tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91427824367916253922024-03-13T20:46:18.005-07:00TEEN ANGST POETRYAngst, Depression, Bad Rhyming. An online database of the world's most embarrassing poetry. Submit your own today!TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.comBlogger260125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-45909774057567932352012-01-02T22:29:00.001-08:002012-01-02T22:31:31.134-08:00Teen Angst Poetry .com Is Done<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_zfx8bhxUk0wV3TGkIMgd0dOB3azotpQSX2bvNzxruE_YnJt3l5MTgXmDXRXpe1XtJwlsCZgLNEMbw5p4mgejp6DCLH8kFwpnpNzajwuISRwuJgWczai0bXpcYt2IiGwzRst4sCSMPc/s1600/Teen-Angst-Jacket-cover-cro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_zfx8bhxUk0wV3TGkIMgd0dOB3azotpQSX2bvNzxruE_YnJt3l5MTgXmDXRXpe1XtJwlsCZgLNEMbw5p4mgejp6DCLH8kFwpnpNzajwuISRwuJgWczai0bXpcYt2IiGwzRst4sCSMPc/s320/Teen-Angst-Jacket-cover-cro.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This website is no longer up and active. Please feel free to browse some of the wonderfully angsty poetry that was submitted.<br />
<br />
If you want a healthy dose of bad teen poetry please check out the book <b>Teen Angst: A Celebration of REALLY BAD Poetry. (photo of cover above)<br />
</b><br />
If you want to see a live show please visit<a href=" http://www.TeenAngst.ca"> http://www.TeenAngst.ca</a><br />
<br />
If you want to know more about the brains behind Teen Angst Poetry visit <a href="http://www.SaraBynoe.com">http://www.SaraBynoe.com</a><br />
<br />
Thanks for your love of bad poetry,<br />
<br />
xoTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-10394865341565133942009-09-20T10:59:00.000-07:002009-09-20T10:59:09.507-07:00VANCOUVER COMEDY FESTIVALATTENTION VANCOUVER! <br />
<br />
TEEN ANGST is going to be a part of the 2009 Vancouver Comedy Festival. <br />
<br />
Thursday September 24 7pm at the Westin Grand - and it's FREE!<br />
<br />
Check it out: <a href="http://www.comedyfest.com/show/teen-angst">http://www.comedyfest.com/show/teen-angst</a>TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-20750316604709509992009-09-20T10:37:00.001-07:002009-09-20T10:37:52.750-07:00SOPPYJust to hold you close to me<br />Just to hear you talk<br />Just to take a walk with you<br />Would be enough<br />To make me see<br />That I like you enough<br />To do stuff<br />That I would never do<br />Unless it was for you<br />I'd pick flowers for you<br />There's no-one else who<br />I'd do these things for<br />Never done them before<br />Feels so strange<br />Try to rearrange<br />My feelings for you<br />Guess it must be true<br />I (probably) love you........<br /><br />By: Anil A.<br />Circa: 1992<br />Age: 16TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-70218457513915406772009-09-20T10:35:00.000-07:002009-09-20T10:37:14.103-07:00THE ONLY ONE YOU'D SEEIf I could tell you how I feel, you could make my dreams come real<br />Then maybe I could be, the only one you'd see<br />I try and find the words, explain how much it hurts<br />But all I do is F*$k up, end up wishing I had shut up<br />Not looking for a wife, but want more than a bit part in your life<br />So if you have some time to spare and are looking for someone who cares<br />Then maybe I could be, the only one you'd see.<br /><br />By: Anil A.<br />Circa: 1992<br />Age: 16TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-30344402744557694802009-09-15T19:02:00.002-07:002009-09-15T19:03:34.555-07:00Untitled SonnetAgain, I fell for it, the same ole' dating routine.<br />I saw you, I loved it, until I saw the real thing.<br />You acted like you were "the stuff" and tried to push me away.<br />I rejected that attitude and came closer trying to stay.<br />You turned your back repeatedly, making me feel bad.<br />You even yelled at me once because I made you mad.<br />You cut me off in sentence once to shut me up right then.<br />You squeezed your eyes and walked away, and left me alone again.<br /> I watched you walk the longest way, again I felt so awful.<br /> But, I'll never stop thinking of you, or how you are so wonderful.