Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Funny Depression Poems | Funny Poems About Depression

These Funny Depression poems are examples of Funny poems about Depression. These are the best examples of Funny Depression poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lucila

So I walked into my local supermarket
to buy my weekly shipment of Kit Kat bars,
Cinnamon Toast Crunch,
and Ovaltine powder mix.

As I shake off the snow on my fake Timberland boots,
my skin,
coated in frozen animation,
thaws into warmth’s teardrops from
the supermarket’s 75 degree vents.

This moist sense of happiness was quickly interrupted
when I heard Wilson Phillips, “Hold On”
over the PA system.

Thankfully, the cutlery isle was just to my left. 
So, now, I had plans!

But, before I could commit felony’s song,
I saw her.

A Portuguese goddess
with a strut that can ruin a man’s dignity.

She had Autobahn curves,
dark brown curls of hair & visuals,
and thick flesh meat that even Vegans would envy.

Her face lacked Maybelline coated misapprehension.
Thank God!
Cause I never did like clowns.

After staring longingly at her,
like a crack head with impulsive eyes upon a broken/unlabeled bag of baby powder,
she breezed past my stifled posture and clocked in to work.

She didn’t even get a chance to smell my $500 cologne called “Piece of Me”.

So with new-found urges to grab all my groceries,
like a burglar who really has to pee,
I rush to express checkout. 

There she is.

Her register beeps in coupon lady’s rhapsody,
while my register needs a cleanup on Isle 9.

Now it’s my turn.

With girlish inner-screams of boy-band intensity,
I say, “Hi”.

She scans my apples, while I scan her melons.
The melons that the customer ahead of me didn’t want…
…they were on sale.

Go fig.

As if she read my mind,
she asks,
“Are you feeling warm now?”

“All I want is to be the heat in your moment”,
which I almost said.

But, “Now I am”, is uttered.

As she smiled with seductive demure,
she handed me my receipt
with her phone number on back.

As I left the market,
I began to get cold again.

These winds of change
became gusts of numbness.

I locked myself out of my heart.

I turned around to go back inside.

Only to discover, 
she didn’t have the key.

© Drake J. Eszes


Details | Personification | |

A Magic Adventure Of Peter The Pan

A Magic Adventure of Peter The Pan/AKA Peta The Fwying Pan

Peter was a fine young pan with blue eyes
Like all the other pans his age, except,
Peter could not yet pronounce 'R's'--he tried...
And 'L's'...so hard he tried. He even wept.

School had been especially hard today
Peter had been poked, teased, and made fun of
More this day than any other school day...
And the ride home took so long on the bus.

When he came through the door, his mama knew
"Why the long face? Are you hurt? Are you sick?"
"No ma'am," said Peter, "Just tiwad fwom schoow".
"Some cookies and milk may just be the trick!"

Mama said, as Peter sat down to eat.
By now, everyone was gathered around
To hear of his day--and sneak a treat.
So he told them his story...and they frowned.

"How can someone be so cruel! Makes no sense!
You are the smartest and brightest of pans!"
Said Debbie Dishwasher-- then cycle rinsed.
The rest agreed and came up with a plan.

"Okay! It's agreed!" said Bob the blender.
"You need magic!--THAT--we can render!

Charles Chalice and Gail Goblet--my dear
Bring what you have, for this magic milk shake.
Michael Magic Grill...you go get us some beer
And also get Peter a great big steak!"

Then everyone sang together with cheer:
"A parr-ty! A parr-ty! It's a parr-ty!
We are all...having...a magic--parr-ty!"

Everyone was busy, hust'ling around.
Tams the Golden Toaster was making toast.
Tex Texas Tea Pot hummed a whist'ling sound.
David Dish and Sara Spoon danced the most,
Except for Marlon Mop--he could 'get down'!

Carol Crock Pot was fixing up the Soup.
Russell Rolling Pin had rolled out a crust
For a magic pie with love from the coop.
Joann Juicer made fresh smoothies--a must!
Suddenly...a sound was heard on the stoop...

"Who could that be? It's nearly midnight!"
Said Cyndi Chandlier all bright with light.
Christopher Cutting-board called, "I'll go see!"
Vienna Vaccume said, "Not without me!"

"Wait!" Debbie Dishwasher cried from the sink.
"Let's look at more options. We need to think.
It could be someone in need of a meal...
Or, it's a burglar--come here to steal!"

"Everyone else! Quickly! Hide inside me
Until we find out who that sound might be!"

deborah burch©
5/23/2012

*****end part I...conclusion in part II




Details | Free verse | |

Curved Lips

Sometimes I laugh while reading in the library
Sometimes librarians come over and tell me to be quiet
Sometimes they ask if everything is okay
And always always I answer "yes"


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

God Answers Aunt Kate-repost

For the last few days
     her depression had weighed
          heavy, a thick woolen shroud,
              her thoughts thickened by darkening clouds,
                    in an endless tunnel the sides closing in like a narrowing funnel.

She sat, immobile, staring 
      through the window of the house she'd built with such caring.
                
It'd started as a shack by a pond on some land
                           and she'd hammered and built it
                                               with help from no man.

She kept adding on, room after room,
      as if she, too, suffered from the Winchester doom.

Eccentric, they'd call her, if she had any bread,
      but, since she was poor, she was "soft in the head."

A tiny little woman, emaciated, so thin,
      she was not much more than frail bones under skin.
Yes, she was surely a pitiful thing,
      shoulder blades jutting like primordial wings.

Like an old phonograph with its needle stuck,
          she prayed for death, so far with no luck.

Suddenly there came a tremendous din,
         like demons scratching on her roof of old tin.

Startled, heart pounding in her bird-cage chest,
             she was suddenly afraid of a cardiac arrest.

Armed with her twelve gauge she crept to the door,
         a thousand claws scratching, louder than before.

She'd always been brave and her life had been hard,
           so, gun at the ready, she stepped into the yard.

Locked and loaded and aimed at the roof,
        she feared for her life, to tell you the truth.

(Not minutes ago, she was begging for death,
         now she was worried this might be her last breath.)

Then she looked at the roof and let out a gasp,
         the rifle fell heavily from her stunned grasp.

There on the roof and thick in the trees,
          was a sight that made her weak in the knees.

HUNDREDS of VULTURES all eye-balling her,
        clacking their beaks as they seemed to concur.

Aunt Kate started laughing and laughed 'til she cried,
        she hooped and she hollered, holding on to her sides.

The birds, having reasoned she'd make less than a bite,
                  stretched out their wings and took off in flight.

Her depression has lifted and, I heard a rumor,
       that her life had been saved by God's sense of humor. 

********Many thanks to Aunt Kate for this wonderful true story.**************


Details | Light Poetry | |

AMY WINEHOUSE-Should have went to rehab


They tried to make you go to Rehab...
you said...
                NO!
                    NO!!
                       NO!!!
Shoulda' packed your bags ta' Rehab...
you wouldn't 
                 GO!
                     GO!!
                        GO!!!
  
 boo-hoo hot-mess
        Wine-HORSE


Details | Rhyme | |

Shameful Morning

not sure how she got here 
only know she needs to leave

underneath the stranger 
my arm numb; asleep, 
mouth a desert.
a hundred dead cigarettes dance my tongue dry 

princess of night 
exposed by light. 
get me out of this;
another dreaded morning mess. 

bed broken
along with my will. 
I swore never again; 
the lie is half the thrill.

~JSLambert


Details | Blank verse | |

Love Song

Here’s what I’m thinking now 
at the end of the world: 

There are no atheists in foxholes— 
no theists in politics. 
If knowledge is power, 
and power corrupts, 
then why did I bother reading you, Cicero? 

Does it matter that I didn't’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

There’s a poetry reading tonight 
whence I’I'll chide other poets 
who don’t sit alone. 
I won’t bring up death 
but I might have to breathe, 
even into a mike 
and mouth lines to get a snap or a boo 
maybe even a wince or two. 

Just maybe I’I'll talk about love 
and how following your heart is like following a dog— 
it only leads to vittles and (female dogs). 
But how many times have I used that line 
since the story I wrote about you, 
a witty and sexy and fictional you? 
Most likely I’I'll read something tonight about you. 

I won’t recite it from memory 
because I don’t think about you that much anymore, 
not even when I search for my socks in your drawer 
or when I put on the scratchy sweaters you give me, 
horizontally striped to bring out my eyes? 

I don’t remember your eyes 
except they are blue. 
And I don’t remember you, 
not even when I smell cucumber and apple, 
not even when I sleep on my side of the bed 
or when you walk through the door 
happy to see me; 
even then I don’t remember you. 
Does it matter that I don’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

How about a few one-liners 
for the end of days?— 

Depression is self-awareness, 
which you’d know if you were; 
I need Ritalin to listen to you, 
Lithium to hug you, 
Viagra to feel you, 
and Valium to sleep. 

