Best 6Th Grade Poems | Poetry

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The Best 6Th Grade Poems

Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Girl

Secretly, I watch the neighbors, 
From my well-advantaged location.
Mrs. G. is complaining about her husband to Mrs. S.
No one's drama is ever as vivid as Mrs. G's.
They full-body laugh, tongues out.
Mr. P. is going to be late for supper again; 
I can hear Mrs. P. cussing.
At 4:15 I hear the all-day waited slam of a backdoor.
My girl is running toward me, flat out.
She is carrying a white pillow and gray blanket.
There's a plastic bag swinging from her arm as she climbs.
Prior experience tells me the sack holds a book, a drink
and her favorite sandwich - mayonnaise, peanut butter and lettuce.
After smashing a few ants on my floor, the girl flops down, 
and begins to read.
I smile as she devours the sandwich like a young starving wolf.
She's ten, the perfect age to devour.
Every day is the same except Saturday.
On Saturday my girl spends the whole day inside me,
reading two to three books at a time.
It is our favorite day.
Her sister runs out sometimes and begs the girl to play,
but we are fighting pirates, conquering Asia, taming macaws.
We are so in tune, she and I.
When I hear "CANDICE MILLIE STREET COME IN IMMEDIATELY!"
I know my girl has to climb down and run for the house, 
leaving me alone, 
to spy on the neighbors.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Limerick Queens

 Jan, Cheryl, Andrea, Limerick Queens

 Funny, bawdy, farty, some even clean

     Their pens can't write fast enough

     Mirth abounds reading their stuff

 Limericks of laughter, charming my dreams!


Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2018


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Being Disliked Means Nothing to a Bully---picture 3


Twelve-year-old Cliff was moaning in his sleep.
Again--bad dreams of Bob the Bruiser who
lived right next door. Bob was a thug, a creep
who picked on smaller kids like Cliff and knew
on Monday mornings they’d have cash to steal,
lunch money for the week. He’d take it all.
Till after school, these kids would get no meal.
The Bruiser ate his fill and had a ball.

Bad Bob saved up a pile of loot and bought
a bike. He told his victims what he’d done.
He jeered, “You’ve got no proof. I won’t get caught.
Tormenting all you losers is such fun!”

One day the bike was lying in between
his yard and Cliff’s. The Bruiser wasn’t there.
Cliff was outside. A man he’d never seen
said, “Let me buy your bike. I’ll treat you fair!?

Cliff’s conscience stirred, but then he thought of how
he’d been abused and robbed. He said, OKAY!”
The stranger said, “Two hundred?” Cliff yelled, “WOW!
That’s just right, Sir.” This was Cliff’s lucky day.

Bob’s parents would deal wisely with their son
when neighbors told them just what he was like.
They’d see he made amends for all he’d done.
They’d NEVER know what happened to that bike.


January 12, 2018

entered in Eve Roper's There's a Brighter Side Contest (picture 1)
 






Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2018


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Love is a bond

Love is the confluence of two peoples,
this bond is of two relationships,
one is way and one is the destination.
One of the hearts of both heart beats.
This is the bond of all their births.
Love is the confluence of two peoples,


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018


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Relatives Re-inact A Romantic Reconciliation

