Mason2910 - Hello Poetry

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.

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Nov 25, 2017

Nov 25, 2017 at 5:24 AM UTC

My Friend Bob

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.

8

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?

0

Nov 23, 2017

Nov 23, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC

Trapped

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?

9

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.

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Nov 21, 2017

Nov 21, 2017 at 6:30 AM UTC

Clockwork

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.

19

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.

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Nov 18, 2017

Nov 18, 2017 at 9:26 AM UTC

Salt

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.

18

Two men turned into three, A case of identity theft but who is to blame? All three filled with glee, They're different people, yet they look the same. The first man is red, his personality was booming. No future ahead, And was always assuming. The orange man stepped up, his smile was fulfilling. Like a newborn pup. He could always be found chilling. The purple man was late to the party, his memes were exotic, though he wasn't very hearty, his very presence was often chaotic. Yet the question goes unanswered, and the culprit unblamed.

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Nov 16, 2017

Nov 16, 2017 at 4:01 AM UTC

Identity Theft

Two men turned into three, A case of identity theft but who is to blame? All three filled with glee, They're different people, yet they look the same. The first man is red, his personality was booming. No future ahead, And was always assuming. The orange man stepped up, his smile was fulfilling. Like a newborn pup. He could always be found chilling. The purple man was late to the party, his memes were exotic, though he wasn't very hearty, his very presence was often chaotic. Yet the question goes unanswered, and the culprit unblamed.

18

Sticky pieces of plastic. Placed inside dispensers. Not as good as glue in any way. Adhesive of the devil.

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Nov 15, 2017

Nov 15, 2017 at 7:31 AM UTC

Satanism

Sticky pieces of plastic. Placed inside dispensers. Not as good as glue in any way. Adhesive of the devil.

4

Glue is real cool and swell and all that But glue can never replace the fun and the joy I have with my friends. We laugh and we jest, we call each other names in good faith. This bond that we share can never be replaced, by an adhesive that I just so happen to be obsessed with.

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Nov 14, 2017

Nov 14, 2017 at 6:05 AM UTC

Warmth

Glue is real cool and swell and all that But glue can never replace the fun and the joy I have with my friends. We laugh and we jest, we call each other names in good faith. This bond that we share can never be replaced, by an adhesive that I just so happen to be obsessed with.

8

I wish I was glue So I could hold us together I wish I was glue So I could get high off my fumes I wish I was glue So I would at least have use But the truth is I'm not glue I can't hold us together I'm not glue I can't get high off my fumes I'm not glue I don't have any use.

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Nov 13, 2017

Nov 13, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC

Purpose

I wish I was glue So I could hold us together I wish I was glue So I could get high off my fumes I wish I was glue So I would at least have use But the truth is I'm not glue I can't hold us together I'm not glue I can't get high off my fumes I'm not glue I don't have any use.

13

My glue My glue walked in My glue stripped My glue danced I glued

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Nov 11, 2017

Nov 11, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC

Materialism

My glue My glue walked in My glue stripped My glue danced I glued

5

The dripping echoing throughout the room I can't see, is this my punishment? Where is the light when I need it most? Darkness consumes me. The endless void draws closer. I cry but no sound exits my lips. It's in my mouth. The dripping is getting closer. I'm scared. But not of the darkness that consumes me or the still endless void. I'm scared of the end.

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Nov 11, 2017

Nov 11, 2017 at 7:48 AM UTC

Gargle

The dripping echoing throughout the room I can't see, is this my punishment? Where is the light when I need it most? Darkness consumes me. The endless void draws closer. I cry but no sound exits my lips. It's in my mouth. The dripping is getting closer. I'm scared. But not of the darkness that consumes me or the still endless void. I'm scared of the end.

12