Piercing poetry?

Question:

Piercing poetry?

I am looking for some poetry on piercing and stuff. And i can't find any on google? Anybody know any websites? I wanted to show my mom a poem about getting one and what it means to me to get one, i wrote one myself, but i want to show her more. And mine sucks. So please helllp!

Best Answer - Chosen by Asker: I searched online and found some.. here are a few from the site below.

Body Expression
By Alyssa Pingree

Expressions of how I feel,
about myself and about my life.
Many colors, many designs,
With many different meanings.

On my lip, nose or ear,
Anywhere I would like.
Big or small,
that's for me to choose,
It is my body and for my use

Freedom To Be Me
By Katie

Why do you look at me like that?
I'm not a freak because of what I've done.
Is it not on my own free will that I ink and pierce my skin?
It is not your body that is being affected,
So why do you look at me so strange?
This is how I express myself,
and show that I am set apart.
This is what makes me different and original.

Ink and holes
By Shelly Carlos

Piercings and ink are a form of expression.
Some do it for art some for aggression.
The feeling of the needle pressure on my skin,
to describe how it feels I cant even begin.
The piercings you get when your guy makes you mad
never regret, they look good so be glad!
Whether you do it for fun or just for the art.
It shows who you are and that's different by far.
Be original with you body and do what you like
get that ink the loop or even a spike.
What ever you get do it for you
not because someone else wanted you to.

I love my piercings
By Nicole

I love my piercings, oh yes I do;
My rook, my navel, my earlobes too.
They give me pleasure all night and day;
For my whole life in my body they'll stay!

The Art Within...
By Richard Powell

Deep inside there is a yearning,
Primal instincts steady churning,
Tribal flames ceremonially burning,
Our eager minds continuously learning.

Our flesh, our body, our mind, our soul,
We pierce our skin, to leave a hole,
We probe our minds and make them think,
We color our body with pins and ink.

Art forms as old as Earth herself,
Knowledge of primitives, we treasure as wealth.
With pain we gain, with needle and pin,
Expressions of ourselves from deep within.

We cut, we scar, we bleed, we heal,
Happy with ourselves it makes us feel.
Our ink is our badges, our piercings our pride,
Body art is our expression, of our person inside.

Deep inside there is a yearning,
Primal instincts steady churning,
Tribal flames ceremonially burning,
Our eager minds continuously learning.