A blobfish is ugly,
A blobfish is gross.
However, a blobfish
Does something no one knows.
Have you seen a blobfish look pretty?
When it’s not stressed?
Because only when its endangered
Does it puff out its chest.

Bound to look over the empty population;
Who **** each other,
Hurt each other…
All for the sake of a sick game
The point of life
Surviving
No matter who you have to hurt in the process.
I am bound to the sky,
Looking over the men,
Who are oh so selfish.

But the bird came back, despite what you say,
Despite your thinking it’s better to go away.
The bird came back, the bird is fine,
It isn’t sore from all that flying,
It was just an adventure, one that was worth the pain,
And what would it be without a little bit of wing-sprain.

Chasing my own tail
Biting the feet that walk to me,
Biting the hand that feeds
Biting the same kind
Biting
Nipping
Always
Hurting
Chasing my own tail
Bound to end up back to where I started.

The walls in here are light blue.
And they feel like they are drowning you,
And I feel like there’s nothing I can do.
To resist being taken under the current, too.
The ceilings in here are white,
And freckled with big lights,
And looking too long might cost you your sight.
The people in here are sad,
And the silence makes me mad,
But I know there’s no conversation,
Worthwhile to be had.

Insert a word, letter, or phrase,
And then delete it just as quick.
God, all this writing stuff
Is starting to make me sick.
What words rhyme with vegetable?
Oh, I do not know…
I have no direction with this poem I wish to go.
With a swish of my wrist
And a flick of my hand
Boom! I’ve made a poem…
That nobody can stand.
Make it, erase it,
God what is the difference
It’s simply not as good
As those with a planned sequence