All you need 
is me standing there, waiting at home 
with turns of phrase and word plays 
telling you about why I hate Ayn Rand 
but want to buy as much as I can 
and how I love celebrity gossip 
and detest poetry slams 
and find rhyming trite 
except when I am. 

Hypocrites can still be right, 
which you do understand 
because you nod at my nonsense 
about fighting the man. 

But now, at the end of all things— 
I’m speechless and witless and pointlessly well-read, 
and you’re just sitting there, smiling 
asking me to pass the bread.


Details | Bio | |

Pseudomorph

I get a kick outta the writes I see,
So intellectual, how can that be?
I skipped two grades,
Was forced to take IQ tests again,
Cause no one as dumb as me,
Could possibly produce such a score, you see
Got 100% on regents exams,
Passed college entrance tests
Half drunk and dirty of dress
Cause I was up with friends
drinkin' and carousing like the rest,
And, Lord knows how, but I assure,
I aced the test, and even more,
To what was then considered
"The Poor-Man's Harvard"
I cruised through that as well,
No one was gona stop this Bell

But IQ tests, and scholastic grade,
Never has one, of a man be made
I still do get confused,
About how to wear two shoes,
My brain may be book-smart,
But comin' from the heart,
I've trusted when I really shouldn't
Was skeptical when imprudent

So here's this IQ wiz,
Don't know just who he is,
And street smart as a cat,
Caught in Dr. Zeuss's hat.

So teach your children well,
don't grow up to be like Tom Bell



Details | Free verse | |

My Boredom Disease

Like sick allergies, 
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE

Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!

Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination ! 


Details | Rhyme | |

The Doctor Is A Dead Man Walking

Bob had a special talent
That only worked in his men’s store.
He had ‘clothing ESP’.
He knew what his customers wanted…and more.

When customer would come into his store
Bob would invariably say, 
“Hello. I'm Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

And he was always right,
Never missed a color, fabric, style or size.
He even knew the necessary alterations.
Customers couldn’t believe their ears and eyes.

Meanwhile, in another part of town,
Joe had a pounding, relentless migraine
For every minute for more than five years,
It had driven him near insane.

He’d lost his job to the pain.
Then, he lost his wife.
He had lost a lot of weight and rarely slept.
Yes, his was a miserable life.

And, of course,  sex was out of the question…
Even a little self-abuse.
There was nothing left for Joe but pain.
He felt his life was of no use.

So, Joe went to his doctor.
“Doc, please help me end this pain.
Give me something to make me sleep
And never wake up again.”

“You know I can’t assist your suicide.”,
Then he looked sad, perhaps ashamed.
“I never dreamed it would last five years,
But I know how to end the pain.”

“You can make it go away?!
Tell me, Doc!  What’s the word?”
“I’ll have to remove your testicles.”
Was the last thing that Joe heard.

But…when he came to, it struck him.
Sex was out of the question anyway;
But he might enjoy his meals again,
And he could sleep for days.

“Please check me in, Doc.
This opportunity I cannot shirk.”
So, the doctor removed his testicles.
He did his very best work.

A few days later, Joe waddled along,
Headache free and feeling pretty nice;
But every attractive woman he saw 
Reminded him of his sacrifice.

He decided it was appropriate
To do something nice for himself for a change.
So, he went into a travel agency;
And a six month cruise he arranged.

As he left the travel agency,
He was excited, feeling ready to go;
But for such a glorious adventure,
He would need new clothes.

As he walked along, he saw Bob’s Men's Store.
He walked in, only to hear Bob say,
“Hello.  I’m Bob. Don’t say a word.
I already know what you need today.”

“How could you know?” asked Joe.
“It’s a gift.  I don’t know how, but I do.
You’ve suffered five years with an ailment,
Found relief, so now you’re taking a cruise.” 

Joe could not believe his ears.
How could this stranger possibly know?
"You're right! That's amazing!
And I'm going to need new clothes." 

Bob then laid out a fabulous wardrobe
All the right colors, fabrics, styles…and each size.
Joe was incredibly impressed.
He could hardly believe his ears and eyes.

“How do you like the wardrobe?”
“It’s wonderful!”  Bob could see that Joe was pleased.
“Now,” said Bob, “What about undergarments;
You know…shorts and tees?

Let’s see…medium crew neck tees, all cotton.
I believe that you prefer white….
And jockey shorts, all cotton…. 34s.
Yes, I'm sure that’s right.”

Joe beamed, “You’re an amazing talent
And I just this second realized,
You've laid out this entire wardrobe
And only missed one size.”

Bob, surprised by his mistake, asked, “Really?
What did I miss?  I did my best for you.”
“Well…you’re right.” said Joe, “I do wear Jockeys,
But…well…I wear 32s.

“Oh, no!” said Bob with an ugly grimace.
“That would be a serious mistake.
Thirty-twos would be too small, 
They would cramp your balls.
You’ll get migraine headaches.”


Details | Bio | |

Solitude: To Yoda, An Ode

Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.

Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.

Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.

Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.

My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.

Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.


Details | ABC | |

The Vent

im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition 
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
Situations
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
Simply put 
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time 
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time 
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
Fall
And I as I pull myself together 
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now

there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Poetic PRESCRIPTION:

                               NO REFILLS---Dr. P. Soupenstein
                               Rx *7563287      BEC 11/11/11      
Seems to me,
what you need 
for healing this condition...
is something real
you can feel
to ease this mean affliction

Patient please
accept from me
this poetry prescription:

      ( <_____PUSH & TURN_____> )

Take ONE positive poem
Read ORALLY 2 times BY MOUTH -----
Every 4-6 HOURS AS NEEDED for the pain 

Blues and belly aches will dissipate
resulting in healthy energy gains 

                  WARNING!!!
-Alcohol may intensify the effect of being drowsy 
attempting to read while operating machines... 
will cause you to drive lousy.


Details | List | |

I hate about you



 I hate the way you make me feel guilty about being jealous when other girls hit on you, 

 I hate the way you can go forever without even seeing or talking to me when your friends are around, 
but expect me to drop everything to talk to you when you want my attention.

I hate how you're so happy at times and I'm so sad, 

I hate how you treated me like *****but yet I'm the one feeling bad.

I hate how I feel so weak and you're so strong, 

I hate how you think you do no wrong.

I hate how you pretend that everythings okay, 

I hate how you took my innocence away and act sometimes like it ment nothing.

I hate how I feel so scared, 

I hate how I how fast I feel in love with you without a fighting chance.

I hate the way you look at me and just know when something is wrong.

I hate how everything we have means nothing to everybody else

I hate the way I feel inside, 

I hate the nights I spent alone and cried.

I hate how everything seems wrong, 

I hate the feeling of wanting to belong.

I hate how you're always in my head, 

I hate everything mean you have ever said.

I hate wondering how you really feel about me, 

I hate how you try to go out with certin friends you feel like you have to lie

I hate how when your job takes you away for long times I left with alone and want to do nothing but cry

I hate it how you can just come in and out of my life and feel like everything is alright
while I am the one that has to put up with the problems, family and drama every night


But most of all I hate the way I can't stop thinking about you, and I hate it even more because I know you know its true

All these thing don't make me really hate you, 
It just makes me lust you more an more and it feeds my wanting you right down to the core


Details | Rhyme | |

Flailin'

Flailin’,  flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.

Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?

Drives go right.  Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.

I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.

My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.

These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods.  

I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter.  My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.

Bogies & doubles...even triples... are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.

My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.

The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”

After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice.  You really should.”

Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.

So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Lyric | |

The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red 
of them all.
Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color,
just as wine.

She carved from the red scarf
from the middle
to the size of a Martini glass.

Then she carved one more glass,
and she kept carving 
till she fell asleep.

Yesterday
she saw her Beloved Moth 
flirting with a Younger Moth, 
carving together from a sweater
while she was getting busy,
carving in the shelves.

The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine
woolen wine, 
last night.
She drank lots, too much
for a Moth.
The Unhappy Moth got drunk
and fell asleep
on the red scarf,
unhidden
with a heart filled with peace.

She was not afraid no more. 
Now she could be seen easily,
laying on the scarf
and easily crushed.

The Unhappy Moth was not 
afraid of death no more,
at least, now she knew 
how wonderful the red scarfs are
and that they taste
like red wine.


Details | Rhyme | |

I Just Can't Win

I Just Can’t Win
I pay taxes all year long and still the IRS grins
Knowing any profits I make will go to them
Spending money on the lottery- a one in a million shot
Buying a hundred dollars in magazines but Publisher’s Clearing House never knocks
Slaving all day at mopping the floors and vacuuming the rugs
Then having four little ones drop their ice-cream with fudge
How about buying a new car-being so proud and delighted
Then driving off the lot having its value deflated
Having season tickets to the Chicago Cubs
Never to win a World Series and this really bugs
Being sick and going to the doctor is right
But when you have no insurance, the bill is out of sight
But the worst of all is entering this poetry contest
When knowing I just can’t win even though I do my best


Details | Free verse | |

Concealing a Battle

It’s happening again.
Red-hot Guerrillas breaching my porcelain surface,
Angry little bombs exploding, leaving
my land a red war zone,

And I can’t find Concealer,
who has gone A.W.O.L, deserted its place in line,
after Foundation, before Powder.
I send Hands to search the recesses of my desk,
the scattered costumes on my floor.
Their time bombs tick
And I need Concealer for this daily battle.