Oh, yes, Darling! Please meet me up the street, in fifteen minutes, right past the old tan house with that porch, bamboo.
We need to talk about things, you and me, without your mean relatives, and that includes your cousin Ted Stew.
I’d gladly trade this car for a completely untarnished marriage certificate, cleaned out of the day-old flu.
But, fiance’, dearest, you have yet to show me your love nest, your side honey, or your super-secret tattoo,
So now that you realize I might cost you money, you love me forever, and think you can let go and forget the Queen of Vooody-Voo- Doo?
Sure, Sweet Darling. Being pre reasonable, I would certainly like to review our marriageable status, and begin trusting you anew.
Of course, we had better hurry, so we get this trust thing sorted, and my family decides to re-include you,
I do not think any love-you-forever ceremony, fancy hall, or wedding vows I will seriously pursue.
If you decide to take the challenge, there on the steps wearing their juiciest smiles, are my mother, Grandma Kell and cousin Lou.
Sure, they do all have guns, permits, frying pans, and razors. Confidentially, they’re in a hum dinger of a stew about you too.
What more can I do, Sugar Bear?  I’ve led you right to them, right up these pretty blue and white steps, and frankly, honey, it’s the best thing I could ever do.
So saying, I guess all my relatives are ready to talk and slap and pinch and punch, and fight and scrap, and kick, because they’re sort of mad you made me so blue.
Bye, Sweetie. I’m off for the weekend with my new honey, Rick, a gentle, kind, God-fearing man, who doesn’t want to stick around to see what they’re going to do.




Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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The F Poem

Five 
Fancy
Fleshy
Foxy
Friends
Followed
Feather-like
Finery
For
Fun-filled,
Flashy
Farfetched
Floppy
Flip-flops
Forever
Flowered.



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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A Simple Hamburger If You Please

Sure.
Ketchup.
Pickle
Horseradish too.

Mayo 
Lettuce?
That’s up to you.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?

A touch of butter
A slab of bacon.

Please put them on 
If mine you’re making.

Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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A Young Bully Named

There once was a bully named Jim.
He made people cry on a whim.
He was big, bad and mean
And had a name-calling machine,
because he was not very smart, this man, Jim.

There once was a bully named Thad.
He called names and pulled hair, when mad.
We made him our pal,
And he said, "you guys are a wow!"
And he changed his whole attitude and was glad.


There once was a bully named Day.
He did everything to keep people away.
We ignored his bad side,
which he soon learned to hide.
Our new friend, who now liked to play.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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The Lake

 swans gliding on dreams
 their spirits
 entwined, eternal


Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2018


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Land of Dreams

Land of Dreams 
Candy-colored beams 
Tree streams of Yellow Lemon Dew Drops

Red, Green and Blue Gumballs Cars

The path to Rainbow City covered with Peppermint Boat Docks

Sugar Cane Boats floating thru a Chocolate covered River

All sorts of Colored Coded Candy, that is sure to please

A little boy and little girls wish would sure to have a Candy Land Adventure in the 
Land of Dreams


Copyright © Migdalia Torres | Year Posted 2018


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Thwarting the Bullies

Shelly said that Darlene said that
Tina said that you are an ignorant fool.
So?
Jinny said that Zinna was rolling her eyes at you.
Farina said you have cooties.
So?
Do you want to hear what Allie said about you?
No, thanks.
Minnie said….
“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her, skipping away.
“You are a poppie butt!” she yells after me.
Thank you, I yell back.
“You are CRAZY!” she hollers, angry now.
“THANK YOU!” I yell louder.
“They were talking trash about you,” my friend tells me.
Wait a second. This is my friend?
“Are you going to talk to them about it?”
No.
Are you going to fight them?
I throw back my head and laugh.
Once I mastered the skip away, the stay away and the thank you
Bullies had no power over me.
They started bothering others.
I try to teach my friends
Bullies will leave you alone
If they don’t think you are getting mad or sad.
Being so danged light skinned .
I had a terrible time mastering
Those telling pink cheeks.
I had to practice with
Trusted friends,
By letting them calling
Me names and practicing
My strategies.
The Keep Away.
The Skip Away.
The Thank You.
Believe me,
I now have it right.
No one bothers
Me now.
It’s simply
No
Damned 
Fun.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

She Is Taking My Friends Away

She is taking all my friends away.
Something I commonly hear.
Daily.

And it is weird but
As soon as it happens
The victim wants no other friend
But that one.

Crazy?
Yes,
But so
Third grade!


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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13 And Confident

She is assertive.
When she does not want to do 
something, she lets you know.

