But my heart is in shards.

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.

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

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.

monkeys giraffe buffalo ape
snail and spiders together ate,
hippo zebra croc'o'birb
emu is the strongest bird.
cats and boots and deers and goose
human do indeed like noose.

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.

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