Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
“still on the fence
about you being
a mortal man
or a God.”

well thanks for that,
and did I mention
it’s a fence style called
picket you put me on?

which I can attest,
makes me feel both
majestic & definitely humanistic,
cause a picket up one’s ****,
is proof still that this man,
unlike god,
has not lost his “touch”
so to speak...
Katie Feb 14
They always say the grass is greener
On the other side.
I think they’re too scared to admit
That their own lawn
Is dead.
Shriveled brown grass, broken glass on the other side of that
**** white picket fence,
Holes wide enough for lies to pass through.

And to those who think their grass is, in fact,
Greener -
You forgot about that patch where your
Innocent little dog
Peed.
(You might want to fix that.)

Even the rich folks up in their mansions on the hills
Don’t have perfect grass.
They usually spray-paint it that color.

Maybe they’re afraid that
If someone saw
Their wilted lawn, suffocated under fumes and expectations,
We’d shatter their fragile porcelain saying -
And their reputation
Of being greener.
Haruharu Jan 29
Two fences, seperating me from the outside world.
Barbed wire, sharp razorblades.

I have an hour to breathe fresh air.
To get a sense of reality, to feel alive.

Eyes closed, in my mind I'm almost free.
No locks. No guards. No uniforms.

A brief moment. Silence.

And there it is, the sound that has defined me for years.

Keys.
Cassie Jan 28
I see the white picket fences
Even you have one
I worry I’ll never get mine

The fence I have is around my heart
I want someone to cut it open
But I’m afraid no one wants to

I’m afraid that I can never be loved
That no one will want to call me theirs
Maybe I try to hard
But I’m just being me

My mom says I’ll find someone
“You’re so beautiful” they say
Then why don’t I see that

I hope you can break down my fence
Open the gate and walk right in
But please close it behind you
And hopefully never leave
Anika Nelson Dec 2018
Truth is like a fence of barb wire.
Behind it lays a peony pasture.
Full of life,
Grace,
Hope,
And sanity.
In front, there lies nothingness.
An internal grief that will continually grow
Allowing one to become so numb to the truth,
They end up forgetting what it was to even begin.
juliet Nov 2018
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
these are the rules
i don’t make them
somebody is always going to be better than me
should i look up or down?
to the glowing sun
or the deep blue sea?
this is the blood, sweat, tears
of thirteen years
of hate and love for myself
this is the breaking
this is the growing
this is the healing
this is the faking of my feelings
against who i am inside
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
in their ocean eyes i see the
future and in mine i see the past
in their hands i see pure bravery and
in mine i see brute strength and no control
and on their face i see and angel
on mine i see a spectre in
a twisted mask
that chips off
with every single one
of my tears
the grass is always greener
on the other side of the fence
from this side of paradise
all you see is my broken heart
and your hands quickly sew it back
as another stitch rips.
the grass is always greener
when you are on the other side
because no flowers would ever grow
if never washed with rain
the moon is always brighter
when the sun is there to shine
on its beautiful, silver face
that would be hidden by our
shadows till it melted into
space. this is the breaking
this is the growing
this is the healing
this is the alpha
this is the omega
this is the end.
Rebecca Nneka Oct 2018
While  we were drunk in love..

Never did I know he was sitting on the fence....
Why sit on the fence when you could love me completely..
Rebecca Nneka Oct 2018
Since I can't have you and can't be without you..
I'd get off this fence of my confusion..
I'd  close my eyes and kiss you in my fantasia all my life...

Rebecca Nneka
But how can I love you and not have you?
Ambika Jois Sep 2018
The rug
Lying underneath your feet;
Been on the ground
So long,
It's stuck to the ground.

The fence
Standing deep, anchored in soil;
**** rooting down
So deep,
It's part of the land.

The frames are clean,
The pictures seem
Like history.
Once upon a time,
I was
More than furniture to us.

But now:

I want you to see me,
Like the door you can open;
I'm more than what's inside your home.

I want you to want me,
Like you used to everyday;
I'm that girl you wanted to make time for when you're alone.

Now, are you not alone?
Is that why
I'm the rug, fence and your furniture?

I know I work from home.
I know I got a lotta things to do.
I know I haven't lived up to the best of expectations.

I'm still that girl you fell in love with.
I dream beyond every bandwidth.
I take my time to really be sure.
I wanna do it without complications.

But I know,
I bore the hell outta you.
With my
Nagging that could turn ears blue.
But I
Promise that I love you baby,
You gotta see me in the light of the truth:

I want you to see me,
Like the door you can open;
I'm more than what's inside your home.

I want you to want me,
Like you used to everyday;
I'm that girl you wanted to make time for when you're alone.

Now, are you not alone?
Is that why
I'm the rug, fence and your furniture?
There are times when we are so much a part of other people's lives - married couples, live-in couples, friends, family, housemates, you name it - that we turn into their everyday lives in such an unnoticeable way. This poem is about what tends to happen when you get too used to having someone around.
Rohan Press Aug 2018
the body turns
and trembles
and opens

you didn't tell
me that the green
was closing in

but the fence nailed
open
and turns
and trembles.
Next page