<br /> <br />By Sydney Stewart TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-53802176691342716652009-09-15T19:02:00.001-07:002009-09-15T19:02:46.957-07:00Untitled PoemWhen away <br />I feel okay <br />Alright <br /><br />I get home <br />Sink into my regular depression <br />Self pity, self loathing <br />Self analysis <br />What a wimp <br /><br />I hate this life <br />What comes ahead <br />What was <br />What is <br />We are born to die <br /><br />Go to school <br />Work for fifty years <br />Die <br />Another ant come and gone <br />That's all we are <br /><br />If you think you're different <br />You're Wrong <br />If you choose optimism <br />Congratulations <br /><br />I wish I could <br />I try, but my brain <br />Won't have it <br /><br />Cursed to a life of self pity <br />Self loathing, pessimistic <br />Wimpery<br /><br />By Eric NewportTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-77217585917201270042009-09-15T19:01:00.000-07:002009-09-15T19:02:19.974-07:00Untitled PoemWherever I am <br />Whoever I'm with <br />Apathy sits in the pit of my soul <br /><br />Melodramatic my writings may be <br />Expressive of thoughts and feelings they are <br /><br />Accurate Depth <br />Perception falls short <br />Writing with ease <br />Flowing with words <br />Empty of meaning <br />Without direction <br /><br />My brain is wrinkled <br />With repetitive thoughts <br />Of petty introspection <br /><br />Feeling worthless<br /><br />By Eric NewportTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-17472396527371317182009-08-10T06:39:00.000-07:002009-08-10T06:44:23.646-07:00Untitled Poem<span style="font-style:italic;">TeenAngstPoetry.com note: Not entirely sure if this is an authentic Teen Angst Poem or an adult angst poem channeled through the bad rhymes of a Teen Angst one. </span><br /><br />Am I gifted or cursed for the way that I think? <br />Have I been given something extra or am I missing a link? <br />Nothing ever seems complicated or too hard <br />and I happily go that extra yard.<br /><br />I see things in patterns and approach things one step at a time; <br />however I am at a loss to explain my downward climb. <br />I have always been different and have never fit in. <br />So many questions I don’t know where to begin.<br /><br />Is there anyone else out there at all? <br />Maybe you are the one who should answer my call. <br />I can’t be the only person who loves to work and live alone, <br />who reads and writes and hates the phone. <br />I can never be myself around people I know <br />and it is a huge effort to keep up the show. <br />I pretend to be stupid and I never make waves, <br />bosses seem happier when working with slaves. <br />I work twice as hard and never complain. <br />I put up with ignorance and listen to the truly insane. <br />I lower myself to have half the chance. <br />Nobody likes a smarty-pants.<br /><br />I never claimed to be brilliant, but I can’t change what I know. <br />I swallow my pride and secretly grow. <br />I need none of the things that people work for.<br /> Although they are nice to have around, I need something more. <br />What that something is I have yet to find out. <br />Until then I will quietly accomplish my goals without any doubt.<br /><br />Everyday something happens that hurts me deeper inside. <br />A struggle each time to go on or runaway and hide. <br />So many things in this world that don’t make sense <br />and closer to home on the same side of the fence.<br /><br />No one cares about anything at all. <br />They do their eight hours and disappear behind a wall. <br />Everyone rips everyone else off. <br />People are treated like pigs in a troph. <br />Most people accept that they have to work, <br />but they take the fun out of it and just go bezerk.<br /><br />All the rules and regulations. <br />The lawyers and courts and masturbations. <br />Schoolyard politics, techno and rap! <br />Nothing left to enjoy, I am surprised we don’t snap.<br /><br />Why have tertiary pressures to succeed, <br />when there are not any jobs for the many that need. <br />I have painted a grim picture that affects us all. <br />These problems can be fixed when broken down small. <br />I program myself daily not to worry about things I can’t control. <br />I predict the things I can, a one in six chance each time I roll.