Pigs squeal
They also lie
Wudja expect
from a creature
that lives in a sty
Squeal
Scream
Laugh
Shut up!
Hey!
Chuckle Chuckle
Rumble
Roar
Shriek
I got a….
You want to see…..
My….
Thirty-six fourth graders at lunch.
Standing on the crest of my life
Reached with punch and some fire
Wonder I still, what the squeal
Of the gate closing be like
Carrying as it might be
A message lurking
That the years of indulgence
Of running as free as a deer
On the highlands boundless
Of thoughts and abstraction
And of diligence and sweat
Had run out of steam
To be never refired again
As in time would stop by
The Retirement,
To take its final call.
Currently wearing an old pair jeans
Six inch smaller waist since getting lean
Can't stop my high pitch squealing
Hope to soon get down from the ceiling
Friends holding ears, faces bright yellow green
let's go parking in the desert
you know that you want to
open up the moon-roof
and neck like a couple of fools
a million stars overhead
a full moon lights the sky
it's a little cramped
that's why these seats slide
let's pretend that we are teens
as I leave a mark on your neck
you'll need to wear high collars
oh but what the heck
let's pop in a cd
and listen to some tunes
while you are kissing on me
I'll be kissing on you
we'll have to keep one eye open
to watch out for patrol cars
they shouldn't be looking for parkers
but rousting drunks in bars
ouch, my leg is hurting
it hit the steering wheel
your back is almost breaking
but honey you make me squeal
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.