Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
What is that sound? tick tick, tick tock. It’s really quite odd, I don’t own a clock. It’s ninety one past thirteen, wait, that can’t be right. Time for another pill, medicinal light. Just smile, and nod, until your cheeks hurt. Now laugh, pull it back, compliment their new shirt. It’s orange, no it’s red, **** what is that hue? What do you mean it’s white? It’s ******* pastel blue. Now throw out a joke, and some proper context. Good job, you failed, like an impotent sext. You’re talking too loud, oh Jesus, shut up. How much have you drank? Really? One cup?! Finger guns now, and a smooth exit we go. Ya that wasn’t awkward, you nailed it, fo sho.
0
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
Awkward
What is that sound? tick tick, tick tock. It’s really quite odd, I don’t own a clock. It’s ninety one past thirteen, wait, that can’t be right. Time for another pill, medicinal light. Just smile, and nod, until your cheeks hurt. Now laugh, pull it back, compliment their new shirt. It’s orange, no it’s red, **** what is that hue? What do you mean it’s white? It’s ******* pastel blue. Now throw out a joke, and some proper context. Good job, you failed, like an impotent sext. You’re talking too loud, oh Jesus, shut up. How much have you drank? Really? One cup?! Finger guns now, and a smooth exit we go. Ya that wasn’t awkward, you nailed it, fo sho.
Jacktorrance
Written by
40/M/Oklahoma
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem