Short Stapled Poems
Short Stapled Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Stapled by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Stapled by length and keyword.
My first love was called Sue Heather,
I thought I’d love her forever.
We kissed and came to grief:
With braces on her teeth,
She stapled my lips together.
Categories:
stapled, lovelove,
Form:
Limerick
Come get me
when
consciousness stopa
its slaughter
With my crusty crinkled works stapled to
my chest i will read them to you nad allow
that storm to come out of us
Categories:
stapled, poetry, surreal,
Form:
Free verse
Tired is the shallow time
that keeps on ticking, with hands that climb.
Grasping on the beaded minute
and stapled to their winding arms.
Every hour keeps on passing
and yet this face just stays the same.
The gears inside are grinding ages,
how I wish there was a change...
Categories:
stapled, angst
Form:
Free verse
I'm just another player in this game
Left without control I feel no pain
Eyes stapled open to find the attached path
Slave forward and bite the led lash
Stand still
Jump in the air
Get down
Stay off the ground
Rules, guidelines
Follow no stay
Your crazy now sane
Eyes fade so does skin
Now smoke this green
I said ti do this crystal methamphetamine.
Categories:
stapled, abuse,
Form:
I do not know?
The other sex was stapled,
I started unfolding the secret:
what was static and who was silent.
I searched, therefore I was lost
before the end of journey.
The stench of grafting was taking over.
The incendiary recce was carried out
to shut out the voice of the street
in the melting snow.
Lake will find the woods for disquieting
sleep of muse under the blue-lipped moon,
and I will face my night.
Satish Verma
Categories:
stapled, adventure, allegory, angst, animals, anniversary, art
Form:
I do not know?
The other sex was stapled,
I started unfolding the secret:
what was static and who was silent.
I searched, therefore I was lost
before the end of journey.
The stench of grafting was taking over.
The incendiary recce was carried out
to shut out the voice of the street
in the melting snow.
Lake will find the woods for disquieting
sleep of muse under the blue-lipped moon,
and I will face my night.
Satish Verma
Categories:
stapled, art
Form:
I do not know?