Love is the confluence of two peoples,


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


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Advice Not From Your Mother


Yes, I say you should seek the absurd,
 the outrageous, 
the deliriously mad.

I implore you to find the happy,
the joyful,
those crazed with perpetual glad.

Spend your time 
with insanely laughing idiots, 
where tomfoolery abounds.

You won’t have time
to resent a day of your life 
with this kind 
of tribe around.




Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Dani a Charming CVS Pharmacist

within Zieglerville, pennsylvania

genuine snow white hair 
upon her noggin doth adorn,
perhaps she will divulge to me (in private) 
after i croon (to said lass), 

the melody of Jimmy Crack Corn
hmm...or, maybe this mission 
perchance twill be doomed from the start, 
and hence finding me forlorn 
thenceforth, a backup contingency measure, 

would warrant me to don my thinking cap,
and for extra ordinary reinforcement unfold 
each Taj Mahal shaped ear flap
plus (for reinforced ironic steeliness), 

aye also resort to buttress 
any aural "stormy Dani yelling) 
via walled in interlap, 
which accouterment functions 
as a double agent i.e. (or, 

to be rather crude), 
an audiological jockstrap
to vet or figuratively kneecap
any unwanted infiltrating leaping lap
ping "FAKE" distracting news 
inducing madcap

mass media circus 
driving this generic teetotaler
to pour himself a nightcap 
essentially providing wig gull room 
with very little margin of ear err, or overlap
against bigwigs to trumpet pap 

pill low ma rendered free and clear 
asper insidious (mama mia) paparazzi 
charting imp pea ching fear
bringing out bare arms 

most likely something internuclear 
simply to discover visa vis authenticity 
if cute employee 
(sporting hair 

white as the virgin snow), 
which doth simmer and glare
blindingly, thus necessitating sunglasses 
(I choose the Ray-Ban brand)
as recommended by cited 

all time favorite pharmacist
who unwittingly (or simply because 
my myopic eyes didst stare)
fixedly - drawn to such a darling (doll ling)
explaining any reason to go THERE
to CVS - that tis where.



Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Fast Forward

1st Grade
I hug my teacher EVERY day.

Fast Forward

5th Grade
I think my friend called me a bitch and I'm hurt...and I tell...
6th Grade
I lose all my friends.

Fast Forward

8th Grade 
I can't say a word without being made fun of
...so I stay mute.
9th Grade
I make new friends!
10th Grade
I lose them because they can't accept my best friend.
11th Grade
My best friend goes to a new school.
11th Grade, 12th Grade
I stay made fun of...
I'm embarrassed!
They call me fat!
They call me stupid!
They call me ugly!

Fast Forward

Junior year I study abroad.
I learn about myself.
I learn to love myself. 

Fast Forward
I fall in love.
Not with someone who points out my flaws...
Someone who loves them.

Fast Forward

I am better than those assholes who made me feel like I was nothing!
I have a beautiful, scarred heart.
And to those assholes...
Thank you.
You showed me what love isn't!
You showed me what I don't deserve!
You showed me the ugly side of the world
...and how to find beauty in it.

And here I stand today
knowing that I am beautiful
knowing that I am in love
and knowing that I deserve it!

And I wonder why I didn't know that before.

Rewind
...to when my skinny sister beat me up and called me fat
...to when my obese mother said that I should diet with her because I needed it just as much
...to when my aunt said that I should wear makeup because I would look prettier
...to that moment when I made their comments feel like a reality
...to when I believed every word they said.

Fast Forward


Copyright © Lisa Co | Year Posted 2015


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Passion

The old man stands by the aging gate
Long forgotten by the rest of civilization
His great eyes express
his intention, his experiences
To live his life fully

A Child- born from Detroit
Born youngest of a family of seven.
Joined the Navy
To explore abroad
Worked hard
While others dropped out of 12th grade
Wanting more with his life
A gallant path you would say.

After his service
He went ahead and explored
The Countries
The People
The continents
And everything in between
Followed his dream
To explore

Closing his eyes
he savors every moment
Touching the old gate
to his abode
Then he remembers
from one of his great travels

“Don't look back, Look forward”
He smiles
And walks back to his house.





Copyright © Patrick Jang | Year Posted 2016


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Nameless Lad

He last had a pal in the 7th grade,
 They shared a class from the 1st grade.
 And together, for Home Economics,
 they were always late.
 But the seventh grade showed up, in its
 claws it held their un-anticipated fate.

 For death's heartless might had
 snatched away the pal's dear moter,
 The lad watched as he packed the
 boots that both their feet knew.
 Off he went to unknown horizons.
 "I will write", is all he said.
 And so, at the post office,
 the lad became a familiar face.
 "He never forgot me", he convinces
 his lonely self everyday.

