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AvengingPoet Sep 2019
I laugh and cry and laugh
And cry again

These mixed emotions
Wondering if this is all there really is

Coffee breaks and tension headaches
And endless droning on in dimly lit halls

Making a measly paycheck
To barely afford the rent

Solace in a fast food sandwich or two
Dying slowly, a calculated death

Life is boring,
We can barely afford it

Giving us no time
Instead of it all

I sit, contemplating it all
Writing these stupid words

Wondering was it all really worth it
Was this the plan along?
Were we the puppets on the string,
Dancing endlessly for the carrot
We won’t obtain?

I shall never know.
DC Hall Jul 2019
Men have had their bodies
and souls destroyed by machinery.
Hollow cogs and cold-blooded gears
grind through the better part of the day.
Relentless and unapologetic
Feeding on the dreams of a far away beach
A cabin upstate
or the delusion of retirement.
Dreams that slowly slip away
as your body deconstructs.
This is not a life to envy
Why do we endure

Is this what a dollar costs?
Andrew Hartnett Dec 2018
We clanked our wine glasses together
Suits for the occasion
And I tried to remember the names
Especially the ones who’s faces I recognize
One man in particular looks older than I remember, with a haircut far too young
Talking all about
The deal of the last year
Maybe a Christmas bonus this year
So he can go home to his wife
“Look honey we can buy another car”
And maybe this time she won’t sleep
With the neighbor
I shake his hand hard because the poor old b*stard needs something
And maybes its this extravagant event
guys like me shaking his hand firm enough
That he knows he’s important somewhere
And we are all impressed by his hard work and loyalty
Sky Yang Jun 2018
Somewhere
in the middle of New York
a white-and-blue,
Pacific island:

...
sitting on itself,
prim and low
as if waiting for someone important, but
not wanting to seem so.

sitting on itself,
as if waiting for someone,
many boats go by
(no, not that one...)
(not that one, either...)

sitting on itself,
small and proper
proper and small...
(**** is wet)

sitting on itself...
I wonder How long
has he been sitting there like that,
won't his
feet be cold?
**** be wet?

The lonely island...

he wishes someone would come and sit beside him

sit close but
not too close, as if
friends.
in the past few lives but,
not in this one (yet)

he wishes someone would come and sit beside him

quietly for a moment
then turn to him and say,
with sparkling Pacific angel eyes
turn to him and say,

"The world needs you, Steve."

And Steve would continue staring off into the distant, blue horizon where
there's not much, save for a
distant, blue horizon
...

but pigeons are not gulls,
gulls are not pigeons.

and the Hudson River
is 315 miles long.

"My name isn't Steve."
Ayda Zaire Sep 2017
Nine to five and a sigh
Forsaken poesy goes to die.
The monotony of a sated dream.
Johnny Q Apr 2016
I'm walking on my own
through my tunnel
Cars wait in line
impatient waves of bright lights
flash through the dark
Do you remember when it was just us
in the jungle?

A dark man asks for my ticket
I show him your picture and move on
Robots cower behind the steering wheel
Repeating one phrase forever
"We'll never get out of here
but you might
and that's the deal"

When a fire breaks out in my tunnel
I'll try and run right through
Ignore the burning
Shake the ashes off my arm.

In here, there's no sun or rain or snow
Just a numb grey glow
I don't want to look back to the past
but sometimes I might.
That's my tunnel
and you're my light.
my mouth mechanically moves
wouldyoulikeabaghereisyourreceiptthankyousomuchforcominginh­aveaniceday
i wonder how many times i have said the same sentence in the last half hour
as those recycled, rearranged letters
squeak, tired, from the middle of my throat
a laugh, fake, tense, comes from my nose
as i feel what little soul there was in me to begin with
die
this can't be it
this can't be all there is
the helpless thoughts slide sluggishly by
what is the point of surviving so much
when this is all i have to look forward to?
Lucas Keith Sep 2013
I saw them frenzied and purposeless.
  I saw them hectic and hurried.
    Wayward ants with no queen, no
       direction.
Madness of movement, building… fixing.
  To no end, they continued, ashes
     and rubble bequeathed new crowns.
        Shiny modern facades and feats.
They weren't in union, isolated incidents.
   Unbound by laws, but held by expectation.
      Ignored cries, human deprivation, and
        dreamless sleeps till death.
Progress protected fleshy robots, preserving
   the fevered pointless rushing.
     I saw them pretending to live, to connect.
       I saw them die, become dust, pounded
          into cement and forgotten.
I saw them cold and apathetic.
   I saw them with falsetto smiles, screeching
      sincerity, while left hand denying it.
         I saw them fade, to nature and ghosts.
Justin G Nov 2015
I know we all are bleeding, but only a few of us can feel the hurt.*

I welcome you hatred
My sweet remedy
Keep me company
Protect me from envy
Change this jail cell
Back into a bedroom
Allow me to feed you
The absence in my kitchen
Enjoy the neglect
And come bathe with me
Cleanse me of this solicitude
If you wait in my living room
You will find no such living
In the name of peace
Help me **** the loom
Compel me to clutch
Lethal artillery
Aid me in this internal combat
Loan me retribution
Please stay for desert
I need you to meet
the friends who left
Teach me distrust
Teach me disgust
Numb me of the pain
Make me undead
Just before you
make my bed
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