Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
Living in this yellow box filled with aging trinkets
A lonely guy trying to get by just hasn't sealed the link yet
Bout a cup of milk left in the fridge and God forbid I drink it
A shaggy dog; that ***** hog, why can't they smell the stink yet?
The junk comes barreling through the door so fast that you can blink it
There's no more room for gloom and doom, but let's fit one more inkjet
They just got rid of dinnerware, Β a silver and a pink set
So now to hoard an ancient sword, a blender and a mink set
Five garbage bags of someone's clothes, the sixth one's in the sink, wet
With lots of cans and pots and pans, we'll reach the jagged brink yet
They're trying to let go, said there ain't no space to think yet
They're workin hard to raise the bar, ain't Β worked out all the kinks yet

Pressed for time and low on space
****** I need to get out of this place...
hoarding
Anthony Casamassima
Written by
Anthony Casamassima  35/Cisgender Male/United States, NC
(35/Cisgender Male/United States, NC)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems