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Best Poems Written by Bethany Phillips

Below are the all-time best Bethany Phillips poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Wicked Eyes

Wicked eyes,
deviled tongue.
She turns her head,
you never know which one.
Her face could be happy,
her face could be sad,
or she just might be frigging mad.
You roll the dice,
to see which one,
now she has her mental fun.
You put up with it,
these unpredictable fits.
All in hopes,
to see her tits.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008



Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Change

Itês funny,
when the waves are all gone,
and I am finally finding my footing on the ground,
my friends are nowhere to be found.
Just like the constant changing winds,
they leave to deal with their own sins.
So now Iêm left here all alone,
wondering why they donêt phone.
I have changed, I have grown,
maybe thatês why Iêm left here all alone.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Mom

She's the Pit Bull,
The Cat That Came Back,
and Humpty Dumpty,
all rolled up into one.

For the many mistakes she has made,
she paid for it a million times over.
She is broken,
destined to live in pain.

Alone,
she ponders her photo's of the past.
Where she is King,
ruler of all.

Kingdom of smoke,
where all have claim.
But back then,
she couldn't see this far ahead.

The gestures have grown,
the wolves hide,
no one can be found.

Our King has fallen,
by the hands of the enemy.
Help,
all is lost.

The princess calls,
but her voice is lost,
in the thick roots of the overgrown unkept past,
no one will come.

No one will come.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Life

Life is nothing but,
a series of spells.
With each new ingredient,
a new ending foretells.
If you have any luck,
you'll feel love,
you'll hear bells.
Then it will be a true love story,
a novel that sells.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Fame

What is Fame?
Fame is a game.
No winner’s,
no loser’s,
we are all the same.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008



Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Broken Men

Broken men,
are easy to find.
A dime a dozen,
you want to see mine?
A real man,
is hard to find.
But when you do,
he'll blow your mind.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Real People

I like taking people out of their element,
seeing how they click.
Seeing if they’re that solid gold person,
or a strait up dick.
Although some people seem nice at first,
then they turn into  prick.
I have to get to know the real them,
if I have to I’ll use a trick.
I can only handle real people,
fake people make me sick.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Twisted Logic

Twisted Logic,
is the way my world works.
You have to go backwards,
to go forwards in my book.
Sometimes you have to bend sideways,
to get a better look. 
Sometimes you have to freeze it,
just to let it cook.
What ever you do,
don't get lost in my crazy little book.
You might wined up in the psycho-ward,
if you take too close of a look.
So sit back and relax,
while I finish writing my book.
You don't need to worry about it,
backwards is the way my world works.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

I Am

I really want to find someone,
it would be nice to be held honestly.
I am a witch.
I am completely rough around the edges.
I am lost.
I am found.
I am there for everyone,
but people always let me down.

I don't ask for much.
Loyalty,
trust,
respect,
understanding,
180%.
But simple humans don't understand this.

I am star child,
forever lighting up the sky.
I am left in this life,
to simply ask why.
Do you understand?
Can you see beyond your reality?

Cause if you can,
you're as special as me.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

Details | Bethany Phillips Poem

Nomad

It's heartbreaking,
watching the clouds part.
The city is burnt down,
there is nothing left to go back to.
The warrior must move on.
For she is a nomad.
...destined to be alone forever.
Only her pen will feel her pain,
and her paper will hear her confessions,
...she likes it that way,
and that is the way it'll stay.

Copyright © Bethany Phillips | Year Posted 2008

12

Book: Reflection on the Important Things