After the red formations attack my foundations,
they battle against Powder,
forcing my team back to expose my land;
blemished, riddled with unwanted lumps.
A wasteland uncovered,
and Concealer my only defence able to 
hide the scars, the age, this weakness.

I send on the second wave;
Foundations, Powder, Mascara – all charades to
distract the public from my flaws.
Reluctantly I slither out into their gaze,
Exposed,
praying my cover hides what the
snarling, ruthless army
strives to conquer: to
Unmask what I truly am.


Details | Free verse | |

Naked holes.

Imagine a life without holes.
An unstable world,a round figure of nothing.
A straight line,smells like ptomaine.
Holes are everywhere,white and black,
polychromatic,pretty and ugly.
Holes that you may fill,other you may not.
They can think,memorize,imagine.
Emotional holes,logical,positional,
in a chessboard,a second before a knight arrives.
Holes in my body,in your body,his or her,
screaming for pleasure,with or without morals.
Living there,breathe,judge the way you treat them.
A hole can kill you,can make you suffer.
They are in brains,in hearts.
In great losses.
When out of nowhere they are born,proud,
captivated eventually,died full of years.
Significant holes,in maps,in history.
They feed on hopes,feelings,aspirations,
organic,inorganic matters.
Holes reborn,only looked at us.
Naked.


Details | Free verse | |

JSA BLUES

Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Countless jobs for the unemployed. Just search and see. It must be true the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Take any job you can get. Work 80 hours a week. It's for your well being, the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. Take minimum wage if you must. That is all you are worth. You will thank us some day the papers say. This Government would not lie. Reject letter sent by post. Applications online ignored. Too old Too young. Inexperienced. Do not drive. It must be the JSA blues. I have the JSA blues This Government would not lie. The JSA blues. Government would not lie. JSA Blues. Would not lie. JSA blues. Not lie. JSA blues. LIE!


Details | Limerick | |

Quadruple Limerick-THE AUSTRALIAN DINGO

I raised an Australian dingo,
no name came to mind but Ringo;
he jumped on me,
ripped my clothes daily...
it costed me plenty of money!

Only once I left him alone;
good grief... my furniture was torn!
Oh, should I be mad...
or be kind instead?
I'll sleep over it for tonight!

All Ringo did was run, bark and howl,
mistaking a small cat for an owl;
They took him away
to the zoo today;
he'll whimper form his cage, not rest!

I'll take him back, lest he behaves;
his lesson he'll learn:  good manners!
Now, Ringo just stares
to earn forgiveness...
it's fun to play with him and laugh!


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

An Indirect Self Afflicted Tribulation: A Situation Never To Be

My lateness once more has caused me immediate damnation, and my unstable state, a product of my lost attention. Overcoming the limitation by doing three person's work at once resulted to a failed manipulation of compressing minutes' activities into seconds just to beat time and achieve punctuality. Reaching for the door with already aggravated emotions. In self caution, I knew something was still missing then I realized it's a stuff I cannot go without. Oh My God! This means, beginning all over again. A complication I most feared in a situation like this. My dwelling place now seem a mansion as even my bedroom has undergone exaggeration which at this moment isn't as accommodating as the habitation I once knew. Starring at the plain surface of the mirror Table gave no answers and already praying for the fruitful termination of this trying time, as I searched among the cosmetic items it harbours. My next location is obviously the wardrobe and even with the intense frustration I was still calm enough to suppress the friction with myself as I searched each and every pocket of my clothing which are all hanging in straight vertical position. And yet, my state gradually reaching exacerbation, cos' there is no answer. In milliseconds, my Pillows are in two corners of the room I prayed for any sort of temptation but not this as the bed calmly accepts my aggressive search of my item which suffers an ungodly abduction. The Investigation continues with a quick scan through my shoes, and finally leaving the room with no appreciation which now looks like a ghetto market of a third world country, a demotion I usually never allow, not until now. The larger sitting room just increased my retardation having hope of finding my "Precious" would be mere hallucination so therefore, I barely did much other than a mere Inspection. Yet, cannot find its location, which simply increased the heap of burning coal on my head. Already tired of exclaiming several holy Indignation careful flash back and calculations of my previous movements yielded no results. "check the Double Seater" was my last thought. And as I acted in submission to that command, the invaluable material surprisingly fell off my shirt My Car Keys!


Details | I do not know? | |

FEAR!!!!!

I RUN from FEAR.

I HUNT for FEAR.

I HIDE in FEAR.

I FIGHT cause of FEAR.

I'm FAR from you.

I'm SCARED cause of you.

You're the FEAR that I HUNT.

You're the FEAR that I FIGHT.

You're the FEAR that SCARED me for LIFE.

*Comment if you have any thought and if you like it. oh and some of the poems i write arn't 
always my feelings. their some times just to get through other people so they can have 
something to read that just fit's them.*

                                              -Angel4eva23


Details | Senryu | |

House of WEED

Aromas, green, sweet
Enter through doorway now 
S—sick horror can’t breathe 


Details | Lyric | |

Counterpole

My rhymes are timeless while this time is lifeless
why is life this kind less, reminds me that this
mind is spineless ready to tip and quit, as
my lies become mindless and get swollen shut
and Stuck up inside my sinus
Drivin in my prime but with no optimus
Victim to the flip-side of the Midas
Running through my blood like a virus
The sun makes my skin mundane
rubbin on ben gay but get arthritis
touch spermicide and converts to hepatitis
I hit the plus sign but it just musters up a minus
I'm seen sucking my thumb like the peanut's Linus
I run and duck when I hear the sirens cause
I abducted the president's Nike air pumps
now air force one is trying to find us
I'm at my desk obsessin about success but
This whole time its been right behind us


Details | Ballad | |

Better Luck Next Time

My heart...can you find it?
I can't feel it in my chest
Ever since the emotional hit
Leaving me months of unrest

You'll be fine, better luck next time

Every woman looks like the same
Decent hair, poor skin and a sight of breast
Nothing but another bland dame
Why can't I simply just rest?

You'll be fine, better luck next time

Lying alone in bed waiting
my supportive roommates in love surround me
I can't bear the noise as I'm debating
What is next in life for me?

You'll be fine, better luck next time

....oh shut up


Details | Limerick | |

Lock Up

<                             once there was a girl locked in closet
                               dear old dad said well thats what you get
                               little did he come know
                               let out by little bro
                               but recaptured by moms fishing net 





Entry For Leighann Anderson's
Sea Of Words Contest
G.L. All                               


Details | Narrative | |

Call The Maintenance Men

  I’ve lost it. I’m exhausted.
 I can’t handle another day of these
 Auditory hallucinations. Doors creaking
Open Voices carrying around basins. 
 These days with no sleep
are starting to 
Become costly,
 to my overall health.
Wait, do I need help? 
 
      Hold up! 

 Grab a wrench!
 grab your tool belt!
We’ve got to get this girl back to 
Stellar mental health !
Wait, I’m not a machine?
I said to myself 
They said it’s okay ma’am 
We’re trained in these sorts
Of matters better than anybody else
Feeling stressed you say, take a shot
Of vodka while we take a look at you 
Right away 
A little elbow grease and your brain
Won’t be on its knees anymore 
You’ll be back on your feet in no time 
Miss, we  can’t miss with our new  
And improved stationery kits.
Just relax and you’ll improve
It’s not like you’re the only one
Going through this.


Details | Light Poetry | |

My Morning

I've had a busy morning, it didn't go to plan
I had to go to hospital to see a little man.
The man was sick and therefore away
He could have told me anyway.

I went to town to open an on - line account
My identity I took and the required amount.
‘I'm sorry you are here an appointment you need’
Said the smug looking cashier sat there wearing tweeds.
"Forget it "said I it’s supposed to be on line
I cant' keep coming here all of the time.

I went to a bank to pay in some cheques, 
The queue of fifteen people made me regret,
I turned tail and ran, more jobs had I to do,
I went back outside where the sky had turned blue.

I walked along looking at the beautiful leaf fall
I ended on my backside a part of it all.
My crutch hit a leaf ,then slipped with such speed 
The fall of myself, no one could impede....

I went to the electric shop to return a mini hoover,
‘Would you like the same again’ asked the really good mover.
He slipped round the counter as fast as can be,
And wiggled him bum at the girl stood next to me.

I wouldn’t have minded to much I suppose 
If he wiggled it at me, but oh what a pose.
I have leaves on my bum my hair is a all flat
I have stains on my hands from the floor where I was sat.