<br /><br />By Matt Carroll http://www.mattjamescarroll.comTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-81833837271591054752009-07-16T07:53:00.000-07:002009-07-16T07:54:18.767-07:00Fuck You PoemYou said you'd love me<br />But you won't<br />You think I'll stand for it<br />Well, I won't<br />So, fuck you, you piece of poo<br />Like a piece of crap I can't get off my shoe<br />I'll laugh as you gasp and sputter<br />Trying to take a breath<br />I'll throw your body into the gutter<br />After your painful death<br />As your body falls, I will rise<br />Tears of joy shall stream from my eyes<br />As your body is slowly being eaten by flies<br />But no one will go to your funeral<br />Because you SUCKED as I recall<br /><br />- Written by Devan Daly, 1985TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-28172688093521569942009-07-16T07:52:00.000-07:002009-07-16T07:53:17.964-07:00UntitledIn silence the air trembled, every movement caused the table to shutter. Millimeter by huge millimeter I shook towards the edge, this is not direction I would choose to go, if I were actually alive. I am an empty glass, alone, unable to help myself. If I were to fall the pain would last just seconds, for I would be the only one grieving. Then I clattered off the table. The glass spilled into fragments like tiny blades scattering across the floor. The event lasted seconds, but the following trials would last much longer. For if there was not a foolish infant crawling along the floor unable to reason, then a boy would not have to chase after it... but the boy did, and in that same moment glass flipped into his eye. Screaming in agony, the boy fell unto to the floor, his body only met more shards. Sharpened glass hit arteries, a red pool swirled around him. The paler he got the more crimson stained, his body sliced into pieces bled. After mush flailing the glass blades completely disfigured him. He died. Two things gone. The baby startled, as was the mother and the process started over. Please don't leave us on edge, we'll get revenge.<br /><br />by: Eimile McIlnay 1983TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-66778664240659649202009-07-16T07:51:00.003-07:002012-03-02T11:56:08.652-08:00I Don’t Like You Anymore<span style="font-style:italic;">I wrote this way back in the day when I was a sophomore in High School. Stumbling across your website, I figured it would be fun to give it a go at "getting it published". (If you must know, I wrote it as a "break-up poem"; yes, I took myself that seriously!)</span><br />
<br />
I Don’t Like You Anymore:<br />
<br />
I had a dream yesterday.<br />
Well, I mean, last night…<br />
But you understand okay?<br />
It happened just after our fight.<br />
The one where you were wrong,<br />
And I was right.<br />
<br />
I was dreaming that you were dying.<br />
And, no, I wasn’t crying.<br />
I had pushed you into this giant blender.<br />
You got all messed up, like in that fender-bender. (Remember?)<br />
<br />
Then your relatives came over to celebrate…<br />
I felt close to them for the first time ever – fate?<br />
<br />
I can now go on with my life.<br />
Over with all this strife.<br />
…But I’m still talking to you.<br />
Even though you’ve been turned into something… for the dogs to chew.<br />
<br />
<br />
By: Anon.TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-89641726197360909492009-07-16T07:51:00.001-07:002009-07-16T07:51:28.309-07:00I AM ALONE AND NO ONE UNDERSTANDS MY PAINI can't escape from this place,<br />All I see is your face,<br />You left me in the rain,<br />Alone and insane.<br /><br />My insides writhe like a tempestuous sea,<br />I am drowning in what was once you and me.<br />How can this reality be?<br /><br />I can't look at myself,<br />I store my tear drops on a shelf.<br />They've gathered dust,<br />And my heart has begun to rust.<br /><br />Leave me to be,<br />On the tempestuous sea.<br />Because you will never see,<br />We were meant to be.<br /><br />By: ShannonTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-35035611266788187692009-07-16T07:49:00.000-07:002009-09-20T10:41:25.913-07:00The Saddest StoryI know of a story<br />that would take all smiles away<br /><br />I Could Tell The Saddest Story<br />and just break hearts with what i have to say<br /><br />I Have The Saddest Story<br />of the man whose love wouldn't stay<br /><br />I Could Tell Our Story<br />That ended last may<br /><br />This is the saddest story<br />That no man would trade<br /><br />The Saddest Story,<br />look at what we have made.<br /><br /><br />written by Dakota Dunn age 18TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-77627352025956391722009-03-27T07:38:00.000-07:002009-03-27T08:00:17.154-07:00All Apologies<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NG_p4HSHxrk&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NG_p4HSHxrk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />My dear TeenAngstPoetry.com fans, I must apologize to you. I have been a bad blogger. I have neglected this site and for that I am sorry.