She honors herself.
Her heart shows her the way.
She listens to her inner voice.
She is 13, and confident.

She cannot be cajoled, swayed, or lured.
She is her own person, following her path.
Making choices that delight herself, and no one but.

She is a dynamo.
On a clear course.
She has met no one who can fool her.
I pray she never does.


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Loses Things Too

She was never on time
bought her a watch
she loses things too





Written July 17, 2018
Entered Mick Talbot's  Senryu Poetry Contest


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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My Most Embarrassing Moment

I scorn thee, Puberty!  Damn thee as well,
Thou abominable herder of shame,
Will thou findeth glee by my told sarspell?
I beseech thee of ineffable name,
Rendereth thineself as quiet slain game,
For thine cruel ends be reached, let thine eyes droop,
Immortal Rite, meeteth Poetry Soup.

Forsaken specs findeth young Phillip (me),
He the first noble son born of Sir Mike,
That betrothed Diane, mother of he (me);

Neareth NASA lived they by Houston’s dike,
We plus two girl offsprings I still dislike;

Turneth back time to nineteen ninety five,
Thus now the setting as ocean, we dive.

I of ten years then plus three more years aged,
By mine mom’s woven hand rags yet adorned,
Draperies bindething spirits encaged,
Mine lot too ignorant still ‘be forlorned,
For two years would pass ‘fore Nike I yearned;

Looken now friends, at thine narrator’s dress,
Mine costumes for school were each mismatched mess.

And hath we not yet speaketh mine afro?
Then let us for humor’s saketh too laughs
For atop mine snow pale flesh did it grow!

It was beneath that nest mine brain did graphs
On one Tuesday morn; during sixth grade math,
Unbeknownst of a sneaking wretched pest:
That ineffably named prepubescent guest.

Still in present times remember I can’t,
What the hell kindled mine loins ablaze,
Yet fiery flames of embarrassment
Secretly smoldered through my brainy haze;

When mine teacher upon me called that I raise,
And thus stirred the scene I’ve oft reflected,

The moment I’ve chosen for my most embarrassing?

When in 6th grade math class I stood up…

   …fully erected


Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2016


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Dog's Life


Puppy

Lovable, Friendly

Frolicking. Jumping. Chewing.

Ball. Cat!  Bed. Window.

Sleeping, Pattering, Growling

Loyal, Loving

Dog


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Teacher

Hero

Caring, Respectful

Empathetic, Kind, Loving

Purposefully Helpful

Teacher


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


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Elementary realism

This is a story for anyone who may have lost their way, lost someone or themselves or just need love and guidance in any form...

`I'm recovering a memory that I forgot long ago.. some parts are still vague and hard to process but I'd like to share it here especially for today, and in the best way I know how; so here goes; 

It was 5th or 6th grade English class at Greendale elementary school. We were doing some work and me and some of the other kids were getting easily distracted. Most days Mrs Branston would align the desks and chairs in sections and push them together to form a rectangle so as we sat we'd be facing each other; and that's when it happened - out of the corner of my eye I saw and heard Niall's* big voice ripping on Melissa* and it went something like this;

N: "Yo Melissa your teeth are so yellow, the suns jealous" ...
and...
"Go brush your teeth" and the one that really set Jessie off- 

"two words TIC-TAc" Melissa wasn't saying anything to this, so then without missing a beat Jessie turned around and said 
" Niall, two words, Slim-fast!" `


there are people and things that remind you of who you are and who you want to be and I am thankful for those moments just like this one. And today I happened to think of this moment in my life and although I may have hurt and stooped to his level a little bit it's sometimes necessary- I'm proud that 11/12 year old me stood up for someone who couldn't stand up for themselves.
 

**When I originally remembered and posted this story on Facebook, it was November 8th 2016, two years after my ex-boyfriends younger sister Julia had passed away. The pain was enormous and confusing and difficult.. she had her struggles but this angel's life was cut short at 20. She was the younger sister I never had.. The night before the two year anniversary I asked for strength and her family always believed  in angels so I turned to them for guidance, and I woke up the nextt day with this story. 