He took pity on me when he returned 
If you’d like your money back, that can be confirmed.
Oh yes that is nice, I would like that a lot
So the morning picked up cos the money I got.


Details | Free verse | |

Xanax Sunshine

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION

JS Lambert


Details | I do not know? | |

- to all- good night.

angels are sprawled 
in the longest reach my children could snow-afford on my former green lawn
over-played carols over-play the car ride to the store, where they will continue 
an embarrassment of lights dangle ‘side a staple-holed roof trim
somewhere not ‘nough off too far
there  are
yards watching snowmen come and go
behind the windows that hold kitchens
the bills are a pilin’
the car’s in the driveway needing to be plugged in
the mailman’s griping ‘bout the weight of his sack
dropping off cards he’d gladly drag back
the t.v.’s got little relief
there’s a log burning on a 24 hour channel
that someone someday will commercial 
the crap out of
office parties forum the drunk, “Here’s what I really think of you…” 
spark the  short lived, misappropriate romance
the mall cattle call. . . from parking lot to till
warrants wrappings to be hauled away
to some landfill
waiting for Valentine’s Day


Details | Haiku | |

Sweet Love O' Mine

I bought a burger yesterday
It was very dry like the seagull bay
I pilled a lot of ketchup on it
and still dry it remained
I was very dissappointed
as i look at the dry damned thing
I ran to the toilet
and let out a HUGE
BLEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH
As chunks of the dry burger fell out of my pie hole
Landing into the toilet
Making dookie plop noizes
I'm done


Details | Verse | |

Grattitude First lesson in Christian Living

Dear little pony, the children’s clown,
Rough mane stands tall, his thick tail tumbles down.
Jiggety, jog.  Yes, some riders have frowned.
Dad can ride him with two feet on the ground!
 
He’s a tough little, nuggety, wonderful chap
Who can live on the roughest of diet mishap.
We don’t feed him oats much, he’ll founder on those,
But if you can ride him you’re right home and hosed!
 
He’s full of the tricks that intelligence brings.
He’s always a challenge until mummy sings
Out loud, lets him know that he can’t get away
With presenting his backside to children today.
 
The children must learn how to command him too.
It isn’t the easiest thing they must do,
But they look for the pleasure of riding again,
So they learn how to handle tough diamond disdain.
 
They must learn how to stop him from racing away
Towards home when his head is turned facing that way.
His mind is on resting with food in his trough,
But his job is to teach, and he does it but tough!
 
Tough diamond’s a doorway to wonderful thrills
In the glorious world of the horseman’s spills
And great challenges.  Once you can master this rascal
Nothing can daunt you.  Introductory sample
 
Of every excitement that riding can offer,
He’s cute, pert, adorable, and he can proffer
Essential abilities.  Gratitude is
The gateway to mastery, sire of bliss!
 
Every offence becomes laughable when
You think back to this tough little customer. Then
Your mind turns to teaching, as Daddy once did.
No more can the mud of offence cause a skid.
 
You’ll go round it.  Or jump it. There’s no need to fall
 When Gratitude’s mastered.  Remembering all
Those scuffles you had that your dad helped you through,
You’ll mother, or father, or teach others too.
 


Details | Free verse | |

Suicide

You told me to do whatever it takes to be happy. I'm just following your advice. :)


Details | Rhyme | |

Remember

“I can’t remember you, but you are pretty,” said the old man Tears formed in the eyes of the woman "Who are you?" His voice was the grayest of blues "Are you my new doctor? Or perhaps a nurse?" Silently, the woman took something out from her purse The photo was a wedding shot of a young pair His smile was dimpled and wide, and she had curly hair The woman handed the photo to the old man Setting it on his shaky hand He stared at it long and hard, trying to remember He looked at the date in the back—the 13th of December He looked at the woman in sudden surprise “Marianne!” He cried with joy. “Of course, my wife!” She left the room without another word That was the name of his first wife—and she was merely the third


Details | Free verse | |

A Difference

We can make a difference

We can wallow in the feat
Where all souls meet
At the foot of the world by which to greet
In bitter silence to its door chime ring,

One can easily take heart or to what would sing;

From shadows glook of its tormented swoon
It would be at the addage of its peril
A safe place to emancipate,
The soul was erected by pious chimes;

In tombs tortured with flagrant rhymes/ Through a misfortune illumined amidst/ Shattered glass stained by bias accalades/ We can make a difference/ Fresh out of our store bought routine/ Out of curtains unleashed to swallow/ The world is filled with ghosts & demons/ Shaped by the imaginative solace screaming/ We can make a difference/ The trunk on the trees on which all branches grow/ The pen on the ink to make messages flow/We can make a difference/ With parts uncertain yet attainable/ Create/ The notion of a bridge of hope/ It's gap loosens for passengers to cross/ Reason must be supplimented by our creative imaginative & faith/ Reason is itself an act of faith!

Totals 28 lines/ 182 Word Count


Details | Limerick | |

laugh out loud brawy limerick

sip your coffee and smoke cigar
you the ass holy and mob boss 
catholic faith noth
protestants’ hybrid
St. John the Baptist spurious


Details | Couplet | |

Invisible's Invincibility

I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.

Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone

No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow. 

Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold. 

The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.

This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.

I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being


Details | Light Poetry | |

What Just Happen to My Spring

I looked out side to find a nice day in the month of May
And was walking in the evening just to say
I almost cried and my hands got cold
And winter month got so bold
It was so frustrating and out of the norm
And each person in their heart had a storm
It's the month of May what the! happen to spring
And my headache began to ring
Most people on the first day of May was so happy
And now they look out on the second day sappy
I just want everyone to know it is May 2, 2013
And nothing should be in between
So pullout your snow shovels in dismay
And things you should know will be okay
So good morning to all and to all a good morning
And I just want you to be out their in a warning
The snow is at six inches and beyond
And you will not see green grass in dawn
I help myself by writing this poem
And I will be staying at home
Crazy the weather became bad in May and nasty
I brought out some of my snack and that was tasty
I just looked outside while I was eating
As the snow kept on beating


Details | Free verse | |

Down And Out Haiku Slam

<                                          whispers of the wind .........
                                            speak to enchanted sea .........
                                            bp ........  going down


Details | I do not know? | |

You THINK?

You think you might be in love.

You think he/her might be in love with you.

You think about a lot of things. Do you really know those things?

You think a lot, you worry a lot. 

But do you really HAVE to think or worry about those things?
  Or do you WAN'T to think or worry about those things?

Now that there is something to think about.

 
   

              *please leave a comment if you like it or fav poem if you might*
                                           
                                         -Angel4eva23


Details | Free verse | |

Sin

Anguish taunts through a barbed wire fence with edged grasp

Actions in which human beings rebel against a holy God
Miss their purpose for their lives
Surrender to the prince of the power of the air more then God
Cause  all of their deeds were evil!

Shattered
An eclipse of the sun had tainted my inner vision
Push back the pain with radiant guide
Does this notion in thought come at any big surprise?

Weak willed tyrants from the flood of dispinsation
Shattered fragments loosed in gloom climatic abrasion
Parts unknown from the setting of the sun
Sin

Leading gullible women captive under the false cloak of compromise
Abortion on demand
When will they ever understand?

Blood shed in our streets
Evil tyrants from elected officials overly prideful taunt & pull!
We each our responsible for our actions before a holy God
Sin!


Details | Sonnet | |

Shall I Compare Thee

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more stormy and less temperate.
Rough winds do shake our fragile bonds of May,
And summer's temper hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot your sweat does shine,
And often is your beauty dimmed;
And every handsome man you do decline,
by chance, they leave chest hair untrimmed.

Part 2 Variation
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art as stormy and as cold
And do leave me longing for May
And winter’s temper too long showed
Sometime too cold yours eyes shine GREY


Details | I do not know? | |

oh, dont mind me

a small cased letter no punctuation or full stops just endless continuation of something that exists no meaning no reason just average evolution for those of us that live by the tick and not the tock patiently waiting side line suvaying cheering on the big boys passing our turn so sign my name on the dotted line no need to cross the t it's better if you just leave it there like the world has left me yes there's no use debating arguing or validating that some people are smalled cased letters and some are just Big


Details | Rhyme | |

Our politicians

Our Politicians
They speak like politicians
And hold a great ambition.
They think they are right
And same speech they recite.
They always gather for a bite
Deciding who should start the fight.
All have their own stations
To be the victims of cremation.
They gather their own crowd
Who cheer and clap to any sound.
They think they are right
Only here for a bite.
They speak like Aristo
And act like Montecristo!
They smoke big cigars
And all drive tinted cars.
They dress in glitter
And all have Twitter.
They act so polite
But hardly can write.
Always in action
Only during the election.
To make a collection
Or a connection.
O What a time you feel like 
Committing a crime.

