Squeam Poems


Too Late For Love

Huddled up at the edge of my seat,
the first day started with me so forlorn..
Glancing around so lost and beat,
desperately wishing for a miracle to be born..



Something allured the corner of my eyes,
and there she was, my first crush..
I who believed first sight love were all lies,
was transfixed at the spot all blushed and red..



Minutes snowballed incessantly to hours,
as i spent the day instilled by this new found power..
Bright and beautiful was she with her lovely scent,
which i swear would make Venus pout and pant..



The year went by like a fast moving stream,
neither did i harden up nor did i squeam..
What really mattered was that i got wiser
with time and reconsidered my fervours..



The day arrived which i dreaded the most,
which was supposed to warm up the frost,
and reconcile envious souls lost..
She was just not someone in my life,
it dawned upon me all too late..
Still i strained myself to say goodbye,
realizing how she evaded my days from ill fate..




And there i was faking a smile,
despite our split screen sadness..
which i learnt days after awhile,
that she had underwent the same harness..
Of my heart over hers and hers over mine..
Categories: squeam, lost love, love, school,
Form: I do not know?

Control Your Imagination

shh

shh

listen

it's best not to scream

look at the creatures before you

it's hard not to squeam

they're terrifiyng

they're frightning

they reach to the skys

they're teeth are bigger than my fist

but they don't punch 

they dive

shh

shh

don't make a sound

these creatures could hear you living

try to breath a little less

your chest I see is heaving

your heart beating is direct

but don't worry 

they're to busy

tearing off that flesh

they have begun their eating

so to them we're not a threat

shh

shh

stop stirring little boy

the little girl in front of you

was just a little toy

...well now she's just nothing

just slabs of rotting flesh

it's a good thing they got the best of her

cause to us

they'd do rest

shh

shh

why are you crying now?

it's not my fault your sick in the head

made up these beastly things that wet your bed

you have the power to make them go away

but instead your just watching them

shredding off her face...
Categories: squeam, confusion, imagination
Form: Rhyme


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