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Best Poems Written by Alijah Rivers

Below are the all-time best Alijah Rivers poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

I’M RUNNING A GODDAMNED UNIVERSE CUT ME SOME SLACK!!!

I can’t imagine 
how painful it is to 
be God. 

Trying your hardest 
to make a beautiful painting, 
only to have the characters 
you created complain and 
mock the world around 
them. 

Why does God let bad things 
happen to good people? 

Pretty sure you’d walk 
away from the canvas too 
if it spat back and criticized 
you. 

But perhaps, 
in his silence,
he waits, 

hoping we’ll learn to 
appreciate the 
masterpiece. 

And after he 
suspects we’ve endured 
enough punishment, he’ll return 
to add an additional layer 
of paint. 

We call these added colors 
miracles, and they renew our 
dwindling faith.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

The Boy With The Cardboard Heart

When you have nobody 
you have somebody and 
that somebody is 
yourself. 

Because you’re 
all you’ve got. 
So why need 
anybody? 

Anybody being nobody. 
Nobody being somebody. 
Somebody being anybody. 

Somebody. Somebody. Somebody. 
Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. 
Anybody. Anybody. Anybody. 

Does anybody 
understand why 
the  I feel 
like a nobody? 

Even though 
deep down I know 
I’m somebody.

Or maybe I’m nobody. 
Or maybe I’m everybody 
all at once. 

I’d have to be 
everybody since 
I feel everything. 

Everything is nothing. 
Nothing is everything 
all at once. 

Everything. Everything. Everything. 
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

I’m an everybody that 
feels like a nobody that 
misses a somebody and 
that somebody is a 
nobody. 

And that 
nobody is 
myself. 

I miss myself. I miss myself. I miss myself. 

Who am I? 

Can anybody 
answer the damn 
question? 

No, 
I have to 
figure it 
out for 
myself. 

By myself. By myself. By myself. 

Myself being me. 
Me being selfish. 

Selfish for expecting an answer. 
Selfish for asking the question. 

Questioning questions. 
Answering answers. 

Answer me this: 
What became of the 
boy with the cardboard 
heart? 

Simple: 
He folded in on 
himself when he realized 
that having somebody meant 
he’d be nobody because that 
somebody made him feel warm. 

Warm being hot. 
Hot being cold. 

Cold being the boy - 
Hot, melting cold. 
Heartbreak. 
Broken heart. 
Caught on fire. 
Death! Death! Death! 

Nothing, Everything 
Everything, Nothing 

All. At. Once.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

Life Is A Dance Everyone Needs To Feel Comfortable In Joining

When I was a boy,
all I wanted to do was
dance. And I had
no fear in doing
so.

I'd dance in the morning,
I'd dance at night,
I'd dance inside,
I'd dance outside.
It didn't matter —
and it's all I cared
to do.

Then I grew up,
which doesn't always
mean growth.

And I started to
take notice of all
the other people
on the dance
floor.

Tall, short, skinny,
fat — it didn't matter.
None of them really
were, but they all felt
more beautiful to me
than I did to myself.

And so I took my leave.
I went to the corner
and started watching
everybody else have
a good time.

I started
feeling undeserving.
I started feeling foolish —
more and more so, the
longer I sat there and
watched.

The real fools of
this world, however,
aren't the ones who
continue to dance.
They are the ones
who forget how to.

And for me,
knowing this isn't as
deep as it is
debilitating.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

Shooting Stars Are Exactly As You Are

Behind every person’s soul,
a universe quietly resides.
And I still find it strange
that despite that cosmic brilliance,
we circle back to fixate
on surface-level, fleeting things.
Things that could never touch
the depth of our own true radiance.

We never notice our own
beauty—isn’t that beautiful?

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

6 Dead, 4 Wounded, And One On The Way

Leukemia boys and
Leukemia girls wave
in hospital volunteers,
as the angels wave
them away.

What is 
love?

Beyond
an overpriced
ambulance ride,
and an unnecessary
hospital stay?

The most beautiful things:
summer sweat,
and Rome after
rain.

Inside,
a child draws
a yellow sun
with trembling fingers.
The IV, taped
down like it’s trying
to hold him
there.

Forced positivity.
A heart full of
apathy.

I see that
same world you try
to see with substance sober,
and I’ll be the first to tell you—
it isn’t a
blessing.

God has a
hand-grenade
smile, and it’s
hard to find
the grace
in that.

There’s
6 dead, 4 wounded,
and one on the
way.

What an
unimpressive
collection.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

A Pair Of Glasses, A Swan, And An Origami Clock

Nature is calling,
your hips swaying.
A light snowfall takes
place in a winter 
breeze.

The footprints of a doe
and her fawn grace the
land in fragments.

Broken bits of
grass poke out
from where they
were last seen, in
brown, sticky
patches.

A moose,
a rabbit,
a raccoon—
resting, rejuvenating,
saving their strength.

Birds chirp,
wolves howl.
I close my eyes
and know I’ve
made it.

Did you make it
to Italy, sparrow?
For I am yet to
make it there.

I wish
you well.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

March Comes In Like A Lion

March Comes In Like A Lion 

Dandelion dance
in the palm of my 
hand; a gentle 
bloom. 

I love 
my birthday 
flower.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

3 Copper Coins, And The Kite Caught In The Telegraph Wire

The man was
handsome, intelligent,
and good in bed.

But he just
had nothing
to say.

And all of his days
were the same.

Monochromatic
introspection followed
by a sort of smothered
self-expression.

He never
felt like himself.
And he always felt
worried about what
other people thought
about him.

Who even was
he?

His routine?
His career?
His interests?
His beliefs?

Beliefs?

The man had
no beliefs, the
man didn’t need
to believe.

For if he started believing
in something, he may have
actually needed
to start existing.

And that idea
scared the
hell out of 
him.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

i know i'm late, so here's a picnic basket to make up for it

There is something so 
sad about fireworks. 
They're so flashy, 
pretty, and exciting, 
but as they fade it
makes you feel sort 
of lonely. 

Afterall, they're 
nothing more than 
a semi-permanent 
spark intended to 
entertain for a 
semi-permanent 
moment. 

The people that 
come into our lives 
are a lot like the 
fireworks: 

flashy, pretty, 
exciting.

Then 
we blink, 
and they 
fade. 

There is 
something so 
sad about fireworks. 

And there is 
something so 
lonely about being 
forced to participate  
in an event that you 
know isn't going to 
last forever. 

Bittersweet flash, 
bittersweet fade, 
bittersweet everything.

Details | Alijah Rivers Poem

At The Other Side Of Every Rainbow Is A Mine Field Of Unanswerable Rhetoric

Humanity is sick.
Humanity is fragile.
We come into the
world being taught
the opposite of
these fundamental
truths.

We are taught that everyone is equal,
that everyone deserves a chance.

But the world teaches us differently.
It doesn’t care who you are—
only what you’re worth,
only what you can
give before you
are broken.

But the truth is sharper—
there are no guarantees,
only chances taken
and chances lost.

What good were
our promises, besides
failed ideals? And
what good are ideals
when no one is held
to them?

Their losses
have taught
me:

we aren’t the sum of our flaws—
we are the sum of our virtues.
Even if those virtues are selfish.
Even if we don’t deserve a
second chance.

The world can take everything you
have in an instant, but you have to give it your
pride.

And you have to give
hope to the lies we tell
to heal the world.