<br /><br />TeenAngstPoetry.com began nearly 9 years ago in the winter of 2000, back before many of us even knew what a blog was. The site had its heyday in the early 00s and was meta blogged all over the interweb, this coincided with <a href="http://www.teenangst.ca">live comedy shows</a> and both resulted in the publication of the anthology <a href="http://teenangst.ca/book/">Teen Angst: A Celebration of REALLY BAD Poetry</a>. Then there were tours, live theatre shows and even my solo show. It's been a wonderful journey, to be sure.<br /><br />Sadly though, sometime in 2006 (or 2007) the original computer which TeenAngstPoetry.com was created on - some ancient Linux box system in the basement of my parents house- died and it took hundreds of glorious Teen Angst Poetry to its grave. Since no one could remember the original code the site had been created on (yes this was very pre-blog sites) I attempted to reinvent the site on blogger. I have since become more active in acting and writing which left this baby neglected. Nowadays archival sites like this are a dime-a-dozen and I have simply fallen behind the times, without the finances to make this site as fancy-dancy as it originally was.<br /><br />As I am currently in the midst of completing a Masters Degree I am not able to post as often as I'd like to, but please keep e-mailing your Teen Angst Poems to teenangstpoet(at)gmail.com and I will get to them as often as I can.<br /><br />I hope that you will continue to enjoy the Teen Angst Poetry on this site. I believe it is a wonderful reflection of our dramatic adolescent emotions and something we can all learn from. Please keep laughing at yourself and especially your hilarious teenage creations. If you are a teenager I know you may just relate to the poems you'll find here and hopefully find comfort in the fact that someone else does understand your pain.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br /><br /><a href="http://www.Sarabynoe.com">Sara Bynoe</a><br /><br />Teen Angst the show can been seen in Vancouver and London. Check out <a href="http://www.TeenAngst.ca">www.TeenAngst.ca</a> for full info.TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-30103453466528541142009-03-27T07:32:00.000-07:002009-03-27T07:38:15.471-07:00SHOW UPDATESTeen Angst "the show" has now officially separated from TeenAngstPoetry.com. For all show information please check out <a href="http://www.TeenAngst.ca">www.TeenAngst.ca</a><br /><br />TeenAngstPoetry.com will still continue to be the worlds first online database of teen angst poetry circa 2000. Please continue to send in your poetry and it will be updated as soon as possible. <br /><br />Now on with the show info:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHZBUGsjJi6bFURBBJrjlPvIbDK2K8asD-HO6qwRZMw-MjXrakxVPeiVE3adOQ_ehrAWaG8EbJbNxPlDv8MBqDOX-3dCYBYWx6N9eGtcq4YZ4OTv21s9xw3WVIen6X4hVm8WiIhPk000/s1600-h/Teen+Angst+Flyer+May+4+2009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHZBUGsjJi6bFURBBJrjlPvIbDK2K8asD-HO6qwRZMw-MjXrakxVPeiVE3adOQ_ehrAWaG8EbJbNxPlDv8MBqDOX-3dCYBYWx6N9eGtcq4YZ4OTv21s9xw3WVIen6X4hVm8WiIhPk000/s320/Teen+Angst+Flyer+May+4+2009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317875746104078962" /></a><br />TEEN ANGST in LONDON, UK <br /><br />Monday, MAY 4, 2009<br />What: As part of the new Monday show <a href="http://www.myspace.com/bookclubboutique">The Book Club Boutique</a><br />Where: At ‘Dick’s Bar’- The Green Fingernail,<br />Address: 23 Romilly Street, Soho, London<br />When: 7-8.30 pm<br />How Much: Free Entry!<br /><br />Get digging through your old journals and see me on stage for some international TEEN ANGST! Email sarabynoe(at)gmail.com if you’ve got something to share!<br /><br /><br />TEEN ANGST is still running in VANCOUVER, BC, CANADA<br /><br />The Second Tuesday of EVERY Month!<br /><br />Hosted by Jane Stanton<br />Where: The Railway Club, 579 Dunsmuir Street Vancouver MAP<br />When: The Second Tuesday of Every Month<br />Dates: MARCH 10, APRIL 14, MAY 12, JUNE 9, JULY 14 etc.<br />Time: Show is from 6:30- 8:30 pm sharp!