Young Writers Society

cliched love poem

roses are red,
violets are blue,
sugar is sweet,
and so are you.
your eyes shine like stars,
in my stomach, butterflies fight wars,
seeing you is always a treat,
and i feel sad when you're on mars.
you make my heart start to thump,
as if i'm driving over a bump,
and i like the way you make my heart beat,
the only thing is, in my throat there is a lump.
because clearly i'm breathless at your beauty,
and you have stolen all the wind from me,
you thief, you eater of meat,
and now all i can do is sit here and be.

the worst poem you can
the worst poem you can
kinda sounds like the worst home for a toucan
and that must be sad for the toucan
because it really like the worst poem you can (make)
but it's stuck in it's own worst home (for a toucan)
so it's sad.

In the ancient ground.
I hear a big scary sound.
So I fall and cry.

Some people just want to multi-class in real life,
like trying to master all the forms of structured poetry
while being a free verse poet,
or trying to make friends with everyone on the planet.
I know nothing about such people,
and I am such people, but I am also not
trying to make friends with everyone on the planet.