Society detests innocence
Often shaking hands with ignorance
Exchanging phone numbers with bliss.
We hate it cause we’re jealous.
So we send loaded words their way.
Our mouths, like pistols
shooting bullets full of hate.
Someday we shall see the error of our ways.
Until then,
******
We call him.
He who has yet to be used,
Or more so, use another for pleasure
****** and then leave a woman and a ******
on a Hotel’s bathroom floor,
alone and broken.
Square.
We say
To she who has never felt the itch.
Needed so badly to scratch it
and get her fix
that she steal from her two month old daughters college fund
so she can fly away and forget….
Try as we may, we never forget
How it feels to fall from the sky.
So, we know how to make a mockingbird cry.
We know how to make a mockingbird cry.
And we know how it feels
to **** one
Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 8:02 AM UTC
Society detests innocence
Often shaking hands with ignorance
Exchanging phone numbers with bliss.
We hate it cause we’re jealous.
So we send loaded words their way.
Our mouths, like pistols
shooting bullets full of hate.
Someday we shall see the error of our ways.
Until then,
******
We call him.
He who has yet to be used,
Or more so, use another for pleasure
****** and then leave a woman and a ******
on a Hotel’s bathroom floor,
alone and broken.
Square.
We say
To she who has never felt the itch.
Needed so badly to scratch it
and get her fix
that she steal from her two month old daughters college fund
so she can fly away and forget….
Try as we may, we never forget
How it feels to fall from the sky.
So, we know how to make a mockingbird cry.
We know how to make a mockingbird cry.
And we know how it feels
to **** one
Copyright © 2010 J.M. Romig. All rights reserved.- From Destination: Detour - The Mini Chapbook
Request permission to use this poem