Best Lunchroom Poems
I told you so, yes?
Why do so many thrive on this?
You feel bad enough.
Well now that you have gone and turned me on
I guess im now definitely going to be taking you home
Just know that i got to wake up early to mow the lawn
Because that was the only thing that rhymed in the poem
And the feeling i get whenever you catch my stare
Is like healing a secret with the passing of air
Whats the deal though you dont return my glare
You know what i want to steal it could never be fair
But by the end of this night ill have pillaged your village
And know that ill never stop pressing or keep you guessing
You have appealed to my picky liking baby ill be your viking
Oh and i hope you dont mind if i call you baby because im definitely not shady
But as im watching you drink that drink
Im starting to think
As my peripherals catch your movement
I want to savor the moment
But with the unfortunate passing of the everlasting time
This moment could never be lasting because its almost tomorrow
And the only thing that ive wanted more than time is for you to be mine
Because lady i dont mean to sound shallow
But you turn me on
She removes her hands from her face
to reveal harlequin tears
strolling down salt colored cheeks
that glare with a thin layer of blush.
Green eyes gloss over
and pour out in public.
Her boyfriend carries on.
He laughs and he plays,
while she sits next,
while her entirety bleeds
out in salt water ectoplasm.
She runs her hands
through firey red and orange dyed hair.
Her eyes dry;
take a look inside
and one can see her hurt.
She hurts, she hurts, she hurts.
If the eyes are windows,
I can look through
and see a monster.
It jumps from organ to organ.
The monster climbs ontop,
punches, digs its long, yellow nails
into each.
We've all suffered that monster.
It's a distilled sickness
that wears a cloak of paranoia,
rests it over one's shoulders
to watch them squirm.
A common ailment
we have all experienced, or will.
I have,
You have,
The potbellied harlot on Main St.
The teachers,
The Cubans,
The old Russians.
Fret not,
For with the expulsion
of this lunatic demon
Comes life,
Comes wisdom,
Comes strength,
Comes a new appreciation.
So raise your chin, young cherub,
look up child, young, fragile darling.
Your day looms anxiously
as it waits to blanket you.
One day, you will meet the King Of Men.
He will shine bright in your teary eyes.
Think high, apple blossom.
Wade on through your tears;
allow yourself the chance to bloom.
She gets her jollies from standing in front of the mirror
Playing with her headlights, pretending she is not feeling herself up.
I am shocked. This is his mother he is talking about right?
Oh, his sister. Okay. Better….
I try to write another sentence, but cannot think.
And that crazy Erin. She is a nut-bucket. She paints her skin.
She puts flecks of red on her wrists, and tells people she cut herself.
The closest she ever gets to a knife is at breakfast
and it has marmalade on it.
I wish he would talk at someone else, but I am the only one here,
trying to be alone.
I am only half listening to him now; it is weird that he is noticing
this stuff, especially the stuff about his sister.
I start pulling hairs out of my nose with my peanut butter laced finger.
It does me good, and keeps me from totally hearing this nut bucket.
I stare at my paper where six poems should have been.
The lunchroom has never been undisturbed since he came to work here.
Starting tomorrow I shall lunch in my room, under my desk.
microwave shortage
not enough time to eat lunch
I guess eat it cold
where did all of the friendly faces go?
the people i was just gossiping to in my math class?
the people who i've stayed up all night talking to?
the people that i would trust if my life depended on it?
i guess they're gone.
their tables full of girls who look exactly the same.
high pitched laughter at some stupid joke no one cares about.
and here i am.
standing in the middle of the lunchroom.
i just wanted to eat my food.
i walk over to an empty table and set down my tray.
my eyes scan over the rows and rows of people.
twenty minutes ago, i was doubled over laughing with them.
now i can barely manage a smile.
i can feel their eyes on my back.
i can feel their fake-pitied whispers.
they must really feel bad for me, huh?
well here i am.
standing in the middle of the lunchroom.
i just wanted to eat my food.
my food is cold now.
my phone is almost dead.
my head hurts.
i just want to go home.
it hurts when all you want is to fit in.
it hurts when the people you've known for years ignore you.
and god, it hurts when what should be the best part of your day
turns into this.
i'm not even hungry anymore.
but here i am.
standing in the middle of the lunchroom.
when all i ever wanted
was a friend.