Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
lostncoldPoems
Ok so fine I have a few bad habits Being a optimist though I tend to look at them as souvigneirs Drug addictions are simply memerobilia My love for you is a item that hold no true meaning Yet I hoard it like a broken mother Whos son died at war and 17 years 4 months and 30 days later Still sleeps with his blanket And favorite teddy bear as a child As a disguise I hide what most people Would consider misdominers (Don't let your eyes fool you every last one of them is treasure) Well, I hide them Under my bed In the back of my closet My heart You know, all those dark, dusty, empty n overdue for a cleaning Type places.. Because I've got knick knacks and trinkets (You were supposed to read that in the little mirmaids voice) Point is they all have no uses And absolutely no meaning... I think.. Unless love means something... And that song I wrote for you back in march, which you have never heard is actually still playing out of a stereo on the counter top of the kitchen in the apartment I built for you to live in In my heart Abandoned Now full of mistakes I've been trying to hide.
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Untitled
Ok so fine I have a few bad habits Being a optimist though I tend to look at them as souvigneirs Drug addictions are simply memerobilia My love for you is a item that hold no true meaning Yet I hoard it like a broken mother Whos son died at war and 17 years 4 months and 30 days later Still sleeps with his blanket And favorite teddy bear as a child As a disguise I hide what most people Would consider misdominers (Don't let your eyes fool you every last one of them is treasure) Well, I hide them Under my bed In the back of my closet My heart You know, all those dark, dusty, empty n overdue for a cleaning Type places.. Because I've got knick knacks and trinkets (You were supposed to read that in the little mirmaids voice) Point is they all have no uses And absolutely no meaning... I think.. Unless love means something... And that song I wrote for you back in march, which you have never heard is actually still playing out of a stereo on the counter top of the kitchen in the apartment I built for you to live in In my heart Abandoned Now full of mistakes I've been trying to hide.
Written by
lostncold
CT
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem