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Best Poems Written by Synonym Thesaurus

Below are the all-time best Synonym Thesaurus poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Beautiful Mind

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Hate the day time, and the boredom,
And the hours left to kill,
And the pain you feel inside,
Scoops a hole for him to fill,

Whisper secrets over sunsets,
Promise you will never tell,
Pretty lies, dainty deceptions,
You never felt so well,

A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,

Dazzles you with words,
Leaves you lost in a daze,
Cos you always were a sucker,
For a witty turn of phrase,

Gives you poppies in the evening,
Loves them best because they bring,
The things you both are craving,
Sleep for you and blood for him,

Sink into it easy,
The opiate of his hold,
Like a knife through butter or skin,
You know he prefers them cold,

A beautiful mind,
But he’s sick in the head,
You imagine his touch,
He imagines you dead,
In his eyes there’s something wrong,
Sense the danger, crave the thrill,
Cut the cord, you’re too far gone,
Just slowly losing will,

Knows your weakness, knows your movements,
A master of the maze,
Watch you dreaming in the darkness,
He’s been lying there for days,

You can taste it on his lips,
See it hidden in his smile,
Know the truth, yet still embrace it,
That boy will bleed you dry,

Sunrise brings him closer,
Runs his fingers through your hair,
Breathes so softly “it’s your time now”,
And you haven’t got a prayer.

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Demise of a Drama Queen

You always aspired to the distinguished air
That tends to attend the depths of despair,
Strove to emanate the sophistication
You associate will suicidal tendencies

Wallow in an elegant depression,
A pretty little picture perfect portrait
Of a contemporary damsel in distress

The world is your stage
And the stage is your world

In the mirror you’d oft rehearse
That tormented temptress look you wear so well
What’s your secret?
Teach us your tricks!
I hear it’s all in the eyes

Many’s the time that late into the night
You’d steal a bottle from the kitchen 
And a fancy champagne flute
From your mother’s pretentious display cabinet in the hall

That J2O sure packs a punch!

Play pretend it’s vodka or vino,
Arsenic if the mood takes you

Mixes well with the H2O
You’re squeezing from your eyes

Listen to Joni and Leonard on an evening,
You heard it’s supposed to be deep,
Nod knowingly and sing along
To the lyrics you secretly can’t comprehend

Turn to the bible in search of the good word
Or a good story
Or a good laugh

Might as well still be in Latin
For all you understand

Can’t quite decide
If you’re seeking something to believe in;
Your trumpets and cherubim moment

Or just something to snort at derisively,
Unleash the sting of your oh so biting cynicism

Well aren’t you quite the seasoned critic!

In an expensive notebook
You pen the most profound and poignant ponderings
Of your suffering soul,

Reads like a Shakespearian tragedy
Or a Jane Austen novel,
You favour words such as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’,
(‘thine’ is your favourite)
And occasionally refer to yourself in the third person

You burn with self righteous indignation
Regarding those who fail to sympathise
With the teenage condition,

Adoring the sensation of artificial heat
Coursing through your core,
Through your sacred unseen centre,
Through the fibres of your very being!

These are the memories I hold of you

Looking back,
I have often thought it strange,
That the day your Prince Charming
Took his chariot for a run in the rain
And spilt himself across the dashboard
And the radio and the seats

Was the day your tear ducts dried up

And the thespian inside you
Slit its wrists for real.




*Just thought I’d clarify I’m talking about the death of her desire for drama and losing her 
tendency to romanticize grief, rather than her literally committing suicide*

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A Perfect Storm

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Side by side you stand exalted,
Over land from your dirt throne,
Earth lies open, blast ripped through it,
Peeled back flesh drilled into bone,

Long lost count of times you’ve dreamt it,
Pause, rewind it, play the scene,
Now the moment’s here unfolding,
Can’t remember how to breathe,

Read the words, rain blurs the paper,
Fragments of a heart and mind,
Stunned, astounded by his brightness,
Leaves you dazzled, colour blind,

Looking back, you saw it coming,
Sense the air’s alive with storm,
Still it finds you caught off guard,
Lightening running through your core,

Like a livewire on your skin,
It’s still coursing through you strong,
Leaves you vibrant from the shock,
Even when the source is gone,

Well in the end, you find it’s easy,
Drift into it just like sleep,
Reality blurs in states between waking,
But it’s real, now live the dream.

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Maneater

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He swallowed a spider to catch a fly,
And chase away the boredom,
Eat up the loneliness inside,
Convinced that she adored him,

She said she’d read him like a book,
And play him like a scene,
And sure enough,
Her lips form the words,
But she doesn’t know what they mean,

The lines that you wrote her,
The secrets you told her,
She’s selling them on the cheap,
Black widow spider,
She’s crawling inside you,
Still dream of her when you sleep,

Sold him her body,
Promised him everything,
Said that she’s love him forever,
Fair weather lover,
Moved onto his brother,
Pull it taut,
Watch him choke on the tether,

She creeps through his veins,
Under skin turned cold,
Pale and sticky from his word webs,
Stumble dazed, saps his strength,
To feed her own,
Feel your life force ebb and flow,

The lines that you wrote her,
The secrets you told her,
She’s selling them on the cheap,
Black widow spider,
Bleed her out, drain the poison,
Too late now, she’s in too deep.

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Anthem For Doomed Youth

Let’s hear three cheers for the decade of disinfectant!
Clean out your insides with cheap vodka!
Blow your brains out with Nirvana!
Your breath reeking of teen spirits,

Does weed count as a vegetable?