<br />Tickets: $7 at the door or FREE if you bring something to read- come early and check in the door and with host Jane Stanton to book your spot or email sarabynoe(at)gmail.com to reserve your spot.TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-3920254296190719502009-03-27T07:28:00.000-07:002009-03-27T07:30:55.654-07:00Mulitple Angst PoetryMy name is Lisa Cashley, I wrote all three of these poems over a short period of time in which i broke up with a violent boyfriend and then had to abort the baby we had concieved together. I found it helpful to write a poem about the loss and then I don't know really I suppose it just became an addictive way to let it all out. I think either "life sucks and i want to die", "I am alone and no-one understands my pain" or "more than like poems"<br /> <br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">You!</span><br /> <br />I’ll dry my tears<br />I don’t need your arms<br />I don’t need your hold<br />I can do this alone<br />You weren’t there,<br />You don’t know how it feels<br />You don’t want to be here<br />You should go…leave.<br /> <br />My heart was broken<br />My eyes did cry<br />Not for you<br />For it.<br />For the loss<br />For the pain<br />For the life<br />For the name<br />For Baby.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"> <br />So young</span><br /> <br /> <br />These bruises bare no image of you,<br />My mind passing over that night<br />What night<br />Those nights<br />Over and over<br />Again and again<br />No stopping<br />Until I fell to limp to fight back<br />Scarred, scared, helpless.<br /> <br />A baby,<br />So young, me.<br />So alone,<br />No-one<br />Not even you<br />Dad…I don’t know how,<br />But yes. A call<br />A cry for help, you’re not there.<br />A want, a need, a hunger,<br />A joy<br />A life<br />A child<br />Taken away<br />Just like that.<br />No care, no love, no memory<br />Dead!<br /> <br />Nothing<br />Not you, not it<br />Just me<br />Alone again<br />This time for ever<br />Alone<br />Me.<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">A never ending prayer</span><br /> <br />1, 2, 3<br />I won’t stop counting,<br />The weeks<br />The months<br />The years<br /><br />Always on my mind<br />In peace<br />In bliss<br />In happiness<br />You’ll be<br /> <br />A never ending prayer<br />Of sadness<br />Of joy<br />Of pain<br />How suddenly you left me<br /> <br />It’s ok, don’t cry,<br />I’m here<br />I’m sorry<br />You’ll always be in my heart.<br />I’m sad<br />You’re gone<br />I’m happy<br />You’re mine<br />You’re Baby<br />I’m Mum<br /> <br />I love you.TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-64049823113748791552009-03-27T07:27:00.002-07:002009-03-27T07:28:24.028-07:00Untilted Political 15 year oldI've got a poem I found that I wrote when I was 15. I guess you'd be able to put it under the "Political Action" category:<br /><br />Where's your leader?<br />Where's your martyr?<br />Where's your savior great?<br /><br />All made to fool,<br />To pursue,<br />To be used as a bait.<br /><br />What do you owe?<br />For whom do you work?<br />Whose gilded feet do you kiss?<br /><br />The sweat on you brow<br />Is the heavy reminder<br />Of the life you lost and, surely, will miss.<br /><br /><br />To your front,<br />To your back,<br />To your right and your left.<br /><br />Nowhere to run,<br />Nowhere to hide,<br />So you give in to your death.<br /><br />You cover your ears,<br />You blindfold your eyes,<br />You don't let anything get in nor out.<br /><br />You zip up your mouth<br />And you stifle your heart.<br />Don't even know what your work is about.<br /><br /><br />But you don't have to back off.<br />You don't have to give in.<br />It's your life don't put a price on it.<br /><br />So that<br />Maybe the next generation<br />Will be a true diverse nation,<br />No box in which they'll have to fit.<br /><br />By: EsterTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-57479180306638454912009-03-27T07:27:00.001-07:002009-03-27T07:27:40.342-07:00UntitledNo one understands me <br />everything I say or do is twisted and confused <br />everything is pointless<br /><br />My life is a ruin.<br />My life is a prison.<br />My life is full of disappointment.<br /><br />No one likes me <br />they all pretend <br />they all are fake<br /><br />My life is a ruin.<br />My life is a prison.<br />My life is an endless pit of disappointment.<br />I am sick <br />of this whole world <br />of the constant struggle to please others<br /><br />My life is a ruin.<br />My life is a prison.<br /><br />My life is overflowing with disappointment.<br />I can’t wait <br />to finally be free <br />to finally be alive<br /><br />My life is a ruin.<br />My life is a prison.<br />My life is over.