Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2017
Once upon a time there lived a ****
who had nothing better to do
than masquerade as a human being,
all the while resenting everything around him.
His days were long and dark
and nothing ever seemed quite real.
People would avoid him in the street,
cross it if they felt so inclined,
a clear pavement in front of him at all times.

The sun made him sweat,
the moon made him freeze,
no happy in-between for the ****.
People screamed and ran away
at just the sight of him,
how those people would run.
His genes were not necessary
for the continuation of the species
so thank **** he never had children.

A lowly street-***** took pity on him,
invited him to her room
and ****** his brains out all night long,
using a ****** of course,
even street-****** have some standards.
After he was done, the **** muttered an apology
and left as the sun began to rise.

They struck up a friendship nevertheless,
the ***** getting the **** to do her bidding
while she lay back and thanked
everyone else on his behalf.
The ***** was only interested in money,
it didn’t matter what the guy looked like
so long as she acquired gold
in some vain attempt to keep herself beautiful.
Women only go for men
they think will keep them beautiful.

The ***** soon became fed up with the ****.
Too busy lying on her back
with her legs spread-eagled
like an overgrown cavern entrance
to listen to his questions.
So off he went, once again,
into a world that hated him.

The **** never saw the ***** again,
but heard her name from time to time.
He hoped beyond all hope
that her life had turned just as **** as his.
It did. He heard rumours that she killed herself
because she never cared enough for others,
then when she needed help, no one was there,
so she had enough and hanged herself.
The **** smiled ever-so-slightly
despite the tears building in his eyes.
You do well outliving a *****.
The world grew a little more colourful.
Michael J Simpson
Written by
Michael J Simpson  31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland
(31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland)   
487
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems