EmosHaveMoreFun• Show poetry

hi! im cecilia.Im 18 and i live in michigan(usa).I am very sarcastic and im a HUGE flirt,so warn me if im flirting with you.my poems concists of things that ranges anywhere from totally emo to polly preppy pants.i love music!!! i guess its how i express myself or some shit.ummm...
i have three rabbits and one of the two female rabbits are pregnat and im so exited about the new bunnies!!!!!!!!!!!!
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post this on your
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Our song by taylor swift


I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car
He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel
The other on my heart
I look around, turn the radio down
He says baby is something wrong?
I say nothing I was just thinking how we don't have a song
And he says...

[Chorus:]

Our song is the slamming screen door,
Sneaking' out late, tapping on your window
When we're on the phone and you talk real slow
Cause it's late and your mama don't know
Our song is the way you laugh
The first date "man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have"
And when I got home ... before I said amen
Asking God if he could play it again

I was walking up the front porch steps after everything that day
Had gone all wrong and been trampled on
And lost and thrown away
Got to the hallway, well on my way to my lovin' bed
I almost didn't notice all the roses
And the note that said...

[Repeat Chorus]

I've heard every album, listened to the radio
Waited for something to come along
That was as good as our song...

Cause our song is the slamming screen door
Sneaking out late, tapping on his window
When we're on the phone and he talks real slow
Cause it's late and his mama don't know
Our song is the way he laughs
The first date "man, I didn't kiss him, and I should have"
And when I got home, before I said amen
Asking God if he could play it again

I was riding shotgun with my hair undone
In the front seat of his car
I grabbed a pen and an old napkin
And I... wrote down our song
(Repeat chorus )



A girl and guy were speeding, on a motorcycle, over 90 mph on the road..
Girl: Slow down. I’m scared.
Guy: No, this is fun.
Girl: No, it’s not. Please, it’s too scary!
Guy: Then tell me you love me.
Girl: Fine, I love you. Slow down!
Guy: Now give me a BIG hug.
*Girl hugs him*
Guy: Can you take my helmet off & put it on yourself? It’s bugging me.
(In the paper the next day)
A motorcycle crashed into a building because of break failure. Two people were on it, but only one survived. The truth was that halfway down the road, the guy realized that his breaks broke, but he didn’t want to let the girl know. Instead, he had her say she loved him & felt her hug one last time, then had her wear his helmet so that she would live even though it meant that he would die.
If you('ve) love(d) someone this much put this on your site


This was written by a former US Marine. I put this here to hope all that read this will remember the soliders who cannot be home for christmas this year.


MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY FRIEND
‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one-bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn’t want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all secure.”
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.