<br /><br />By: Margret HooverTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-81775467276823672322009-03-27T07:26:00.001-07:002009-03-27T07:26:52.950-07:00UntitledSurrounded by caring and wealth, she cries<br />In these years it’s so hard to be strong.<br />“Everything’s perfect; my life satisfies<br />And that’s why it all feels so wrong.”<br /> <br />I say, “Stop chasing the grief you’re after,<br />There’s always a high to be found.<br />Your life is full of smiling and laughter,<br />But all you can see is the ground.”<br /> <br />She’s the most exceptional girl in the world<br />She could climb a mountain if she tried.<br />Now that she’s older, her heart has unfurled<br />And shown all the beauty inside.<br /> <br />All that she sees is what is above her.<br />Rather, I wish she could see that I love her.<br /><br />By: AnonymousTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-70276243109610085142009-03-27T07:25:00.001-07:002009-03-27T07:25:55.268-07:00"Playing doesn't = Barbies and Toy Cars“Go see what he wants for lunch tomorrow” that’s what I remember grandma saying<br /><br />He would tell me and ask me to come back upstairs, “Grandma won’t mind if I play with you for a little, you are my girlfriends’ niece after all”<br /><br />I run down the stairs like a good little 5 year old girl and tell Grandma that I’m playing with uncle Fabian for awhile,<br /><br />“Okay have fun, I’m taking a nap”, she responds<br /><br />So I run back up stairs and I wonder if he knew she would go to sleep and he would be safe…<br /><br />Now that I think about it, he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to play with me but I thought Barbie’s and toy cars not rape.<br /><br />Everyday Monday through Friday after school for a year and half we “played” while Grandma napped.<br /><br />No one knew because the punishment would be worse then “playing”.<br /><br />He called it a magic trick as he finished on my stomach.<br /><br />Tears falling down my cheeks as I tell this to you,<br /><br />Can you understand the pain when you didn’t even notice when I said Grandmas’ wasn’t fun anymore?<br /><br />No you will never understand, yet you turn off the TV when I walk in the room, for you think it hurts for me to watch “To Catch A Predator”<br /><br />Well it doesn’t for I went through it and those girls didn’t. <br /><br />They are the lucky ones not me. <br /><br />You say I’m lucky because it could have been much worse, he could have killed me, or if I was older got me pregnant.<br /><br />Yes I’m oh so lucky because I was only fucking 5 years old, oh so lucky to be growing up and learning oh so soon that life can be unfair to the young and innocent. <br /><br />I was 5 and learned the hard way, yet you say I’m lucky. <br /><br />Was I lucky when I was 17 and it happened again because I told “my close friend” no and he wouldn’t take no for an answer? <br /><br />No I wasn’t lucky for I may still be alive but part of me has died inside, my trust!<br /><br />In you and in everyone!<br /><br />By: Keirsten D.TEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-26546191666793713842009-03-27T07:24:00.000-07:002009-03-27T07:25:06.032-07:00AloneI walk into school,<br />you stare as I pass,<br />you single me out,<br />to the back of the class,<br /><br />silently judging,<br />your stares tell your thoughts,<br />the odd little snigger,<br />my head, it distorts,<br /><br />I know that I’m "different",<br />but is that so wrong?<br />I don’t follow the crowd,<br />I sing my own song,<br /><br />I’m not like you,<br />I’m not a clone,<br />I am unique,<br />I am alone<br /><br /><br />By: BethTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-83324628145519282982009-03-27T07:23:00.000-07:002009-03-27T07:24:28.438-07:00Now you see meI was hidden in front of you.<br />I stood there but you did not see me.<br />I waited.<br />I stood still.<br />You looked past me.<br />I just wanted you to see me.<br />Unable to move, to speak,<br />I start to bleed.<br />Pale in death,<br />Now you see me.<br /><br />by AaronTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-84892432745861201402008-12-22T05:28:00.000-08:002008-12-22T05:29:10.511-08:00Mona Lisa SmileYou tell me to smile<br />I need to smile more often<br />I suppress the roll of my eyes<br />but keep my lips pursed down in defiance<br /><br />For I am not your puppet<br />Nor your marionette nor your little drummer boy<br />Nor god forbid<br />Your barbie doll<br /><br />And though you press my buttons,<br />Please remember that you do not pull my strings.