 The 12th grade is his current stop.
 He recently acquired a harmless infection-hope.
 So, while he dejectedly kicks innocent pebbles
 in the streets he's quite hopeful that the other lad, his pal,
 will write..........or maybe tweet.

 Word has it, though, that the pal was
 seen somewhere.
 He was wearing a black suit...
 Word has it also that he couldn't make a conversation.
 Instead of his trademark smile,
 solemnity had found a home in his face.
 There he was, stone dead.

 "Maybe, just maybe, he will write",
 thinks the nameless lad as he kicks a
 couple of innocent pebbles while he threads
 on one rugged path towards home.

 And tomorrow he's going to the post office.


Copyright © Cebelihle Mbuyisa | Year Posted 2013


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Life:Real or taught


He wakes up,
He brushes his teeth,
Just because it is like that for years,
Not for a mouth neat .

Heads embedded in books,
He mugs up the scraps,
Just rot learning,
No practical mind.

He walks towards success,
Through the thorny struggle paths,
Avoiding the smart smooth route,
Cause thats what he is taught.

A dash of failure,
Makes him cry,
Taunts of folks around,
Refuse him to try.

Already in love,
His heart is retained,
But he cant go ahead,
It spoils the society's name.

He runs behind money,
Working as an ass,
Serving as an slave,
Treated as trash.

He lives the life,
The society wants him to,
His dreams dont matter,
But the madcaps do.

Continues the cycle,
Peddled by the guild,
Not his future,
But the society's he'll build.
                  - Kedar K


Copyright © Kedar kate | Year Posted 2018


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Latino-Americanos: The Children of an Oscuro Pasado

Baile con migo, hips made from the rhythm of merengés and cumbias, samba, swagger and a pinch of azucar mixed into my backbone. 
My first language was Spanish. 
Learned from sweet stories told by my papi at bedtime. 
My tongue a formation of the stardust of my heritage,
An intertwined galaxy of rolled r’s and the pledge of allegiance.
It was something I would soon forget after I was told it was wrong
Taught a new way to introduce myself “mi nombre es” turned to “my name is” after the girl in my class told me she couldn’t understand me.
So I was taught to reject the language of my family and to be proud to call myself American over Mexican.
Now my Spanish 2 native class seems so god damn foriegn and I can't seem to remember what comes after domingo on my pop quiz.
I would learn to hate my name, much preferring something like Tiffany,
Leaving behind my silent TL and X that sounds like an S because they said it was strange.
When I visit my grandmother all I could do is nod or shake my head,
Because her native language sounds like a tongue twister I can't seem to master.
So she reminds me that the colors in my soul and the rhythm in my bones are blessings and that I come from the Incas, the Mayans, the Aztecs, los Mexicas, who built an empire nunca imaginado.
That we are a children of an oscuro pasado,
A mixture of pain, sadness and oppression, 
But we inherited the strength.
We have inherited the passion.
She reminds me that my name holds the power of the most legendary Aztec princesses who ruled with the grace of the most beautiful flower.
So this is for the women that still name their children in nahuatl and the men who wake up on Sunday mornings to listen to Vicente Fernandez with their fathers,
And families that still pass on recipes of arroz con pollo.  
Because we are the sons and the daughters,
And we hold the stories, 
The journeys of the remembered,
Those who walked through deserts, waded through rivers.
We wear their legacies on our shoulders with pride,
And we do not lose ourselves to broken perceptions,
But rise above with the help of our powerful stories.
Our melodies, our galaxies,
Por que somos Latino-Americanos
And we will not be forgotten


Copyright © Xochitl Morales | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Why love me with a betrayal

Why love me with a betrayal?
Immature was just me,who believed to be?
But his promises were false and
all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?

I lost heart too,at the time of doing it.
But the thousand pieces of my heart made it.
Because his promises were false and
all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?

What will she do to heart?
What will she recognize in love?
No one who loves her heart.
She is unfaithful.
She does not love.

Why love me with a betrayal?
Immature was just me, who believed to be?
But his promises were false
and all his lies were his love.
Why love me with a betrayal?


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


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Instagram

As I am lying down in bed alone
my spiritless body rolls in bed and 
once again I reach out to my smartphone 
I click an app and see someone blond. 

On busy schedule, I always 
check Instagram on a daily basis. 
And I always see your face every day 
Your posts fantasizes like an oasis.

I wonder if you look at my pictures 
and hesitate on liking my photos
I wonder if you see me in features 
My heart broke down when I changed my bio 

I'm always drowning in a square ocean.
In your Instagram with emotion.


