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I am so convenient.
You’ll find me where I’m needed,
To he and him and they,
You think I don’t need to be heeded.
I am so amenable.
Always kind, accommodating.
My man, my friend, my father,
Always cooperating.
I’m sick of only sometimes,
But I won’t complain out loud.
My drug, my grace, my enemy
I’ll never make you proud.
I hope I’ll become difficult,
Say no with insolence.
To men, to you, to anyone,
I won’t be so convenient.
Josephine Wilea Jul 2020
Don’t kid yourself
They’re only your friend when they
need a ride
have no plans
want some reassurance
are in pain.

Don’t kid yourself.
They’re only your friend when
it’s convenient.
I believe this called being "used."
Maria Mitea May 2020
Each one sat on a bane rock, facing
how silence installed in the most disabusing way.

It was convenient, and conning ...
Disabusing BLT :)
Phelelisiwe May 2019
As seconds turn into minutes
Minutes into hours
Ours was never the best love
Love of convenience
Convenient it was for others
Others with the best picture portrayed
Portrait displeasing to our eyes
Eyes that never lied
Lying here now wondering
Wondering if it was worth it
Worth all these years
Years of pain
Pain that brought sadness
Sadness inflicted to our children
Children were our blessing
Blessing we love
Love of convenience
Conveniently it was worth it
Worth it was it though?
pleasing other people while you are suffering
ms reluctance Apr 2019
One-click shopping,
instant payment –  
so convenient;
so ******* easy
to cross over
from being a shopper
to a low-key hoarder.

I don’t buy expensive stuff.
No, nothing excessive.

Just read about a new book,
must-read of the season,
rave reviews on Goodreads.
Available on Amazon?
Yes, it also has a Kindle version.
(See,
even though there is no comparison
between the warmth of a paperback
and the cool efficiency of e-books,
I prefer my Kindle simply because  
it’s easier to carry multiple books.)
So I click – buy – get it.
Now it sits
in merry company  
of all the books I bought
so ******* conveniently
while I keep rereading the books
I’ve already read.  

Don’t get me started  
on my obsession with stationery.
Is there any feeling better
than writing on blank paper?
Seeing your busy thoughts
fall in neat lines,
march in formation,
until they reveal the idea underneath.
I keep browsing through the section
of notebooks, journals, diaries,
pencils, pens – oh, there are so many kinds!
I click – buy – get it.
A moment of ecstasy
when the I get the delivery
even though I mostly jot down
any sudden flash of inspiration  
on my phone because it’s always handy.

Getting bigger?  
Get larger jeans.
No need to stand trial  
before judgemental eyes
of the “helpful” salesperson.
Sidestep the self-esteem crisis,
just click – buy – get it.
Easy return policy;
quick refund if it does not fit.

Idly scrolling on social media
and I’m bombarded
with some choice targeted marketing.
How can I refuse
such a customised bait?
Hook, line, click on the link –
there – it’s not that expensive,
nothing too excessive.
I’ll buy that yellow dress,
those cute strappy sandals,
the quirky socks,
ooh a new mascara!
Wear the dress once and chuck it aside,
then go back to cycle the same five outfits.
Put on the mascara,
bat my eyes in jubilation,
then banish it to the drawer
because it gets on my contacts
and causes irritation.

I can go on and on and wax poetic
about the wonders of window-shopping
from the comfort of my couch.
I swear it’s such a great feeling
coming home to find my package waiting.
NaPoWriMo Day 16
Poetry form: List
Fox Friend Dec 2017
"you treat me better than I deserve"
- the sleepy words
tumble
from your lips

except I believe that
everybody
deserves to be treated in such a way
that they think
it's more than they deserve.

that's where the givers like me become convenient.
Sarah Burg May 2016
i am a rag doll
i used to be with you through everything
you would hold my arm tight
my legs dragging on the ground
but even though the bottoms of my feet were scraped
i was still happy because at least
you wanted me to be with you
now i sit on the top shelf of your closet
behind old childhood blankets
collecting dust
waiting for you to need me again
i am torn and trampled and used and betrayed
you don't want me anymore
i try to reach out to you but i am suffocated
and paralyzed behind these soft walls
i am a rag doll because i am flimsy and let people walk all over me
Breanna Stockham Dec 2015
It seems that I'm
The revolving door
Standing between you
And your favorite store

It's not me you came to see
And yet here I am
Spinning 'round and 'round all day
Each time, at your every command

But you never stay
You're just passing through
You look right through me
At the treasure, loved by you

But I'm a person
I am not a door
Here for your convenience
While you find what you look for

Spinning and spinning
Has led me nowhere
I'm done being your door
I'll be treasure elsewhere
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