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Meghan Jul 26
I’m sorry I’m so clumsy
Some days it seems like the world is fighting me at every step
And I’m losing the battle
I stumble over every stubborn staircase
I trip over my tongue like an uneven rug
Every new set of walls is a labyrinth I get lost in
Every move I make is disjointed and uncertain
My fingers and feet flail when I’m carrying precious, fragile things
And before I know it I’m sprawled on the floor
Surrounded by shattered fragments
Bruised and aching
Burning with humiliation and frustration

But I’ll try to be careful.
If you will be brave enough to trust me
I will try to keep my steps in line and my path straight
I will try to find the rhythm in the song of my surroundings

I will try to see beyond my limitations
My faults, my failures, my frequent falls
I will try to look up and see the beauty in the world
Instead of staring at my feet in fear
I may trip at times
But I will not be trapped in trepidation

I ask for your patience
I am trying to be patient with myself too
My best is all I can really do
And I will do what I can to be the best for you
Greg Jones Jun 21
HiHowYouDoing?IJustWannaSayHi
IWasStandingWithMyFriendWhenYouWalk­edBy
AndIHaveToSayYouHaveABeautifulSmile
AmIBeingTooForward?OhLet­MeStartOver
SoIHopeEverythingIsGoingOkay
It’sSoNiceOutButLaterITh­inkIt’sGonnaRain
ButHowThisHeatIsIWouldn’tComplain
ActuallyIt’sPe­rfectDayForAnIceCreamCone
There’sAPlaceThatIKnowThat’sPrettyGood
­100%MilkYou’llSayMmmThat’sForSure
It’sNotFarFromHereMaybeTheNextN­eighborhood
Was it...on like, 5th street?
WellMaybeNotNowButICouldTakeYouSometime
ThatIsIfYou’reNot­BusyAndHaveSomeFreeTime
IfWeCouldExchangeNumbersThatWouldBeSublim­e
ItWouldBeMyTreatOfCourseForGoodEats
I’mSorryITalkFastWhenIGetNe­rvous
AndIApologizeForAnyPossibleDisturbance
ButHonestlyThoughItW­asTotallyWorthIt
OhNoI’mStartingToSweatSorry
TextMeIfYou’reIntere­stedInThatIceCreamByTheWay
I’llLeaveYouAloneNow
Goodbye.
Just a dude mad nervous to talk to a girl
OpenWorldView Apr 20
Bereft of words
we sit like fools
across the wooden table.

Eyes swaying shyly
to catch glimpses
of each other.

She turns her head
to hide her flushing cheeks
and rosy curled smile.

Her blooming beauty
stirs hidden butterflies
toward spring blue skies.
First spring love.
I leave a trail of shattered hearts.. so frail..
Clumsy I am...
I have to sadly reject people that ask me out..
Pyrrha Feb 12
You aren't just gold and starlight
you are my every word
my dialect, my stanza, my every thought
you leave me tongue tied

You are my entire language,
you make my speech so clumsy
all my words are tripping over themselves
just to please you and only you

You are my linguist dream,
I love to study the poetry in your veins
the sonnets in your eyes,
the limericks in your lips

You are literature incarnate,
and I worship you
OpenWorldView Oct 2018
I found you.
Different. Imperfect.

A sad and sickly child
alone in a faceless world.

Bland with naïve thoughts
and clumsy manners.

I found you.
Alike. Perfect.
You are not alone in this world.
JAC Oct 2018
How
musical
we feel

brushing
against
each other

a slow dance
of clumsy graces
a waltz in soft touch

socks
on the faux hardwood
kitchen floor.
Crash, bang, wallop
She collided with the shelf
A free standing unit
Until she grabbed it to steady herself

Down did it topple
Raining glass on her head
Sending everything flying
Through the air, what a mess!

Wine glasses, flutes, tumblers
And a vase
All hit the deck
And smashed into shards

Oh, what a racket
And a mess to behold
The nincompoop just stood there
And couldn’t be consoled

But it’s no use crying
Over spilt milk
And in her inebriated state
The thought of cleaning did she jilt

Drunk and disorderly
She sent herself to bed
Knowing that tomorrow
She’d have a thumping head

So leaving shattered
glass
All over the floor
Off did she teeter
To think about it no more

In the afternoon
When at last she awoke
The carpet was glistening
As if covered in snow

It shone and it sparkled
Like a night of a thousands stars
She wondered what’d occurred
Until her memory was jarred

By treading barefoot
Onto a sizeable piece of glass
That tore into her instep
Causing her to curse

Jumping up and down
With stinging, bleeding feet
She surveyed the considerable damage
Shocked at the scene

Of all her lovely glassware
Lying broken on the floor
A shattered picture frame
A teacup that was no more

Oops, thought she
What a flaming disaster
I’d better get a shovel
And hoover up straight after

And so she did
And all was fine
Apart from the ****
Which would heal in time

The moral of this story
Is nail your shelves down
And don’t put glass atop them
If you’re a drunken clown.
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