So the moral is go on with love and kindness; always. ** Julia knew this and reminded me of this for myself, reminded me of my old self that I was losing. I was always much happier in my elementary days, carefree, funny, kind, outgoing, honest and truthful. 

Thanks for the memories I asked for angels and thanks Juju.. now I can move on and let go, but I'll still love you for always xox, Jessie  

p.s. the asterix* symbol was used because I changed the names just to keep things anonymous for those involved.. 


Copyright © Jessica Ross | Year Posted 2016


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Smile

Smile

Crying
	drinking sadness
		dieing


Feel
	every smile
		miles away


		Call
	waiting
 and waiting



	Fade
		sail away
drown but not today


Kill 
		sinking thoughts
	yesterday


Knife
			intrudes in flesh
	red


Bleeding
	not a comedy
		lifeless


Secrets
		dreams
screams


No more breath
			no more
		smile


Rigorous
 		shall be Mortie's
				critique

yours truly
	rick
Sanchez



Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018


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Hindsight

A-B-B-A form

The more you learn the dumber you get
knowledge seems to leave me with more questions
Are these thoughts sane? They feel like transgressions
Ignorance really is bliss, think about it...
Suppression, depression, oppression, recession
Reflection, discretion, expression, progression
It's your choice, take your pick, but quick, lickety split...
I'm not sure I even believe In the truth anymore
Just imagine the things we'll know in 50 years
The problems of today will be but quaint souvenirs
We always look back in disbelief on what we stood for...
All there is to be sure of is constant change 
Isn't life funny? Change is the hardest thing to do
Why is that? Is what we have worth holding on to?
Doesn't one look around leave you slightly deranged...?
What're the odds there's something instead of nothing?
Can we at least think about what God might've missed?
What if this planet is another's hell? Whoa, plot twist
Forgive me for that last line, I'm just bluffing...
Or am I? What if "God" is just an idea to attain to?
What if God did create the world and then left?
What if we're an aliens 6th grade science project?
Okay, that's enough, these next few are my adieu
All I know is there's suffering and no ones guilty
Let's use our abilities and respond, responsibility
Read "Thus spoke Zarathrusta" if this seems abstruse...


Copyright © Zachary Alvstad | Year Posted 2015


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Think Spring

Now, unlike my usually trenchant literary librettos, i regale the unknown (tum me) reader for savoir faire articulation, elocution, and indomitable tour de force proffered by spectrum of bounteous expropriated hegemony rightful to Mother Nature. 
--------------------------------------------------------
A Place Revisited Within The Mind
(an illusory escape during dead of winter).
 
The shafts of a golden veil, spring sun at noon
break through the heavily coated
overgrowth of leafy foliage
and cause shadows spar upon forest floor.

In a field of wild
a mosaic of crystalline color
from prismatic play of sunshine
upon the silently talking heads
of the swaying stalks.

the scintillating and sparkling rays
in unison with the weft
(and warp across an invisible loom)
weaves a delicious tasting warm breeze,

(which sways the boughs of treetops to and fro,
akin to an unseen baby being cradled)
brings a ladled spate of cool freshness
from the map-cap world (webbed wide)
of a manmade existence.

The grandeur of the fallow spring meadow
a pageant of exquisite dignity
by the graceful movements
from the un-choreographed fall and rise
of the unplowed acres

eyes orbit, ear re: Canal,
and twitching nostrils of sensate beings
to the mellifluous sounds
and sweet smelling aromas
that gently teasingly assault the senses
beguiling the sight,

and lulling ears into a transcendent state.
A buoyant airy tonal plume
rises into the surrounding heights
touches the breadth of cerulean sky
and scythe lent lee gently tumbles back down
like a merry widow waltzing flowery water fall.

