See the old man,
by the alley,
by the sidewalk,
by the city.

Buy the teapot,
in the window,
in the shop,
in the city.

See the crooks,
in dark allies,
in dark corners,
in the city.

See the mayor,
by his lonesome,
not so lonesome,
******'s pretty.

The quiet marching of the drums,
towards endless shenanigans and fun.

Sweet and sour, you count down the hour,
when the time comes, you will cower.

Touch the stone walls,
in the park,
in the center,
of the city.

Hear the cars,
on the road,
on the highway,
in the city.

Smell the stench,
of the liars,
of the ignorant,
of the city.

Taste the sweat,
of the beat,
of the heat,
of the city.

And when the city gets to you,
promise me you'll know what to do.

Just come out to the country,
and visit me.

Those little orange bottles,
Who drown the bedside table.
A melting *** of colors and shapes,
I obviously am not stable.

Only a few,
Was all mom ever knew,
Before I went to sleep.
She soon found me,
Covered in *****,
Passed out in a bundle of sheets.

Oh, how rude.
I am being so vile.
I really haven't talked about this,
In quite the longest while.

Maybe I need more pills.
More pills to 'help' me survive.
More therapy,
More pity.
Oh, no thank you,
I'll be fine.

if you gently take my hand
and lead me
into the ocean of your love

don’t be surprised if,
when you leave me there to drown in your piercing silence,

i destroy myself,
fighting to get back to shore.

-Jenny Jen Cat

This is a poem about any teenage girl.
When she tries, sometimes she fails,
But most of the time, when she thinks she fails,
She really didn’t.
Even so, when she fails, she cries.
When she cries, she hides it.
When she hides it, she’s pretending.
When she’s pretending, she isn’t being herself.
When she isn’t being herself she becomes one of millions,
Lost in the sea of girls who are only trying to become people that they’re not.
Tossed by waves of propriety, undulating in the tears she keeps to herself and those of others.
She can’t find solid ground to stand on; there’s no way she can stay afloat.
She reaches out her arm to try and grab onto someone, someone she thinks is strong,
Only to find that they are slowly sinking too.

I met a woman on a city bus named Maude.
I stuck my gum under the seat in a ***.
She called me a sod,
I gave her a nod
and said, "it's 'cause I don't believe in God."

At the time, I know I was smilin'
in an effort to appear so beguilin'.
My beliefs, I'd been filin'.
Subjected God to no trialin'.
Others shoes, I never thought to walk a mile in.

Dear Father, who art in Heaven,
Is my faith but in Armageddon?
If I see no leaven,
I'll gather my brethren,
and return to the Seven Eleven.

All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth—
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites!
Sweetest breath and clearest eye
Like perfumes go out and die;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain the ambition of kings
Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,
And weave but nets to catch the wind.