A lunar cycle passed in memoriam of them
Who helped paving the road to unity
Yet sought the warmth of the sun
The golden gleam shone brightly on the pass
They marched forward
A staple in the system deemed unmatched
An adhesive bond, firmly grasped
Although double-checked it dissipated
The roadmaker came to a fall
Falling silently, they let out a final cry
As the path cracked in time
The road distorted into contortion
What seemed like a peaceful road
Ended up a jagged pass
The falling abruptly ended
The hands that reached out to them
Embraced them in a livid bloom
Of effervescent warmth
I stood amongst the occasion
To guide the roadmaker, creator of the stars
To guide them to their ultimate path
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 6:59 PM UTC
Grab a feather
Open your soul.
Grab some paper
Make it your own.
And a small feather
Shall be a brush,
And a small paper
Your poems' canvas.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC
Depression, depression
I have depression.
Of course I'm just kidding.
I don't have depression.
I bury my feelings,
beneath my exterior.
You think this is serious,
but this is about glue.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 5:24 AM UTC
''As I saw you standing there
Eyes teary amongst the mass
I took you in,,
''As I saw you standing there
My legs were shaking
You held me dear,,
''As I took you in
You never saw the daylight again,,
''As you took me in
I knew I was at home,,
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 7:25 AM UTC
Her hair smelled of roses, her body curvy in places.
We've been together for months, a destination was set.
I arrived at her house, it was all quiet
Her parents had left us all by ourselves
I unbuckled my pants, she pulled down her *******
It was standing ***** my glue stick was ready.
I grabbed hold of my stick, and she grabbed hers.
Wait, what?
My girlfriend's a dude?
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC
Perhaps it is time, I return to my roots.
Abandoned the topic, never let it bear fruits.
I have grown thin, my feet unfit for its boots.
But linger no longer, I shall return to my roots.
The clockwork gears begin to spin and words connect.
The cobwebs severed, time repairs the neglect.
The pieces of the puzzle slowly conjoin, my pencil *****
I write down my lines, my latest project.
You know me as glue or Glueboi if preferred.
I know what you think, poems about glue are quite absurd.
But the line between glue and my soul has become blurred.
Gears are in motion, I've returned to my roots, no need to reword.
My effort is rewarded, the project is complete.
A poem about glue that no other poet can beat.
A poem which will be welcomed into the halls of the elite.
My victory tastes oh so sweet.
My anticipation rises, a chance to share with the world once more.
My magnum opus will be shared, my dark world will grow brighter.
It spreads its wings and soars.
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC
A man of glue
When a conversation is due
assures noone is blue
As he is the man of glue
A man of glue, or glue guy is you rather
To him you are not some other
Instead you are just another
Friendly, interesting and unique brother
A man of glue, who introduces the world of poetry
And can write poems about glue that the world has never seen
He's introduced people such as me
To poetry deserving of making history
The man of glue, though he is unusual
Will change your dull life, and give it renewal
One minute he's talking about anime, the next steel beams and jet fuel
He's is known by many other titles, though not as memorable as the man in glue
Perhaps one day he will realise, and read this poem
From a person who knows him
Will he know that it's me?
Let's just wait and see
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 5:38 AM UTC
Father, apparently I am the glue man.
When people mention me, that's all they know.
If given the chance, I would've ran
but my shoes are covered in glue, making me slow.
I never asked to be the glue man,
my life slowly loses its meaning.
Mother, remember how I mentioned I was a glue man?
To be honest, I consider myself more of a glue boy.
You aren't here anymore though you always had a plan.
I wonder if these poems about glue are starting to annoy?
I never asked to be the glue man,
my life no longer has meaning.
Do I even have anyone to speak to?
To remind that I'm the glue man?
The only thing left to do is chug my glue.
It'll take me back, back before it all began.
I never asked to be the glue man,
my existance never really mattered.
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 9:26 AM UTC