In quiet circumspection 
the antics sans plethora of buzzfeed ding
busily buzzing foraging insects,
which contentedly hum and alight nearby

flitting to and fro
oblivious to plaudits encore
harmoniously thriving 
within the living laboratory

of Mother Nature,
sans, Insects or Insecta are by far
count as the largest group of
hexapod invertebrates
within the arthropod phylum,

where simultaneously
underneath the earthen surface
the ground tis abustle with
glorious heart throb

of one micro universe
comprising architects, builders and weavers
engage in all manner
of natural devices for a livelihood.

This brilliant splendor tantamount
to top notch operatic performance,
a sensational visual and audiological feast
hypnotizing one humble human (me)
into an inebriated state of bliss.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

purple bracelet:i remember you

A purple bracelet made of beads
i found in my small box chest
while holding it only your name pops in mind
trying to figure how i feel inside.

A purple bracelet you handed me
afraid to accept i'm counting from 1 to 3
back in 6th grade can't figure the feelings
infatuation or first love, you don't tell me either.

A purple bracelet i'm afraid to wear 
i just keep it, for what's reason?
it doesn't matter it's been a long time,
for the past years we both forgotten.

The purple bracelet you gave me,
it doesn't fit me anymore but i'm glad
remembering we became close
contrary of what we are now.

A waste of time! what am i doing?
reminiscing the past is not my intention
but cleaning my closet, take away wastes
and this purple bracelet... i should keep.


Copyright © charmane bellen | Year Posted 2011


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Misconception of Misery

It only started as a misconception, a misunderstanding
then like grass fed rain, it grew...grew into this
A eulogy, maybe this could be it
about you? For once, this is about me
How can it be...how can it be?
Dreaming, a dreamer am I
I've been dreaming since I was five
What age am I? 13?
Sorry, I felt like I was just a little older
I've had a rough life to live through
Lately I've been on edge, a steady step away
from jumping headfirst off a bridge, off a ledge; yeah
My life, a disarray of scattered promises
some broken, some kept
Emptiness, sorrow; all I seem to understand
everything has swept under me too fast
and I have nothing to hold onto to help me stand
Help me, I'm stuck on a roller coaster
I've had to teach myself how to react, how to attack
how to be stronger than me
while an unconscious thought screams, "WHERE'S MY DAD AT?"
but unknown training left me to mimic
the things I've seen on TV or the reality set before
Chameleon boy
and where are my parents: working and away
Unknown and unheard of has my father been 
till I was out of kindergarten
No one told me anything yet again I asked no questions
maybe I was just too young to understand
like a good boy, I just fell in line
while the innocence took over, leaving the oblivion
and my mother..somehow I've found 3 more women to call mom
They've treated me as part of their pack, their family
while in my own home, I'm the black sheep
while in my own home, I'm the outcast
When did home turn into high school part 2?
I shouldn't have to teach myself anything
I shouldn't have to change colors to satisfy anyone
so why do I feel I need to be a rainbow to be noticed
cause I'm so sick of being clear, of being me
How can it be, how can it be?
All I've ever known up until 4th grade was knowledge
knowledge only got me so far
I didn't know the stage beyond friend
I didn't know how to make friends, how to be one
Socially awkward, is this my disease
Misguided and divided I am
Is this what all Geminis face or is it just me
Did I remind her so much of my father
that my punishment is to live in my island of a room
and never return to shore
Everyone wonders why I'm the odd one, why I'm the distant one
why not since I know I'll never be enough
I know I've been more than a little harsh
I might have everything all wrong
but have you ever been taken away from your father
kicking and screaming while he stands defeated
switched between parents, back and forth
switched between states, off and on for years on end
Growing up yet you are absolutely oblivious
the only thing you know to be true is the sky is blue
the only thing you know to be true is the one place you hate
From 4th grade on, I've been a vortex
spiraling down, becoming gradually worse 
guess where I'm bordering now
In 5th grade, a poor reaction from confused feelings
lead to a breakdown and a halting of tears I couldn't stand
6th grade, I was a walking time bomb
fueled by rage, quelled by romance but all was fleeting
all I saw was red
All my judgments went so poorly
and every other day I hadn't the strength to move on
almost becoming a part of the in-crowd
that little kid dream of fitting in
Isn't it fun, caring so much while losing yourself ends friendships
funny, I never wanted to leave that year behind
I had my childhood friends, a girlfriend
I knew these people for years, I was content
until I went home, packed my bags
not breathing a word of goodbye
giving up everything it took years for me to have
whisked away to a new life
a new life I want nothing apart of 
7th grade, what a maze
I stood on my heels, pacing, a loser
Fitting in with people I know I'll never see again
showing a side of me I never knew existed
while becoming confused with a different attitude
towards this new life I've been chosen to live
education still my dictator
but that summer changed everything
I grew into myself, making new friends along the way
somehow I was someone everyone claimed to love
8th grade is where my life started, apparently my best year
Popularity, I reached my goal; I was thinking for myself
finally feeling like I was more than a face
but everything fell apart too quickly
Everywhere I looked up, we had to pack and move
there was too many questions and stress
while I just wanted to survive the year yet I survived nothing
Like my walls, I withered and crumbled
Why must I always be taken away from the things
the things I love the most
It's like breathing in cancer to remember
so I try to forget but I meet irreplaceable people
yet I know we'll grow of touch
Life just loves to see me suffer
Insanity is just sitting there, laughing away
while music tries to calm me down
with the aid of friends, the people I've come to know and love
and the one I'm chasing after
Somehow through the dark clouds
I find beauty in the unseen life of the world
I care too much, fall too hard, love too seriously
I try to be more than myself when I really just want to be...me
I admit I'm selfish yet selfless
This life has proven an obstacle I cannot conquer
My heart is strong but my bones are weak
I think too much
and all I've been through just made me older
just made me wish for a better life
wish for something beyond this
yet I just needed some relief tonight
from my shattered wasteland of uncharted feelings
Let the waves calm to halt and the sunset fall
A tale for time to read and weep for the misery of...me