Copyright © Golden Closet | Year Posted 2018


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Testing

Testing
That's what we do
Not wearing a shoe


Copyright © Team PoetrySoup | Year Posted 2017


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Though Grey clouds part 2

Though the grey clouds of mist
I can see things I've figured 
This life is mine
I chose my path
I make my bed
 I just  might laugh
The pain is in my head

People on the street
No where to stay 
A women with a husband that beat on her
A 12th grader still in school

Though the grey clouds
There is a sun
That is trying to peak though
But there are clouds that
over ride the sun
Just like the smile
That try to come out on my face 
There are so many grey clouds
blocking the way
Like hurt, pain, broking hearts 
and ect..



Copyright © Martica Hurd | Year Posted 2012


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Life is a poem

When life began to live,we did not know anything.
What is to be done,what was to be done,
did not we also have it?
Was the head of those parents of the hand,
those who got it was also born.
Gradually enlarged we,we now stranded the world.
We learned to earn money,teach the house to run its on.
Learn to handle even those who have brought us here.
Teach to raise the expenses too marriage and wife.
One day came my sadness,when by parents.
I got my hands off.
Going to that day when this gum broke on me.
Now,I also have to give pleasure to my children
by becoming a shadow.
For me, all life is for me now.
All I have learned from life I have to give them to.
My dreams is now,they have to suffer all for their own sake.
It is just that I have to say this is the journey of life.







Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


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Pride or love

A girl whose beauty springs from her heart-,
her image in the album of my mind-
is like a golden waxing moon
exhaling torrent of light into a river,
but she in her real self is my love,
this is us in the planet of joy.
.
.
We shared poems to share joy,
but hers clinged to my heart.
with a promise of an eternal love,
which her words inscribed in my mind,
like the golden tears pouring into the river,
from the meek eyes of the moon.
.
We once sat under the moon,
with the golden light wetting us with joy.
You talked and poured an endless river-
of bliss and tranquility into my heart,
you have cleared the field of my mind-
and planted roses of love.
.
But now that I am for you, oh love-
why have you erased my pride? like the moon
that vanish at the birth of the sun. My mind
used to caress pride with joy-
but now that love is in my heart
I have lost my pride's river.
.
You spat into me like a dirty river-
because I am now enslaved by love
which govern the realm of my heart,
like over the night does the moon,
but I will enjoy the slavery with joy
and erase every pride from my mind.
.
It took me a while to cast away my mind
from pride's river,
although it seem like I was loosing my joy-
but much joy I now will receive from love,
So let me write a poem to you under the moon,
to tell you that love is better than pride in my heart.
.
My heart wont hold pride and love-
so let me accept love for it is a moon in the river
of my mind. oh my dear, be my joy.


Copyright © Ibrahim Clouds | Year Posted 2018


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Painting

Painting.
Imagination Blast.
Joy Personified on Canvas
In Touch With My Soul.
Painting.

Painting.
Angels Surround.
Guides Jump for Joy.
Completes my Heart Strings.
Painting

Painting.
Enthusiasm Abounds.
Ancestors Smile From Heaven
Makes my Soul Sing.
Painting.

Painting.
Whimsical, Fun.
My True Life Path.
Helps Me Keep My Sanity.
Painting.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Think Spring

Now, unlike my usually trenchant literary librettos, i regale the unknown (tum me) reader for savoir faire articulation, elocution, and indomitable tour de force proffered by spectrum of bounteous expropriated hegemony rightful to Mother Nature. 
--------------------------------------------------------
A Place Revisited Within The Mind
(an illusory escape during dead of winter).
 
The shafts of a golden veil, spring sun at noon
break through the heavily coated
overgrowth of leafy foliage
and cause shadows spar upon forest floor.

In a field of wild
a mosaic of crystalline color
from prismatic play of sunshine
upon the silently talking heads
of the swaying stalks.

the scintillating and sparkling rays
in unison with the weft
(and warp across an invisible loom)
weaves a delicious tasting warm breeze,

(which sways the boughs of treetops to and fro,
akin to an unseen baby being cradled)
brings a ladled spate of cool freshness
from the map-cap world (webbed wide)
of a manmade existence.

The grandeur of the fallow spring meadow
a pageant of exquisite dignity
by the graceful movements
from the un-choreographed fall and rise
of the unplowed acres

eyes orbit, ear re: Canal,
and twitching nostrils of sensate beings
to the mellifluous sounds
and sweet smelling aromas
that gently teasingly assault the senses
beguiling the sight,

and lulling ears into a transcendent state.
A buoyant airy tonal plume
rises into the surrounding heights
touches the breadth of cerulean sky
and scythe lent lee gently tumbles back down
like a merry widow waltzing flowery water fall.