You’re getting your five a day,
Candyman on the corner
Selling sweets for afters,

Don’t forget the medicine cabinet buffet,

Your mother’s migraine pills,
And faded Ritalin packets,
From the good old days,

We are the children,
Of the Children of the Revolution,

The Harbingers of Revulsion,
And the Standard Bearers of Revolvers,
Desperate for you to know how much we don’t care,

Something’s wearing secret holes inside us,

Nuclear fallout?
The brainfry radiation from our phones?
A big ass moth chewing at our soul fabric,

Fill them up with whatever’s close to hand,
Smoke and smut and other people’s bodies,

There’s a virus swimming in our systems,

Pump it full of alcohol,
Drink it, drown it, bleed it out,
A stolen bottle of Jacks and a bargain basement penknife,
That oughta do the trick,

Living for the weekend,
Cheap thrills and easy kicks,
How’s that for a creed to live and die by,

We are the future,

Headmasters and Principles of the world join forces,
And spread the good word,
Patrons of pontification,
They preach to us about keeping America united,
And Britain great,

Well hold ‘em high!

Put your hands in the air like ya just don’t care!
We’ll return the favour and pump the lot of them full of pills
Of the plumbum variety,

That’ll edu-ma-cate ‘em.
That’ll learn ‘em good and proper!

We don’t like Mondays.

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Universal Language

Cling to equations
And it follows you will find
Safety in numbers

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Karma

The air was thick with water,
And I listened to the sound of light,
Shake our tiny house, our tiny heads,
Your tiny heart,
And the big bad old sky,

The sounds of this old house,
And your old voice,
Make my brain and bones ache,
And the heat from your body makes me miss the cold,

The world was blurred to an impressionist painting,
When you strode out to swim in it,
To prove you could still be spontaneous,
And if you damn well wanted, you would,

I watched from the window,

You opened your mouth to it,
Like a fleshy, bad breathed cup,
And then kissed me with your precipitation-slimy lips,

Sometime in the night, I will sing you this whisper:

The say that rain leaves everything changed,
Freshborn butt-slapped baby new,
But it’s just old sewage making the rounds,
Your own piss pouring down on you,

Oh yes my darling, that’s all it is,
Your own piss pouring down on you.

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Luck

I took a clover 
And I glued an extra leaf
We make our own luck

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Springs and Starsigns

I don’t know if there’s a God,
But I still prayed we’d not be seen,
That night we scaled your neighbour’s fence,
To steal their trampoline,

In the halflight the elastic,
Shone like a lacquered animal skin,
Stretched taut across the beaten frame,
Held in place with rusty pins,

Sat there crouching in the darkness,
Like some huge primeval beast,
Yeah it sat there like a drum,
As our souls slapped a beat,

Put me in mind of Three Blind Mice,
Or God Save the Queen,
Or The Rhythm of Life,

Pulled me closer when the net,
Became an oil slick in the rain,
Said whatever souls are made of,
Yours and mine are just the same,

Well I’ve never like clichés,
And I don’t believe in fate,
I’d prefer you to quote Hardy,
I find Austen quite passé,

But there was something in the way,
That you could spin a phrase,
Yeah when you shaped them with your mouth,
Those old words seemed newly made,

You said,
I’ll live my life according,
To the fortune cookie sages,
And glossy magazines,
With their astrology pages,
We can chart a route to China,
And sail by the stars,
We’ll earn ourselves a name,
In brothels and in bars,
Yes we will make our fortune,
And we will find our fame,
In a place where they write danger,
And opportunity the same,

Well I’ve never been to China,
Couldn’t quite see the attraction,
Why fly halfway round the planet,
When there’s sun and sea at Brighton?

And I never understood,
Your peculiar gravitation,
To late night establishments,
Of a dubious reputation,

With their smoke and smut and chewing gum,
And soggy Carlton coasters,
And air of desperation,
And karaoke posters,

Full of ugly men and women,
Making ugly propositions,
You say ‘perfection is a fault’,
By way of explanation,

And claim that there’s a quiet glory,
In decay and all that’s grimy,
And you’ve always been so partial,
To the charms of ugly beauty,

Then sang,
I’ll live my life according,
To the fortune cookie sages,
And glossy magazines,
With their astrology pages,
We can chart a route to China,
And sail by the stars,
We’ll earn ourselves a name,
In brothels and in bars,
Well they’ll never see it coming,
Our touch will leave them changed,
Once we’ve finished with this world,
It will never be the same,

Oh once we’ve finished with this world,
It will never be the same.

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Night Life Death Day

Heard them preaching from their pews
As you glanced up at the clock
That there’s safety found in numbers
So you’re following the flock

Into clubs and bars and bedrooms
Gone by morning, leave no trace
Work the night shift nine to five
Got to keep up with the pace

Body swinging like a pocket watch
It’s amateur hypnosis 
Every cheap trick in the book
For a positive prognosis 

The dancefloor throws a pulse
Creeps up stems through marching feet 
Propaganda screaming lose yourself 
But don’t get in too deep
A creed of contradictions
Heard you chant it in your sleep
Feel your body lose momentum
Trade your soul to feel complete

Electric halflight, static darkness
Sticky glasses, sticky hands
The struggle for debauchery 
That etiquette demands

Smoke and mirrors, dull reflection
Face is blurred, your skin is wet
No time for introspection
What you see is what you get

Less is more and more is less
I see London, I see France
Forced invitation, insincere declination
Thanks, but I’m just here to dance

A creed of contradictions
Heard you chant it in your sleep
Propaganda screaming lose yourself
But don’t get in too deep
Well tell me how it feels
Things you held sacred sold so cheap
Baby, time to grow a backbone
Lose the crawl and find your feet

Yeah so find yourself spine
Before you find you’re in too deep