Copyright © Crow thepoet | Year Posted 2016


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Beautiful Butterflies

B	Beautiful fairy-like creatures arrive, disguised.
U	Until spring arrives,
T	They are known as the butterflies.
T	They flit from bud to bud
E	Every blossom gets loved.
R	Richly blessed by these beauties, who
F	Flit rapidly from flower to flower
L	Lilting, landing momentarily
I	In gentle quick repose
E	Each uniquely designed and colorized
S	Seen by many, touched by few



Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018


Details | 6Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

My Jiggling boobs

since maintaining a diet 
of exercise heeding "yo dude" 
(you look like a lady)
the inner fitness maven against 
the temptation of high caloric junk food 

and nightly snack king 
on a flexible fitness routine, 
this LIX aged body electric feels good
these myopic eyes and 

well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood- 
winking bosom, that if I feigned being 
a "bared naked lady" - 
as per this chest lewd

city in reference to "man boobs" 
that seemed to materialize overnight 
now appear to decrease as well 
that unwanted "love handle, 

this chap more inclined 
tubby in a greater mood 
to parade around 
this noncrowded house shirtless 
AND definitely NOT in public, 
BUT no weigh Jose 
would this generic guy go completely nude
cuz being self-consciousness of my physique 
might prompt outsiders 

to consider me a prude
and even during closed bedroom door 
sexual exploits deter me tibia rude
fellow (with average go daddy long legs) 
and my dangling dipstick smallish 
(concluding biology screwed)
a chap worthy tube he more endowed,

though gratitude proffered
to same divine cosmic consciousness
but as the year's pile up appreciation 
of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude
accepting physical characteristics 
more or less static 
hoe ping belive mass elf ya wood.










Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018