For a brief background about this poem, pls, read the poem (Beirut).


Details | Ballad | |

Woods, great place to hide from bullies

Beneath the soil lay our roots
Multi-legged insects walking on moss
Working hard to get the fruits
Like lost souls running to the cross
Or hungry new army recruits
With no care of profit or loss

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain

We feast together in the swamp
The spiders just want to push us around
They see us and want to stomp
We hide under the ground
I’m here, no fear of the chomp
It’s our other way around

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain

One day I hope it will change
The flower tell us one day
Not to far gone to rearrange
Apex of the sun’s way
Move to the balkan mountain range
Rather than be part of the buffet

We are the bugs
Commission on narcotic drugs
Watch as we steal the rain
Plants are ruining our brain


Details | Rhyme | |

Deirdre Blues

Oh Deirdre, Oh Deirdre, what words can I say to express how I feel when you are far away. But Deirdre, when you are close to me and I think of the things you do, my whole body starts to shake and that's when I feel blue. The sight of your gargoyle face and the words that spit from your mouth, make me break out in a cold, cold sweat and I wish I was far, far south. Oh Deirdre, it has to be said, the taste of your cooking makes me ill. Your under-cooked roasts are really vile, as for your soup, well it's pig swill. Your gas-like breath sends me to sleep. Your toxic nagging drives me to drink. I don't know how much more I can stand! Oh Deirdre I'm dangling on the brink. But 0h Deirdre, when I'm feeling low Maybe all is not doom and gloom. Your fortune will be mine when you die. So Deirdre, my darling, please die SOON


Details | Free verse | |

THE CERULEAN COLOR

Feel chapfallen without the cerulean color,
and it'll be reflected in the gloomy skies...
would any smart kid use any other crayon than blue?
Boys like it, so do girls...it could be their eyes,
their cars, their dresses, or their room in total disorder;
take it away from them and their spirits droop!
Everyone pick up lots of crayons or the one you prefer,
and enter into your dreamworld: dudes will compete with chicks,
and the winning team will be awarded a trophy; no dupes or dunces
are allowed in the competition...and please don't use dull crayons:
they must be lively as flowers seen in scented gardens,
so grab them...be earnest, be spontaneous and dare!  
Feel chapfallen without the cerulean color,
rely on the imagination and be splendiferous;
use this blue crayon, draw anything that's scrumptious...
don't jumble and don't worry if later you'll scour!
How about coloring a scurrying scorpion,
and does it have to be mediocre to draw scorn?


Details | Rhyme | |

Credit Crunch Times

Me pay cheque is wounded, they gave it the axe
And these vampire politicians have drained 20% tax
Credit cards are all crunched to the max
Bailiffs keep knocking, won’t cut me some slack

Dam credit crunch has hit me hard
We scraping dad’s toes to use as lard
Granddad’s pluckin and a pickin’ the banjo with his teeth
Humming “I’m sure there’s some chicken in between these strings or underneath

To travel the bus is £1.20; it used to be a pound
There no such thing as free sex around
I ask the misses give me some; even she bleeds me pocket like a bloodhound
What’s wrong with the world it’s turning into a credit crunch breeding ground?
I whispering don’t make waves and they water skiing trying to make me drown

Can’t smoke 
Can’t poke
This is a joke
I’m sure all of this of just a hoax 

Well I have to go it time to munch 
We having mama’s toe nails for lunch


Details | Rhyme | |

Normal

Normal

If normal is as normal does.
Then normal is as normal was.
If normal makes it all OK.
Then normal is the only way.

If normal does not fix the pain.
Then normal is what we restrain.
In looking at what we believe.
As we’re groping to achieve.

The normal, that just went askew.
As we learned and as we grew.
The normal that we’d try to be.
The normal that we'd always see.

In the words of those who cared.
And in the words of those impaired.
For normal is as normal does.
If normal ever really was. 

By Tom Clark, Copyright 2008
Email:  tclark97045@yahoo.com


Details | I do not know? | |

Consumation of a suicidal fantasy

I can't find the sleeping pills tonight.
So, I try to swallow a bottle of vitamins,
But they are so big that I might choke,
And I'm afraid to die.

Every ledge is a spring-board to paradise,
Or a path straight to hell.
Either way, I'm afraid of heights,
And I'm afraid to die.

The end is the edge of a razor blade,
I'm in hot water and, I think of cutting.
But I hate blood and blood clots,
And I'm afraid to die.

I find some rope.
I go to the cellar and hang myself
But, I guess the ceiling isn't high enough,
And I'm afraid to die.

On the platform I wait for a ride to nowhere,
The solution is under the speeding train.
But I stop thinking because I'm scared --
And I'm afraid to die.

Either way, I am a coward:
Too scared to live,
Too scared to die.
But in my dreams I am a hero
Whose death seems to faze all,
But affect none.


Details | ABC | |

Fourteen Catfish

        Fourteen Catfish
Fourteen catfish swimin along
one was caught cause he went wrong
thriteen catfish swimin all night
two got hooked before daylight
eleven catfish in the brook
seven fell for the fisherman's hook
four big catfish sniffin bait
three of them just couldn't wait
one fat catfish all alone
got no girlfriend of his own.
      © ron wilson


Details | I do not know? | |

A long line of scallywags

I love my son he's always chipper
he's my scallywag and I'm the skipper
and the apple does'nt fall far from the tree
he's menatly challenged just like me!

and even though his dad's a zero
"hey dad your my hero!"
having fun is all he's wishing
"hey dad ya wanna go fishin?"

lost the house a home we have not
"hey dad looky what I caught!"
no business financal ruin we sank
"aww dad you can have my piggy bank"

rich kids need toys to have fun
"love you dad!" "love you son!"
think no toys would make him sad?
such a good boy "your the best dad!"

now I know I won't always live forever
"hey dad we always be together?"
"no worries son just stay chipper
you'll have your own scallywag and you'll be the skipper!"

by Captain Mike Harris and his son


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dying Dreams

The young dream their dreams away at night

Hoping they come true

A doctor,policemen,veterinarian and other dreams are developed by the young

Too naive to understand the ways of the world

Determined as ever to achieve their dreams

The old regret the dreams they could never accomplish

They had dreams but unknowingly never came true

You go from living a world full of dreams

To living the reality that is life

Why do we let our dreams die

We were so excited as young kids

At the foot step of our dreams

Were we haunted by the mountain we had to climb

To make our dreams come true

Did we simply quit

Because of society’s pressure

Did money deter our dreams away while we slept at night

Did we let doubt creepy into our hearts

Silently killing all of our dreams without realizing it

Why do dreams die so quickly

When we spent years of our youth

Hoping that we could get an opportunity

To make them come true

Dream big, chase your dreams and never let them die


Details | Free verse | |

My Secret Prison

Trapped again!

Maze hidden cheddar eluding 
every twisting turn a doorway 
to the path I’ve already forgotten
a spirit broken within each hidden cul-de-sac.

I cry.

Depression building my will 
crumbling into fatal despair
that rages with a whisper
as quiet as a hurricane.

I sleep.

I scream at one wall 
HA! HA! HA!
hundreds more continue laughing.
Right! Left! NO! RIGHT! Left! Right! LEFT! YES! Right!

I succumb.

Cheddar thoughts and running 
water sustain my desire to escape
through walls of scent
filled dreams of freedom.

I laugh.

Test complete. Failure.
Should have smelled for Camembert.


Details | Free verse | |

Lost

A hero is just that lost in the suace proned to devastation

A barrage of intense flames loosed in its politically incorrect agenda
Sought back the upheavel with a smile still to know all the great while
A chalice is just that in some absurd excursion plotted to the extreme
The inevitable remedy with hearts on the upswing

Through the complacency proned to decency
The upmost honesty to endeavor the braided swelt of heat
In an illusion prond to twilight fantasy in its eternity
The inner plight of justification & sensitivity
Gone our the days we used to frolic in a haze
Today we are all being stuck inside a maze
Shattered dreams in the notion of fright to sight
In scrambled eggs inside the equation
You base your logical theories on the basis of regret
All the hero's and legend we knew as a child have left
In random discourse,

We felt the sound of innocence in the right perspective
Shattered fragments in their devastation in dreams
A flight of fancy & brevity
The cause of charity
In its equated logical fashion We absorbed the extremitites
Many today suffer in silence amidst its blindness
With temples of gloom shattered fragments in their room

Lost!


