Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2010
If I were an opened can of pop,
You know what I'd be right now?

Flat.

That,
Is a horrible thing to be,
Cause you see,
I am up and bubbly fresh,
Now down,
Gloomy doomy death.

I am moss on crack,
Growing out of floor,
Covering the world,
And wanting more.

Cause you see,
When a blind man falls,
I like to laugh,
Because he doesn't know when the ground
Is going to hit him in the face,
And when it does,
He's so surprised
Like "How the hell did you get all the way to my face?"

Then I, come up to him
Laughing,
And say,
"You met it halfway!"

And run like a *****.

But I'm flat,
And that,
*****.

Like a straw set in a frosty milkshake,
Set between two starry eyed lovebirds,
And as they are about to indulge in the yumminess
Of the creamy bounty before them,
The eye of the guy,
Catches the sight of the girl,
Who's not sitting in front of him,
Passing on the by,
Catching his eye,
And his girl is soon by his side,
With a look on her face,
That could stop a race,
Dead in it's place,
For the fear of the world coming apart at the seems,
And he, knows, it.

She knows what he thought
When he saw what he saw,
And when he stuttered and sputtered,
She had heard it all,
Just not in so many words,
So much for these lovebirds.

She said what she felt,
He heard every word,
Then she turned and sped out,
He went quickly after,
And every one heard what he tried to shout.
And bursted into tears,
At the humor that was there,
Far less did his attempts,
Even try to fare.

It was told through the day,
From ear to ear,
"You had to be there"
They said with tears.

"But baby wait,
This is too much,
Come on, let's go back,
Our milkshake hasn't even been touched!"

And guess what?
I feel like that straw,
Feeling so lonely,
Nerves getting raw,
Listening to the fight,
Knowing this ain't right,
I should be cold,
But with the heat of lips,
Caught between sweet nothings,
And sweeter sips.

So you see,
What I see?
Feel,
What I felt?
How it just stood there,
While the milkshake,
It melt.
Leaving it in a puddle,
No one would drink,
And being wasted like that,
Poured down the sink.

Makes you think.
That,
It must be horrible,
To be,
Flat.
Written by
Micheal Bevan
2.6k
   Sajini Israel and Ams
Please log in to view and add comments on poems