<br /><br />For what do you know of my sadness?<br />Of the things I see or feel or think<br />on lonely nights and dreadful days<br />for which there is no sunrise or set<br /><br />But one long, hellish today<br />for which the skies are forever overcast<br />insides are always squirming<br />And your shoes never match.<br /><br />Barred within this nightmare by the torture insomnia<br />And you command me to smile.<br /><br />You tell me I need to smile<br />But where is the substance in a smile?<br />But lies and cons and deception of the trickiest sort<br />masked behind sincerity of chemically-whitened teeth<br /><br />Who are you to dictate my disposition<br />But to preserve your own comfort<br />as you rest your head<br />on down-feather pillows?<br /><br />I do not drag you into my sorrow<br />So why must you me into your ignorance?<br /><br />Ask me to smile when children are starving<br />as we sit around Thanksgiving dinner getting fat off our own gluttony<br />Paying money that can save hundreds of lives<br />on diet plans and liposuction.<br /><br />Ask me to smile at my own good fortune<br />The roof overhead and clothes on my back<br />and food in my belly to help me sleep<br />But it does not sedate my conscience.<br /><br />And when you tell me to smile<br />That same conscience hurls up bile<br />and the acid burns my brain so bad<br />I beg God for a lobotomy<br /><br />Choking on my own thought vomit<br />making my throat choke and my eyes water<br />with tears.<br />Not for my pain, but for you, and your ignorance.<br /><br />You tell me I'd be so much prettier if I would just smile<br />As I consider how pretty you'd look buried six feet underground<br />Then perhaps I shall find a reason to smile.<br /><br />By: Eileen CTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-66648709055402684862008-09-30T05:17:00.000-07:002008-09-30T05:18:58.158-07:00BumbershootHey, Im just writing you to say that your show on the 30th at Bumbershoot was unbelievably amazing. <br /><br />I knew it had to be spectacular with a name like Fuck Off and Die: Tales in Teen Angst Poetry, but yeah. Possibly the best show of Bumbershoot this year. <br /><br />I was also wondering if, by chance, at some point in the future you would be coming back this way to Seattle. Because if you are I would really really like to know, cause Ive been spreadin' the word and people 'round here definitly want to see your show now. Well, yup. What's needed to be said has been said.<br /><br />FUCK THE FLAVA CREW! <br /><br />Nick Jones from MySpace<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />-Sadly Nick I am in the UK for at least a year. Check out <a href="http://www.sarabynoe.com">www.SaraBynoe.com </a>for all of my upcoming performance dates and locals... as of now there are none. :(</span><br />-SaraTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9142782436791625392.post-59807028162746399392008-09-21T12:15:00.002-07:002008-09-21T12:16:35.303-07:00My blackheadsThese blackheads on my skin forcing themself deeper<br />i am a thick tar of unholy thoughts,<br />my mind is savage and twisted i think of death and destruction,<br />although my passive side is of a clownish figure<br />i cant put it any otherway i live to please others.<br /> <br />My blackheads slowly grow and pulsate,<br />My dark thoughts race,<br />my mind used to be filled with suicide and hatred,<br />all i can see now, myself is hurting you,the unsightly scum<br />who are currently populating this filthy fucking earth.<br /> <br />my body is now smothered in these filthy black spots<br />school friends are the worst,they make you try to feel like shit<br />even though many people dont realise.<br />haha your so fucking hilarious,<br />i didnt realise what you were till now<br /> <br />the boils of pulsating blackness,<br />i can no longer breathe without nearly crying<br />i scream i cry but nothing improves.<br />my knuckles crack into your skull as i sit there;<br />happily among the fairys,in this pointless class<br /> <br />Hot white putrid is now pouring all around.<br />i scream,shout,cry all in one<br />i cant take no more you stupid sack of shit!<br />maybe if you opened your eyes you would've seen<br />all that i've seen<br />over these past 4 years...<br /><br />By: William JohnsTEEN ANGST POETRYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18038618938937121669noreply@blogger.com0