Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2015
My body is unattractive
And women don't like me

Oh well

The body is a tomb
Anyhow

Sometimes I think
Life is incredibly dull

And what's the point
I can't seem to change
My situation

A changing time
A changing place
A changing name
A changing face

But it's really all the same
All the same
It's all a game

It's all a big matrix
A big matrix computer

My plain dull expression
In the reflection
Of my Kenmore fan

Reading articles
Hitting putts
On putting greens for
Hours alone

This must be
What it is all about

As our miserable nation
Teeters on the edge
A nation in economic ruins

Let it fail!
Let the whole thing fail

Lousy politicians and banksters

And all I have is this life
It's really nothing
To get excited about
You know

Heaven better be fun
There better be golf there
Or peace

And there better be women
There to give me a hug
And I better have good friends there

These are the things I want there

The body is a burden

I have become close
To an island

A lonely man
On his lonely island

Wandering wandering
Somewhere random
Banging hiking sticks
On the ground

And look at all the fancy cars
And all the well to do Americans
And aren't they so sure
So confident
In their worthless American dollars

Their toilet paper dollars!

Driving around
With important things to do

As I walk around
With my akward shoulder

Striking sticks against the ground

Hahaha

Is this place all
Just one big joke?

Seems like it I guess

Well I love Jesus
Just as much
As the next Christian

I should take
Some snacks
In a little army
Storage bag

It came with the gas mask
I ordered some time ago
Just for fun

I *******
Because women
Ignore me

Oh well

And why is earth
Such a bore

And maybe I'll go to the mountain

I'll just go to the gym
Again

Remember
Soon it will be
Every man for himself

To the globalist
You are just
A useless eater!
Matt
Written by
Matt  34/M/Los Angeles
(34/M/Los Angeles)   
339
   --- and Aazzy
Please log in to view and add comments on poems