Poetry Dump & Optional Critique

Sparrows > Pigeons.

No matter if I am loud,

My voice is spoken over by the crowd.



Until the crowd is filled by people like me

I do not believe I will ever be free

For freedom is a thing of birds,

Flying high, singing words

that people hear, praise and rise

to protect the creatures of the skies.

Yet if I am a bird I must be a pigeon,

because no matter how loud I sing no one will listen.

Ignoring my attempts speak

they stare at me as if I reek

Once, pigeons were bred to be our friends,

now they are despised until they meet their end.

In cities, crowds of pigeons are only fed

by the kindest of hearts that understand.

Instead people love the songs of sparrows,

Aggressive, invasive and loved like archers like arrows.

For the people prefer the prettier songs,

No matter what the singer has done wrong.

Crowds of sparrows are enjoyed,

No one ever seems to be annoyed

by the songs of the birds they prefer,

the lesser voices will never be heard.

And so the sparrows swallow

Pigeons’ sorrow,

All forgotten

By tomorrow.

Even if you can fly

It wont stop the need to cry.

For freedom is a thing of birds,

Flying high, singing words

that people hear and ignore,

I wish people liked pigeons more.

I don't mind whether or not critique is given, but I'd love to hear what people think about the poem. Constructive criticism is welcome too.

A rough draft I just made

After all, it's all my fault. (It's a cycle, is it not?)




I’m already getting behind again and I know it’s all my fault.

After all it’s a cycle, I’m alright and suddenly I’m not.

Now I’m falling off into the rabbit hole, the snowball is piling up.

My workload isn’t getting smaller, and I don’t have the energy to step up.

I only have myself to blame cause I had every chance to fix my mistakes

but instead I’d rather procrastinate although I know it raises the stakes.

Why do I feel so *** drained when I’ve done nothing with my brain today?

Why can I play games yet I can’t bring myself to write my name on a page?

Why do I still feel burnt-out when I’ve done nothing but rest?

Why can’t I get rid of this burning feeling in my chest?

I could fix it all by sunrise if I pull an all-nighter,

Yet I doubt that it would make my grade any higher.

I’ve dug my grave now I have to lie in it,

It’s big enough for an entire town to fit.

I’ve made this mess myself and everyone can tell.

If only I could stop time, have time to rest my mind.

Deadlines are coming soon, I doubt I’ll ever see it through.

I don’t even give a *** about collage cause my mental health is garbage.

After all it’s a cycle, I’m alright and suddenly I’m not.

I only have myself to blame cause I had every chance to fix my mistakes

but instead I’d rather procrastinate although I know it raises the stakes.

Why do I feel so *** drained when I’ve done nothing with my brain today?

Why can I play games yet I can’t bring myself to write my name on a page?

Why do I still feel burnt-out when I’ve done nothing but rest?

Why can’t I get rid of this burning feeling in my chest?

I’ve always just been average anyway,

it’s not like I’ve ever had straight A’s.

I’ve never been good at anything that’s not handmade,

Unless it’s art or band I’ll never make the grade.

I accidentally forgot to remove some curse words in the poem I just posted and I don’t know how to edit the post, can someone help me?