Details | Blank verse | |

FADED DRAPES

Faded Drapes
Cindy those old deceiving clothes which you 
claimed your mother insisted you wear were
nothing but a homeless person's clothing but
could have been faded drapes which might have
been improved with grape stains

You looked wonderful in newer clothes but more
specifically in the newer clothing which I picked
out for and gave to you but I was the observant one;
the one who was not only right for you but also right
about you

  Why you obediently wore those ugly drapes before
we met and toward the end of our rightful friendship
is beyond understanding which is equally true about
why you ran away and continue to evade me- if I ever
see you again it just might be in some old faded drapes


Details | Free verse | |

Eternal Vigilance

He had to be on his guard at all times

The swift forces of evil sifted through to receive his gait
Still in awe combersome state of resistance
What everyone simply needs in life is a chance
Eternal vigilance,

Then soon vanquished to its cryptic elemental heights

Some having even fought back the intense pain lest I refrain;
Another twist in prominant vice to promote its blow
Some our quite eager & content 
In getting the best out of me...

Some having sifted through its canvas setting abode

Others ponder relics in an excursion filled up in cold & distant stream
By a clever heart of careless scheme
Eternal vigilance
As fragmented cold yet distant hearts asunder

In stoic yet stark quiver in its plumetted excursion

Shelter lies dormant exposed to its inner beckoning call
Eternal vigilance
Within a certain thrust to expose eternal vigilance
Today are society lies dormant;

Exposed to its desperate rudimentary elements!


Details | Free verse | |

"Holiday Hell"

Bells will be ringing
Blaring inside my head
Another Christmas is upon us
Welcome's a Holiday Hell

In stores for hours looking for that special gift
Everything's picked over, knowing you should of started in September
In line for another hour
Surrounded by people who act like they have the holiday cheer

Snot nose children are crying
Wanting things they don't need
Parents last nerves are pinched
No money in wallets, craving a stiff drink

Ungrateful family members
Gather around and b*tch
Look at the presents you bought them
With disdain and that look "Exchange or money back."

Bells are still ringing
Pounding inside my head
Christmas is definitely here
Everyone welcome the Holiday Hell.


Details | ABC | |

names

everyone  has  one.they   can  be  old  names.they can  be  different  names.they  
can  be  celebrity names.they can be  silly  names!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Finding My Pure Heart

All the violence on TV was probably not good for me
All the decapitated corpses on video games not the brightest idea for me
Life’s real dramas just frustrate me
All the fabricated television dramas annoy me
We all love a happy ending yet we consume the misery and pain of others
Haunted by life changing events
At times I just simply need to vent
Why be educated and humble when being ignorant and shallow brings you fame
Why save your virginity for marriage, when society’s sluts take all the good guys that a girl covets
Why be a nice guy, when all the respectable women settle for assholes yet are surprised when they are mistreated and cheated on
Why live a life down the correct path, when the wrong path is glorified and admired by society
Beneath the darkness and rubble of life exist the flickering white light of my once pure heart


Find more of my writings and poems at jorgesouthkorea.com


Details | Light Poetry | |

behind the scenes (part two)

& here comes the jester with his funny clothes 
With his loud laugh, hilarious deeds & jokes 
The great funny jester that we love in all stories                                                   
 seems a little bit different …seems to be lost along the roads 
I've watched him washing away his makeup & putting down his tools 
As he noticed that he's not only the jester of the show 
But also one of the greatest fools 
Living behind his fake smile 
That he forgot what's a real smile & who the real "he" is 
But... he didn’t give the true "he" a try 
& also got lost in a blink of an eye 
There are so many other characters in the show 
But those were all I could introduce to you 
I just don’t know how it feels 
To be the one behind the scenes 
There is always something left for u to figure out 
Something that u should know alone that may fill u with doubt 
Just follow your sense; no one can hide behind that fairy tale forever 
Reveal the truth from behind those curtains in front of you 
Try to understand what happened to those characters of the show 
So take a look behind the scenes 
Or do you like the things the way it seems …


Details | Rhyme | |

I Took Some Time With God

I Took Some Time To Spend With God…

I took some time to spend with God alone.
I asked for his blessing in my life and home!

I took some time to tell him that I love him!
I know that he listened and I can trust him!

It seems like yesterday I was a young boy.
There were many things I wanted to enjoy!

I enjoyed prayer with my lord and friend!
I felt his joy and peace within!

I didn’t realize how busy life would be…
I thought less of God,..  And more of me!

I’m thankful that I know a God who cares!
He’s never too busy for a moment to share!

He has blessed and renewed my mind!
He’s always so patient, loving and kind!

Thank you Jesus for the time we have together!
I’m looking forward to being with you forever!

You are the one that I will daily seek!
I need your direction each day of the week!

All praise and honor to you. is what I give!
I won’t forget you each day I shall live!

You’ve blessed and strengthened my life today!
You’re the truth, the life, and the way!

I shall sing of your praises with pure delight!
I know now that things in my life will be alright!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

Why I Write

I write to release all of the emotions I’ve picked up during the day,

I write to remember happy memories, and to make the bad ones fade away.

I write because I am in love. I write because I’m in pain…

I write because I have nothing to lose, and so very much to gain.

I write when my head is filled with fantasies, dreams and or goals,

I write because just like an actor, my mind takes on many roles.

I write my own songs, poems and sometimes silly little rants,

I write because I feel, I write because I can’t.

I write to show others like me that they are never alone,

I write to create another world that is simply my own.

I write because I am proud. I write because I’m ashamed…

I write when there’s a voice inside of me that can’t be tamed. 

I write at three in the morning when I can’t fall asleep,

I write because it is far better than counting furry sheep.

I write because I always have something to say,

I write because it has made me into who I am today.


Details | ABC | |

family

they  are  very   different .you  like to  spend  time  with them.enjoy  life  with 
them.your  family  will always  be there for you.










































































































































Details | I do not know? | |

Windows and Boxes

Then and now,
my favorite thing to do
has always been
looking through windows,
looking in boxes.

I can still recall
that day.
Ten years old,
my first Pokémon.

My friends were my Pokémon,
my emotions were calculated through damage multipliers.
It was the life.

Now, my old friends gather
dust
under my bed,
yet do not age.
But I have aged so much.

Stuck with humans present, I cry for those digital friends,
whom I could love without judgment,
whose overall reliability was a tangible number
in that Game Boy window,
where the only drama I felt
came in pixilated, perfectly perpendicular text boxes.

Humans are so flawed,
but not those Pocket Monsters,
whose margins of error were always measured
in a perfectly percentaged probability.


I know amazing people
who volunteer, serve, love.
they are deluded, imperfect.

I had a creature with low power, basic moves, and that always lost.
but It
was
perfection.


Details | Free verse | |

Deeper

Still going ever deeper after all these years
In rudimentary changes featured taunt in blinding fears
That soft pull of a heart will light a spark
Over head we can quietly look at butterfly's circling the wind
With ovart cluster filled with circling eagles
In summoned line formation to reach upward
A tug at the heart will light a spark

Still going deeper...

It's gravtitational pull may bring some down
Some lasting sentiment of praise withstand
To help embrace fate nor that in some cup to raise
In some darkened peril place with vile imaginative trace
Along loose lines by which to bind

Inside I still hide behind a garb filled with walls that are trapped

With hidden wounds to silence then bind to bite & devour
Shaded colors emmersed in radiant lights filtered to flourish

In many faces proned in traces looking back at me from peril strain
While the caged fury of the outside world is totally insane
Still going ever deeper then ever before...
A reckless abandonment from my fractured skull having ravaged body thrown on floor

Some shouts of peril to doom will seal your tomb along a sunset shore
A human heart is a choiced vice that can be used by choice
They are garland to grace your head
All her paths our peace yet some lead to the dead

Guard your heart amidst the perils that falter
Give me shelter to cry amidst the pain & turmoil
Branded my reflection in a sentiment of reprise
In strict adherance to the law from temporal recourse

Although a tear drop should fall sends a shiver down my spine
A fresh scent of dew will help swallow up the pine
A passage of unique fragrance sprinkled on the quaint existance
Within solace we can anticipate peace

Through a memory filtered in the state of complete retreat
Gone are the days to frolic in a haze
Today we are all second guess as a mouse is in some maze
It's gravitational pull will bring so many down

Shadows proned again into inhilation,
Heaven sent through angelic appease..
The choice of divination to some stuck twart existence.
Planted in my fragile computerized egg shell mind!


Details | I do not know? | |

Rehab With a Twist

I think you should go to rehab,
you say noooooooo,
ya youre all wack ,
cause youre on crack,
ya wont go go go,
you wont take the time,
if your gym boys think your fine,
i tried to make ya go to rehab,
ya text LMAO,

You'd rather be at the crib with Mike,
Party at eight, gonna get so high,
Youre a well known smooth talking ladies man,
Your secret crush, cybroman stan,
always brough Jack D. to school,
a few times had to call the man Dr. Drew,

I think you should go to rehab,
you say noooooooo,
ya youre all wack ,
cause youre on crack,
ya wont go go go,
you wont take the time,
if your gym boys think your fine,
i tried to make ya go to rehab,
ya text LMAO,

They would't let you take the medics wheel,
all cracked out, trying to do a deal,
white coat dude had to ask why you here,
You explained you'd been attacked by a dear,
Rubbing alcohol was all you found,
to ease the pain and mellow you down,

I think you should go to rehab,
you say noooooooo,
ya youre all wack ,
cause youre on crack,
ya wont go go go,

You say you dont wanna drink again,
dont want to loose your FB friends,
refusing to spend 2 months,
away from your gym boys and your cybroman love,
whatever helps you sleep,
at night that booze must go bye bye,


I think you should go to rehab,
you say noooooooo,
ya youre all wack ,
cause youre on crack,
ya wont go go go,
you wont take the time,
if your gym boys think your fine,
i tried to make ya go to rehab,
ya text LMAO

Parody of Amy Winehouse's Hit Rehab


Details | Rhyme | |

I Lost the Bet : Where's my Jet ?

