Story Poems - Poems about Story

Goldilocks and the three bears, The story is a classic. But one idea came to mind, What if she was made of plastic? With lips so swollen And cheeks so bloated She was red and shiny And was very coated. The bears that came saw the porridge, They searched and found Goldilocks. Screaming and fearful,...

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The queue's too long, don't have time But already here and I'm looking fine "Please sir, can you wave me like I'm a celebrity?" "I'll just check for your name, ahh it's here I see" All sorted and in we slink - Merry friends, I think you owe me a drink! ...

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I love to create your story in words, like a dream woven from threads of light and desire, As if it was and is no more, a fairy tale brought to life under the pen of time flowing gently, I turn you into a beloved fairy tale hero, with a happier ending where our love is eternal...

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I kissed the fall. Ran barefoot through glass and silence. Told him I loved him— even when it undid me. It was raw. It was ruin. But it stayed, like a scar worth naming...

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Like a dog digging bone, I hunt stories Write orgies from words known With syntax like old men's drone And metaphors overblown ...

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long story short, you survived all of life's craziness, junk and jive one day the sun had been shining but the air smelled foul for the sea was in turmoil and a lot of the fish had drowned. hope has been suffocating from the lungs of the believers our communities are being strangled, our children no longer achievers but...

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Everyone was fine until they ate the last slice. Before the sugar was poured twice. Lastly, it’s horrible like general sweating. Waiting and regretting. Everyone had fur, like a werewolf. I had nothing except a hat from golf. Cranky portraits on the wall. I somehow used to be tall. Until the shrink ray passed through....

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Calling all drivers, does your car go in reverse? Why are you over the parking line? I cannot get into my car, now waiting until you are done shopping. For weeks, it has been happening. Put your car in reverse and park straight, or leave your car home where it belongs....

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Hitler was a short man His horrors committed atrocious and despicable with Zionists he colluded acts of depravity, unspeakable Netanyansky a polish man also of horrors fame loves his genocide like his pierogi in the dark loves his kotlet schabowy If they had ever met they would kiss and rub each others neck in love with genocide Golda Meir on her knees for both A threesome of perversions rejoicing...

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David & Goliath Big vs Small Pebbles vs Sword David vs Goliath Tall vs Short Sling-Shot Sword and Shield Sheppards Boy Giant to Sky Just a few stones On the battle ground Bravely won Shepherd boy on the throne Respect from the crowd New King in town...

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my teecher liked my pikture of a train i drawed in skool she sed she liked it lots and lots and i was very glad i showd it to my best frend who then sed it woz so cool that i woz on a train one day and with my mum and dad and wen we started off...

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If they shoot, tell my story A boy writes a letter to his mother She will know nothing of it Until Something bad happens But he knows something will He knows the colour of his skin He knows that it means a possible death sentence He gives his mom direct instructions Of what to do if they try to silence his existence...

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At nine, lost a father Raised by a single mother Had to switch home Not as a prince in a throne Nelson's story lives on Stripped of who he was Forced to take an English name And carry the weight of that shame Made to wear a suit Told to change his voice But deep down he knew He never really had a choice The boy who...

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Staying Out of Reach-The Siren’s Story She was a fish out of water, only in the metaphorical sense, for the sea was her song and her home, where she played, where she laid her head, and where she was taught to bite with the most melodic twang, but she loved humanity, and her sisters hated her...

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I loved a woman named Sophia— Not a name, but a flame, A living scripture written in curves and silk, In her eyes, the ache of ancient saints, In her smile, the promise of spring rain. But I was mortal. Soft. Whole. Ready to kneel, to build her a throne From the bones of my own longing. She whispered love, Then lay with a priest— Not...

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