She invited me into her home
I didn't wipe my feet
I didn't bother to take my shoes off
I left footprints all over her floor
I raided her refrigerator and her snack cabinet
I sat on her couch
I laid in her bed
I used her towel to wipe me clean
I put my clothes on
I left without saying thank you
Sometimes when a person is talking to me
And what they're saying is particularly uninteresting
They might get the feeling that I'm not listening
And it's true
Because, mentally, I'm replacing the words they say with a repetition of the phrase:
Would you date me?
Won't you please?
Will you maybe?
And I stare back at them, stone-faced, while thinking:
I would stand by you if you had a better attitude.
I would love you if you were less shallow.
I would fight for you if you had a fight of your own.
I would listen to your problems
if I already didn’t hear them all.
What I wont do, is change for you.
I wouldn’t let you go without letting you know why.
And normally I wouldn’t ask you to change but I think you suck.
My job I really don’t mind,
It’s the people and the work,
Especially the guy next to me,
Who personifies the word “jerk.”
I wish he would do something,
Anything to earn his pay,
Instead he just gets on my nerves,
And my nerves are starting to fray.
This jerk is looking for a better job,
And keeps asking me for advice,
Do I look like a Google search bar?
But instead I just try to be nice.
He actually asked me for a referral,
And I looked at him just fine,
I’d like to give him a referral alright,
To the unemployment line.
This moron better start to realize,
And I hope he does somehow,
That the next job he’ll be applying for,
May be the one he’s holding now.
Your hate for her
Her eyes try to be happy
You don't realize what she's been through
You're inconsiderate jerks
She talented and beautiful
If you don't see it
Then you are blind
Her beauty is within
Take the time to see it
Don't judge her by she talk or walks
Or the scar on her neck
Don't be an inconsiderate jerk
I am your enemy, your "victim."
The ice to your fire, the paper to your scissors,
the blue to your orange.
The point is, I hate you, in case you haven't noticed.
So leave me alone.
Seriously, I cannot take your harsh words anymore.
Go bully someone else.
Lately, as I settle down
on my elevated bed,
ready to sleep
and wake up revived,
t houghts of you
h ave soaked my mind
l ike a flannel
u nder the hot water tap.
T his is unorthodox,
n ormally it's her
w ho stalks my visions
s o why you,
w hy now?
I s this one of those things
t hat's supposed to tell me
' Look 'ere mate,
i t's a sign you're movin' on?'
B ut to this person?
G ive over.
A bit odd in my opinion,
b ut she's not like the others,
t hey're all shacked up
f or the rest of their lives.
P art of me shrieks no,
s he can never know
a nd the other part whispers
j ust go ahead,
s ee where it takes you.
Oh, I was dreaming.
Choice to make.
Explanation: Not my best - a poem written in my own time. The title refers not only to the jerk that people can experience as they fall asleep, but also to the way the text 'jerks' further right as the poem goes on.