I Lost the Bet : Where's my Jet ?


I went to Vegas made a bet
  takin' the cab: lost my Jet!  
Went  to settle up the score
What else is new? Lost some more!  
Nor did Blackjack go my way, 
I should have left early that day! 
I went to gamble; lost my shirt 
 Life's a shamble; now eatin'dirt     
I had a pocket full of cash      
sure was gone in a flash! 
played the craps; now eatin' scraps  
thought I was lucky, but to my surprise
  wasn't 7 or 11, it was snake eyes!  
  I'm sorry to say, I took the bet
you know how it goes;it's Russian Roulette 
I rolled the dice; I didn't think twice   
 went to Vegas lost my dreams; 
didn't stay away from the slot machines 
 Now I  pray for my shattered life;  
should have played Bingo with my wife!



McCuen Copyright October 2008


Details | Limerick | |

I Must'a Been a Beautiful Baby...

I must'a been a beautiful baby,
but that ain't true any more
But try as I might, 
I'm still a pathetic sight,
One that no one can any longer adore


Details | Free verse | |

what success told me!

 
 
success loved by all, hated by none
ask the movie star or the beauty queen
nothing on earth thrills like success!
success is the precursor of achievement
he’s the prize for hard work
success is the difference between affluence and penury
he's the distinction between fame and obscurity
he’s the thin line between sadness and joy
he differentiates the president from his chief critic
success guarantees you'll never lack friends
however, success breeds envy
beside ever successful man, there is a fair lady
sever ties with success and she'll be your ex
one with success always holds his head high
a successful child is his parent's pride
success is utterly irritable
thus he's seldom a lasting friend
despite the many faults of success
he never selects friends
i laugh when people accuse success
of never bothering to look their way
success is an impatient guest
who knocks on everyone's door at odd hours
and he may leave if we’re too slow to open
‘cos he's got many homes to visit
 


Details | Free verse | |

Broken Promises

The spirit of the age has tempered vile degrade
In desolation it's will torn wild
We send vomit into letters exposed to loosened fetters
Strangers
Erupted in mass chaos in its plausible quest
The more we want so the more we in turn invest
We wait in idol fancy as some lost souls in Sid & Nancy
We hurt then tie the tube getting loose lube filled with screws
We plummage into a violent existance isn't it relevant?
We think were alone yet we never are cause God is still in charge
In social regard toward difficult matters that appease
We lose sight of love & social need
In foot steps drawn in the sand someday we may learn & understand
In columns of rescued menure pile in its claim
The world outside is totally insane
A casual encounter with a so called friend?
The next day you got Aids, now you got pain!
The choices we make to appease the mind
In columns of choiced red, blue & brown....


Broken promises through its shattered glass filled with pain
Broken promises  can easily drive a man insane
A court jester will amuse the crowd as long as there is an occasion
Perhaps society is in need of a break on a long awaited vacation?
Closed minded sentiments filled in vile affection
The novice gets hungry stops at his local 7 eleven
Promises made in the dark have come full circle into the light
Broken Promises with advant garde choices made in the night
Elaborate decorum in want of passage;
We last a minute & grieve as the savage!


Details | Rhyme | |

paradox

 
 
we are set for the battle of our lives
one which we may not survive
we now have a look at our foes
ready to snap their arrows go
oh! oh! they are our leaders
our own revered rulers
who sent us out to fight
shoot at us with all their might
ten dozen arrows whizz, then countless others
we increasingly lose our brothers
oh! our leaders, callous proselytes
killing us in a war they made us fight


Details | Light Poetry | |

Gardeners lament

The weeds that grow upon the lawn
Continue growing when they’re shorn
Though treated with a herbicide
It’s no surprise that none have died
The chemicals that you apply
Should make them shrivel up and die
But only seem to feed and nourish
Makes them grow and makes them flourish
Don’t sit there feeling all forlorn
Regarding such a sickly lawn
There’s one solution guaranteed
To eradicate, that awful weed
Get up, go out, put on your coat
Buy yourself a nanny goat 




©  John W Fenn  21-08-2009


Details | Rhyme | |

She is

She sounds like an angel when she sings
She looks like one but with invisible wings
She is perfect, I cannot find any mistakes
She’s always willing to give and seldom she takes
She is the girl meant to be
She’s the one I want to marry me

She’s been married to me now for ten years
She’s the one that caused me to go deaf in the ears
She was cast down from heaven
She torments me and the town of Devon
She is the girl meant to be
She’s the one I beg to divorce me

She’s an angel sure from heaven
She has a number 666 not seven
She’s my wife
She my trouble she’s my strife


Details | Free verse | |

limbless limbo

 
 
a piercing sensation shot through my nerves
causing instantaneous bladder incontinence 
as his calloused gigantic hands
ripped the soiled bandages off my amputated leg
the stethoscope hanging loosely from an overfed neck
grated against the sore's jagged edges
which alongside my agonizing yelps
created a discordant rhythm.
i yearned for the silken touch of that scented lady on white
suddenly his nose wrinkled up, indicating he was either amnesiac
or was too dumb to comprehend 
that his ineptitude was responsible for the festering site.
i lamented diabetes' unending infatuation for me
which has made me a prisoner
to the whims of a grossly incompetent orthopedist
who badly needed a lecture on finesse and work ethic


Details | Blank verse | |

The disaster

Now this is a story, completely true,  
I hope the same never happens to you,  
It about a girl I thought was cool,  
But I did something that made me look the fool  

I walked by the shop and saw the ad,  
And thought “a paper round wouldn’t be so bad!”  
I went in the shop and applied for the job,  
I wanted to stop being a worthless slob!  

I was soon working, it wasn’t great,  
Pouring rain, heavy bags – ALWAYS late,  
I got in the shop and was covered in mud,  
But the round had just gotten good!  

There was a girl packing her round,  
I grinned, walked over and muttered “sound”  
She was pretty, and had dark hair,  
But she wouldn’t like me...life’s so unfair,  

I invested in a pair of roller skates,  
To decrease my high number of lates,  
It worked quite well; I was always on time,  
But my skating skills weren’t exactly sublime,  

Then came that day, in pouring rain,  
I had finished my round once again,  
I was on Kings Lane, when I slipped and fell,  
I rolled over twice, and mumbled “oh, well!”  

I stood up and saw the girl,  
I was so embarrassed, I wanted to hurl!  
She asked me if I was OK,  
This had ruined what was otherwise quite a good day


Details | Light Poetry | |

HEY STACK

 if i drop a dine
to am not blind
still it hard to find
if it roll
it may fold
heave knows
where could it be
mabe behined the rack
it like a needle in a
HEY STACK


Details | Light Poetry | |

SPOIL

guess you can say
ilike thing my way
right to the day
if i don't get  it
i have a fit
and boil
am
SPOIL


Details | Bio | |

How To Pay Your Bills (Part One)

This was a method employed,
By my last ex-wife,
Who enjoyed 16 years of 
torturing me,
The bane of my life...

See she sat and slept in
her recliner,
The power seat of the house,
And treated me,
Like an annoying mouse...
I was too dumd to take,
Care of a bill,
My mental capacity,
Seemingly nil...
Each day I'd hand her majesty
That days' mail,
Nothing but bills,
For the coffin a nail....
As I worked 6 days a week,
Most 11 hours long,
I grew quite meek...
Her system consisted,
Of tossing the bills in a pile,
Next to her chair,
Let them sit for awhile...
Till afer 'bout six weeks,
The pile reached her armchair height,
Annoyed her TV vision,
Obscuring her sight..
Now I knew, 
when she started to pay...
That legion of bills...
On that fateful day....
I'd better be,
At least a hundred miles away...
She would grow ever more disturbed,
And violent at me,
I didn't make enough,
For her tennis lessons,
You see.....
New car, clothes by the score,
She wanted no pressure,
And she wanted more...
I'd go to work,
With 30 cents,
No coffee could buy...
I was just too dense...
Worthless and shifty,
Each 60 hour week,
And pitiful, and weak,
And far too disdainful,
The mouse was too meek...

For three days I'd suffer the storm....
Wishing I was elsewhere,
Especially in a coed dorm....
'Cause I'd have non of "that",
If you know what I mean...
Sometimes lasted for months,
Despite pleading tears...

