Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2019
i can only write what i know

otherwise it’s fiction
which sadly tends
  to be more exciting

people get uglier by the day:
social recluses in some nightclub
hunch further below quasimodo
posting woke quotes
and autosexual photos

   while some poor *******
tries to find the right words
to send his dead friend off
with enough facebook love
so he feels loved

and let me ask you this:
when has pop fiction ever
come true


to name a few:
2001: a space odyssey
1984 and
the wreck of the titan: or, utility

if i’m alive
   long enough
i may rewrite fiction into fact

i may outlive this boring life
and all its success

and be constantly
on the watch
for facts
  of death

face-wrecked on some beach
no pornstar would ever take
her clothes off in
let alone a loved one

spending the last of my days
    watching misdirected love
in a room
curtains drawn
the only slit of light
through an apple
computer screen
only to be filled with
some other man's day

them ****** corporate snakes
are always tempting us
mere mortals for just a morsel

the bible was right


with a *** bottle washed up in my belly
the message read: bile on my desk

with me lying dead
my blank pages filled
with sick

i can only write what i know
don’t blame me for the mess
Written by
Haris  28/M/Scotland
Please log in to view and add comments on poems