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Best Poems Written by Lyric Grant

Below are the all-time best Lyric Grant poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lyric Grant Poem

Self Portrait

-I have a dilapidate imagination,
-My mental improprieties describe my intense self-incrimination.

-The accused are my thoughts and mind.
-The truly faulted is my behavior, unrefined.
-I am undefined.
-Because my self-interpretations are blind.

-There is no way to explain nor describe who, what, or when I may or may not be.
-For all anyone knows, I'm the branches of a sweet pudding pine tree.
-And so you're aware of it,
-I feel I must declare it,
-That I simply cannot bare it,
-When I hear the letter p, I must stare at it.
-And get the urge just to say,
-"Punctual porcupines peruse, penalize, and pester preposterously perfunctory parrots,"
-However, saying it aloud, I wouldn't dare it.
-But I kind of just did, contradicting, deserving of merits.

-Now leap into my thinking box,
-I swear, not another paradox.
-In here, there are no working clocks. 
-No need for a watch.

-No need for anything of any kind, 
-I am a prisoner of my own mind.

-Occasionally going to conjugal visits with myself.
-Me, her, and I really need help.
-Twisted mental health,
-Manically creating my own intellectual wealth.
-Check out my nerdy ninja stealth
-Sounds like "Laughter, yip-yap, squeak, and yelp,"

-Now, I can waste much more time.
-I seem plentiful in rhyme.

-However, you asked for a self portrait, so that topic I will try to pursue.
-But I don't really know what or who to introduce, do you?

Details | Lyric Grant Poem

Loud, Louder

“Loud, Louder”

(They call me, what they call me. Lonely, oh-so lonely.)

The heart is loud,
The intensity louder.
She is lost among their words,
No one has found her.

They are pushy,
They are wrong.
They are lucky,
She is strong.

They should rejoice that she is fine,
They should thank God that her mind is mine.
They should praise that her soul is free,
I should testify that she is me.

But I won’t because she,
Is far more special than me.
Far more courageous,
Put through situations that would maim us.
Just because I cannot handle them,
I can barely clear out the flem,

From my throat,
Can’t make a note,
From the words I wrote,
	Unless she is there,
She’s the one that can bare
	It.
The pain.
The feeling lost.
The being alone.
The having no cost.
The not having a home.

Besides in her head,
On the chained down bed,
Traced by a needle thread,
Saying things off-track when in the red,
"Is she up fed,"
"Only her save can meds,"
From the stories that she has read,
From the lips of those who fled.

Those who left her behind,
Leaving her to lose her mind,
LOSING TOUCH WITH ALL MAN-KIND.

Leaving her to become her own King,
Leaving her to do her own thing.
Forcing her to become her own knight, 
In shining armor, to win and lose her own fight.

Walking out without a thank you,
For all the things she’s helped you through.
For every plan you ever flopped,
For all the places you've ever walked.
For every crime you've committed,
For every sin you've done in one sit in.

Now all she feels is the music,
Humana-humana-I’mm still going to lose it.
But I guess, it’s the perfect fit.
Time to get with it.

(They call me what they call me, lonely, oh-so lonely.)

The riff is loud,
The bass is louder.
They’re all looking down,
Down on her.
Leaving her with no honor.
Yet she is just growing fonder,
Of the place where no one wants her.

The screaming is loud,
But the beat is louder.
She scribbled out their words.
And then I found her.

(Lonely, oh-so lonely.)

Details | Lyric Grant Poem

Princess of Time

I am the new Reaper.
Stealing souls as I walk across shattered glass meadows.
    Taking life from both young and old.
Leaving pain and hate to be consoled.
    Breaking promises and crushing dreams.
Turning life into a balance beam. (don’t fall)
    This job of mine, my duty, my life,
Is constantly causing pain and strife.
    
    I did not choose it to be this way,
But an order from the sun’s brightest ray.
    I am the Elemental daughter Princess of time;
The end of a life’s worthy climb.

Details | Lyric Grant Poem

Broken

I'm not crazy,

I'm broken.
Busting knee caps in my imagination, blasting reality away from me, houdoukin.

Bossin', dark horse.
Eating- a bit more.
Running, a chore.
That's a lot, galore.

But no really,
I'm a jerk.
Touchy, feely,
Eh, that's work. 

And I'd love to finish,
But it seems I'm a bit childish,
Though I'll leave you with this.
I've yet to lock, load, and miss.

Details | Lyric Grant Poem

Be Defined

I want to say I feel like I'm dead. 
But that would be a lie. 
Because if I  felt dead, I wouldn't have to feel the things I feel while I'm alive. 
But let's work with good vibes. 
I can't touch my toes so I'll reach for the skies. 
But don't look me in the eyes. 
I'm afraid of what yours will see inside of mine.
Can't keep track of time.
But honestly if I knew I'd probably lose my mind. 
What mind? 
It's okay, don't take me seriously, I'm fine.  
And that's my line. 
Because people want to make sure my feelings are benign. 
But I decline. 
You're so kind. 
And I know what's in your heart, the problem is what's in mine. 
Nothing. There's nothing to find.
But being empty isn't an illness or a crime. 
It's just a place to restart, my time. 
So why do I need to be confined?
I'll be fine. 
Why should I be worried about the numbness when it hurts to be alive?
I ask myself that at every wind chime. 
At the drop of every hat or dime. 
So I decline. 
Your help is appreciated, but denied.
I'll find a way to be defined.