Now-adays, I live up "On Cripple Creek"
No longer matters if 
I'm feeling strong or quite weak,
Cause as the song says;
"Up on Cripple Creek,
If I spring a leak,
She mends me...
I don't have to speak,
She defends me...
A drunkard's dream...
If I ever did see one!"
 
This would be my friend Rosie,
Who pays all my bills,
Takes care of stuff,
Cures all of my ills...
And, should someone,
Be so damn foolish,
As to antagonize me,
I merely tell her,
And soon enough they would wish,
Someone else's hot anger,
Had they sampled in their dish,
Wishing to dear God,
They'd never heard of my name...
And suddenly they'd have realized,
They ought not have tried to play that game...
My biggest nightmare,
In the whole world, I do think,
Would be to piss her off,
That really would stink...
(cont.)


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Slipping




Batch of wet leaves,
We didn't catch,
Went flying through
the air, our foolish snatch
Landed on our butts,
Giggled as we cried
Seemed so God damn simple,
Now with such sore thighs
Jarred my oral pain as well,
Damn, ain't thing going oh, so swell?
My Lamborghini smashed my Porsch,
My new house did burn down,
I tried to cry out in sadness,
But could not make a sound.
My wife ran away with my secret boyfriend,
Didn't seem to matter to him,
That it was my wife,
Or for she, that she stole him
I had a whim to burn down the house
With me inside, like a useless mouse.

I lit the fire, and enjoyed the light
Until the flames obscured my sight.
Hot it got, and charred was I.
Within five hours,
I would die.



















Details | Rhyme | |

Could it be? Was the question

Could it be? Not to sound too poetic
That I’m alone, unwanted and pathetic

Well if we sum all the facts in our hand
Then we may find near the answer we’ll land

Well I am as we speak writing poetry
Something that should be left to Pete Doherty

Or maybe a libertine of days gone by
For they understood romance would not die

Could it be? Was the question asked
Thus my self worth is diminishing fast

You see I feel a shadow of my forma
And I’ll try see if I can inform ya

My phone rarely bleeps or dose shudder
For my life has seen much more colour

It was much more red, yellow, green too
If I’m honest now it’s much more blue

They used to say I was “man about town”
Always a wink, a smile. No frown

The tail is classic, once a light burning bright
And now it has faded I give up the fight

Hang on! Bleep, bleep check inbox
Reads: Phil get to the party tonight rocks.


Details | Light Poetry | |

HEY STACK

 if i drop a dine
to am not blind
still it hard to find
if it roll
it may fold
heave knows
where could it be
mabe behined the rack
it like a needle in a
HEY STACK


Details | I do not know? | |

Julie's Candy Store

for all you musicians out there- this is a standard blues progression in the key of 
life;

"well, I've had my days....
and I've had my nights.....
yeah, I've had my lays....
and I've had my fights..
but I carry on...
hopin' some day
 to see the lights...

I've suffered some,
in my married life,
I suffered most,
at the hands of my wife...

cause she treats me bad,
and I'm meek, like Barney Pheiff...

well, I've had my fun,
ain't gona have none no more,
yeah, I've had my fun....
but now I'm shook to the core...
cause she kicked me out,
don't live there anymore....

yeah, she kicked me out,
cause she said I snore...
I'll never understand...
that woman I so adore....

well I got a room,
one I was lookin' for,
but its got its problems
problems that I can't ignore....

see, I got a place...
just over Julie's Candy Store...
cheap enough, as it had to be,
ain't got much money anymore...
but I got a problem...
all because of that cheatin' whore....

refrain;

yeah, it ain't no fun...
livin' on top of Julie's Candy Store,
no it ain't no fun'
of this I can assure,
I get so embarrassed,
ain't got no bathroom door....."

by bill and tom bell


Details | Burlesque | |

Don't Wake Me Up Till The Day's Over!

Don't get me up tomorrow,
Don't bother to set an alarm,
These days of boredom and suffering,
Have lost all of their charm.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Cream Tortellini

Last night I found a sentence in your bed, just lying there between smiles and sweat.
And I picked it up and said: Hey Baby, let’s get more of those! But then you rose from the
bed and so on and shouted: No way! But what does it say? Oh Honey, you know I can’t tell
you that! But it’s got the I, the L and the Y words in it. And then you started talking
about buildings. Like if you had an ugly one just opposite a beautiful one, you would
prefer to live in the ugly one, so that you could look out on the beautiful one. And not
the other way around. And then you said that if love was Cream Tortellini you would prefer
kebab. Cause it’s easier to get hold of if you come home late at night – perhaps a little
tipsy – but you don’t have to if you don’t want to, and Kebab isn’t as fattening and that
you aren’t that keen on pasta anyway.


Details | Free verse | |

Crooked crooks, babbling brook

In this crooked chair i sit
at this crooked table
at this crooked desk
and write my crooked thoughts
looking out the crooked window
out onto the crooked crooked street
thinking about how crooked the world is
when suddleny is top and realise
the crooked people arent crooks
everything is crooked
crooked jails
crooked hospitlas
crooked business men lawyers and politiicians
crooked churches crooked steeples
crooked believers crooked people

it was perfect perfect and crooked
crookedly perfect
perfect people
perfect houses
perfect airplanes
and perfect yachts
perfect make me sick 
keeping up with the joneses
perfect white teeth
perfect bodies
perfect hair
perfect health
thwey werent crooked?
were they?

croooked like me?
crooked like them crooked in a world full of rooked people and the crookedest 
thing to do was to stand straight
and make a show of it!!

whose going to replace all of this crooked ness and turn this beautiful now?


Details | Burlesque | |

A Poem For My Home

Dear old house,
that is no more,
I dream of you each night,
as I snore...

I miss your old 
wooden charm
Not like this plastic
tube that does me harm

It erodes my flagging spirit
and sometimes, I
think I hear it...
That comforting creak
of the old wooden stairs
of my old home that
my heart does so seek

If it's partical board
laced with formaldehyde,
and cheap plastic tubs,
that no human could fit in,
if this is something
that sounds good to you
you can buy my new trailer
and I'll go live with that
 old lady in the shoe


Details | Ballad | |

Rocky

Rocky, Rocky
Longed to be a jockey,
But poor Rocky,
Was far too stocky,

More muscles than the horse,
Eliminated him of course,

He tried to slim down,
To win the Derby Crown,
But failed at this,
And was destined to miss,
The goal he sought so bad,

He watched from Kentucky Downs,
With naught but frowns,
And angered that,
Those little clowns,

Had the job he did covet
And they did not love it,
For each of them, it seems,
Wanted to be a muscleman,
That was their fondest dreams.


Details | Burlesque | |

Twenty Nine

Twenty-nine cavities
My dentist said,
Gleefully twenty-nine times
Twenty-nine novacaines
Fun as twenty-nine
Parking fines
Half as many root-canals
Half as many frightening dreams
Half as many muffled
Dental equiptment blocked screams

Twenty nine appointments
To dread twenty nine days
Twenty-nine times to stumble out,
In twenty-nine a dental haze


Details | Verse | |

Hang It Up, It's Over

 
Lord this old dog is worn out and tired, 
He’s joined the group of the unwanted, the undesired,

There is nothing much left that he can do,
That’s why he’s filling so down and so blue.

He gets frustrated and mad, 
He’s confused and he’s sad,

 But there is no one to blame,
 He’s long passed his moment of fame.

But quit is not in him he doesn’t know the word, 
His life has become void, but mostly just blurred.

He’ll go till he can’t,
The reason for his rants.

It just doesn’t seem fair,
Could this be the reason he pulls out his hair   
    
When these days come around,
Screaming out loud without making a sound.

Another birthday coming soon,
He feels like he’s living in a Simpson Cartoon,

So far over the hill,
It doesn’t matter anymore ,so what’s the big deal.

They say when you turn twenty two your life is nearly through,
This time tomorrow he does that is what has him singing the blues.


Details | Free verse | |

Out of a Cannon

Like being shot out of a cannon,
I charged out of bed,
Took one look around me,
My spirits, they bled,
Jumped back into bed,
Hoping to sleep,
Another twenty-four years,
Before out of bed I again leap.


Details | Free verse | |

Perfectly imperfect

She exudes confidence 
but her insides are lying
being a pretty face 
makes them never question
what's inside.

Such a beauty yet she's
dying inside. She
can't cry because photographer's 
are snapping away and her 
mascara might run down
her gorgeous face.

All the glitz and the glamour 
while her soul is locked 
in the slammer. Red lip stick
painted on her pretty pouting lips.
A photo so good you would never
guess how distant her mind was.

One night as she looked out her 
expensive loft apartment at the stars.
She felt a strange feeling like suddenly
she was from mars and this life she 
was living wasn't for her. 

Perfection wasn't something 
she could easily portray.     
So she jumped to her death 
in search of another way.