By Choice(P) Poems - Poems about By Choice(P)

scrabble is my game of choice carrace, lamesbe and myjoyce seven letters I make into a word the time I spend on this is so absurd two to six hours a day I make words in a clever way scrabble forever appeals to me putting words together, my happy glee...

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A black girls stance on self love Is one not often understood One that take years of healing One that understands the process of feeling Because in a world that shoves hate down our throat You can't be surprised when we swallow the bare minimum The relationship between a black girl and herself Is one not...

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A life of false happiness Or death by defiance They claim we have a choice But what kind of choice is a life of imprisonment or a death penalty An eternal life of isolation Or an eternity of nothingness With choices like that who needs control Or to be caged by manipulation For us the ideal choice Would be death To...

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Here you are.. As am I.' This Intesection of The internet is where todays (crossroads lie) On the highway of the internet.' Here I call out And cry..' Save your soul turn to Jesus He gave All for you don't pass by.' Call Him into your being, His will is That not all shall die.'...

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If you're looking for change, don’t wait for kindness to reward you, or for broken systems to apologize. Look in the mirror, Ask yourself if today was built on truth. The kids we tried to help I wish I could give them softer starts. But the truth? Even with soft starts Life can lead to hard ends...

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We are all born for such a time as this today Everyone had enough of the worlds fighting How long will this selfish greed carry on for? Are we any different from all our ancestors Viewing the world for what's it has to hold Eventually, we became consumers of greed Anger only hurts those showing the anger Children's we got to learn...

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The wind stood still, the stars held breath, Two voices rose in life and death. One whispered start, one thundered close, Each pulled the soul where no one knows. Beginning sang with morning light: "Come rise with me, embrace the fight. Your dreams are seeds; they’ve just been sown— Why fear the path you’ve never known?" End replied in velvet tone: "But peace is...

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perception sees beyond reality interprets to the best of its ability optimism keeps fire burning in one’s heart while pessimism gleefully tears everything apart instead of being boggled with the mundane romance fills our days with wonder and champagne a dusting of fantasy does wonders to cast a spell kicks life up a notch and that’s no bagatelle Submitted on July 5,...

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Contest, Lost, Sponsor, Craig Cornish, Date 6/23/2025 When friends suggested, “Try cocaine!” Mike’s “No” would reckon choice. His mom ignored this new campaign; rebuff became Mike’s voice. Having seen what crack does to his mom, Mike felt no peer sway, but still stayed ...

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every second is a choice I could draw a cartoon play with my dogs clean the refrigerator every minute is a choice I could paint a canvas write thirty-two poems vacuum the house every day is a choice I could meet my friends read other people’s poems wash the dishes cleaning the refrigerator vacuuming the house and washing the dishes are out I could read other people’s poems though...

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It's conscious. It's deliberate. It's empowering to the extent you decide. Reality is forever up for interpretation ~ Is life ugly or is it beautiful? Your decisions determine your life, drag you down or become uplifting. AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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Thomas Hobson (1544 –1631) in 19th century late a Cambridge ostler and postal carrier set his priorities straight he owned a livery stable of 40 Hackney horses or more plus boots bridles and whips and put the horse the cart before after the animal left the barn by bolting fast the door and as precautionary balm the nag nearest the stable gate the worn-out equine storm to...

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picking a fresh fruit is euphoric than picking up in the garden Placed 3rd (POTD) ...

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My mind drifts loose into the moving art framed by train window. Houses in the field glitch by— brick red roofs and windows that hold sunset across the champaign. I wonder what it’s like to live in that world, where you wake and rest with the sun. My gaze drifts to clouds light as swan feathers. Their dance—effortless, unrepentant as the sunset dyes...

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Spring brings Paradise. Farewell to Winter's...

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