In quiet circumspection 
the antics sans plethora of buzzfeed ding
busily buzzing foraging insects,
which contentedly hum and alight nearby

flitting to and fro
oblivious to plaudits encore
harmoniously thriving 
within the living laboratory

of Mother Nature,
sans, Insects or Insecta are by far
count as the largest group of
hexapod invertebrates
within the arthropod phylum,

where simultaneously
underneath the earthen surface
the ground tis abustle with
glorious heart throb

of one micro universe
comprising architects, builders and weavers
engage in all manner
of natural devices for a livelihood.

This brilliant splendor tantamount
to top notch operatic performance,
a sensational visual and audiological feast
hypnotizing one humble human (me)
into an inebriated state of bliss.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018


Details | 12Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

a distant silver afternoon

                              sighed she. extending 
                              limbed memories
                              above bare-faced daring..
                              the sea sips her body
                              held as is in space,  caressing
                              the hidden haunts of woman
                              on yet another day
                              floating content, solitary
                              'bove white horses riding time
                              to a distant silver afternoon ..
                              a path trills the tumbling pebbled shore
                              where upturned timbers -
                              hoarse of caulking care, 
                              creak old sea-salts' ditties,
                              as birds exotic
                              shriek their hunger..
                              secreted would-be lovers
                              smile then quench their thirst..
                              moon blushes its face
                              before casting a voyeur's sleek shadow
                              'pon the She, the He 
                              bathed in light..  


Copyright © emma green | Year Posted 2016


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We can not live without you

We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are my destiny,
we can not become anything of yours.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are the world on earth, mine is mine.
My love and you are my love, mine.
We can not forget you.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.
You are involved in my breath.
You are in my eyes.
Every moment that keeps me
in my heart is your heart beat.
We can never be separated
from heart by your heartbeat.
We can not live without you.
We can not live by losing you.


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


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There Is A New Star Up In Heaven Tonight

Up in the firmaments where there hang great bodies, 
contending for the space of glory and power, 
undoing each other as the times of the days would allow, 
They didn't pay heed to a new star that had appeared.. 
The earthlings didn't notice it either. 
When the golden lamp of the day was spent, 
and the great kings and queens  took their places in their might, 
The heavens lighted with an unusual glow
and 'twas not  even from the full moon
In a moment the heavens gasped with the words of delight 
"there is a new star in heaven tonight"
She had climbed up slowly and found her place 
Mankind has lost another one of her own 
An angel among men, now hangs in the sky 
In  the light of the day they didn't see her shine. 
She was just like any other person.. 
Now that her departure has cast a dark gloom all over, 
Her light now shines in revelation to all that behold her
Even in her death, she she still casts light in our dark..


Copyright © Frank Bansah | Year Posted 2018


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My Jiggling boobs

since maintaining a diet 
of exercise heeding "yo dude" 
(you look like a lady)
the inner fitness maven against 
the temptation of high caloric junk food 

and nightly snack king 
on a flexible fitness routine, 
this LIX aged body electric feels good
these myopic eyes and 

well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood- 
winking bosom, that if I feigned being 
a "bared naked lady" - 
as per this chest lewd

city in reference to "man boobs" 
that seemed to materialize overnight 
now appear to decrease as well 
that unwanted "love handle, 

this chap more inclined 
tubby in a greater mood 
to parade around 
this noncrowded house shirtless 
AND definitely NOT in public, 
BUT no weigh Jose 
would this generic guy go completely nude
cuz being self-consciousness of my physique 
might prompt outsiders 

to consider me a prude
and even during closed bedroom door 
sexual exploits deter me tibia rude
fellow (with average go daddy long legs) 
and my dangling dipstick smallish 
(concluding biology screwed)
a chap worthy tube he more endowed,

though gratitude proffered
to same divine cosmic consciousness
but as the year's pile up appreciation 
of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude
accepting physical characteristics 
more or less static 
hoe ping belive mass elf ya wood.










Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018


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Healing Of Music

Healing From Music

Dim so dim was the light that lead the way
Not a reflection but a shadow of what was;
Feeling resonating vibrations I may,
Because music can heal I know it does.

The melody drives the pain and darkness
To another place that it can exist;
Now is the time I reflect on my life,
As a smoke screen people can't resist.

Unforgettable moments makes us all
Realize all of the healing that works;
With music universally loved,
It will surely release your inner self.


Copyright © Nick Nguyen | Year Posted 2018