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Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
I feel funky,
I feel kooky,
I’ve been bold;
Making music with a rubber band.

It’s been spooky,
And at times a little kooky.
I’ve been bold;
Making music with a rubber band.

Sometimes boys will ask to play !
Sometimes girls will play away !
Funky !
Kooky !
Music with a rubber band!
Spooky !
Kooky !
Music with a rubber band!
I’ve been bold;
Making music with a rubber band !
Condoms, safe ***, poly-amorous precautions!
Song link below>>>
Madison Y Sep 2016
I’ve been thinking about
How they’d find me if I’m the next
Set to sleep in a velvet-lined box.

Clear nail polish,
Wide eyes and porcelain skin,
But a tattoo hidden beneath my white
Ralph Lauren blouse,
Just below my right breast.
I got it when I was sixteen, searching
For reasons to breathe.

There’d be slits in my wrists
From a watch that was always too tight,
My hair would be knotted, frayed,
Out of place for the first time, in tatters
And freshly women patterns
Of thread, home
To a spider or two.

Maybe they’d look in my purse,
Hoping for some ID,
And they’d find the pack of condoms
Tucked in the zippered compartment,
Or the Lortab saved from my trip
To the oral surgeon’s—God knows
The pain didn’t go away.

My feet would be covered in dirt,
And there’d be scratches on my
Bare legs. They’d take pictures, shake
Their heads, tsk

What a waste,
But I’d say
Nothing at all. To me,
The alley behind the smoke shop
May as well be a velvet box.
Äŧül Feb 2016
Saint Valentine didn't know me,
He had no idea about the future,
And now, blatant Valentine's lies,
Time & again and even yet again,
For love I wholeheartedly strive,
But all I get is fake, fake feelings.

Not blaming Valentine am I now,
He sure gave a reason to spend,
Both time as well as the silver dirt,
Indirectly popping employment,
Not just for few - even for me & you,
Don't we try working harder daily?

Just in hopes of finding a better day,
Of course we want more silver dust,
A good job & a fuller-heavier pocket,
Men try hard for earning enough,
Women try harder for respect,
Don't they all selfishly strive,
Do their wishes get fulfilled?

What do the MBA's always market?
Lingerie & diamonds for the lover,
Do they not try to sell love away,
Love stuffed into teddy bears,
Lust dripping from the multiflavoured condoms,
And what else do they want to sell,
Do the cakes not suffice with all that fattening cream,
Or the cream-filled chilled/hot doughnuts?
Just a word: Be smart, don't spend extravagantly on stupid items for your lover and instead save money for future or rather donate it to some good cause.

If your love is pure and the lover is true at heart, then the relationship will survive the troughs, twists, turns and tests of time without the need for such extravaganza.

Think what good use you could have put the money you just wasted on the binge Valentine's week spendthrift spending...

Live life not in this moment, live wise, plan for the future and save well. If you have no worries for the future, donate happiness to a social cause.

My HP Poem #1027
©Atul Kaushal
Tomaz Dean Aug 2015
Regrets is left is behind,
funny,so funny,
I thought I gonna make it,
It's coming,It's coming,
4 months later ,
She called me,
Bad news or good news,
It's both,
"Honey,Im pregnant"
I laugh,she cried
Is it my fault or she?
That day,Those Weeks
"Im 18 honey",So with me,
Funny,so funny
That **** plastic wont work,
Funny,so funny
my"Honey" family,
Turn to Poison,
Just because my religion,
They Rejected me,
Funny,so funny,
The Gift is Died,
I wonder what He would likes,
Careful people,It's can Burst
1 Sept
Matt Apr 2015
Maybe we should have
A worldwide rule
One child per family

Not to sound too harsh
But this earth can't take
A big increase in population

Do the earth a favor
Limit yourself to one child!

For goodness sakes wear a rubber
Mother earth will thank you
Aaron Knockovich Apr 2014
To my socks,
We play footsie every day,
I can't go anywhere without you.
To my socks,
You are like a ******,
when my feet are without you,
They are susceptible to great danger.
With you,
Less so.
When in shoes,
Without you, is like a sweaty, fiery hell,
No relief.
With you,
Soft, comfy, footy majestic ness.
Walking on cold floors,
You are still there for me.
Even for that poor boy Richard, he uses socks now and then,
For his silly foot,
Poor boy.
I admire you dear socks,
They're is nothing else I would rather have on my feet.

— The End —