I rewrote a song called, "Denim and Lace,'
Hope this brings a laugh to your face,
"Pyjamas and Fleece,
I look fat in everything,
And you are a fat old king,
Making me do everything,
Wearing P.J.'s and fleece!"
No hot speed dates to me,
I remove my bra at half past three,
No need to be a sook,
I'll curl up here and write a book,
"Wearing P.J.'s and fleece!'
I appreciate the time we spent together.
You know I used to come to you in any weather.
But you denied me my friend.
This is how I know this relationship will not happen again.
Now I will make sure that odium becomes reality;
Because of you and your fake personality
With these thoughts I aim at you with such veracity.
If only you could feel what I feel just to understand me.
Some would say I have chosen the wrong path,
I guess I will pull out the claws and never retract.
Thanks to you I am more idiosyncratic;
I have no more friends to make this situation less chaotic.
I am certain that all the little things I do add up to nothing to you.
That is why I am saving the best for last, because that is what I am due.
I have been put on the path of least resistance;
Because the most dangerous things in my life will always stay persistent.
Now to make a stand for myself in any light.
The carnivores have me and with a jagged tooth they will bite.
This is my pure unadulterated return.
For years and years my hatred flame has burned.
Never do I want my friends to be enemies.
It is better for me to count sheeps with a Golden Fleece just ahead of me.
Now that is said and done to you.
I hope you do stick in my head like glue.
All of us pay the price for a chosen few.
I hope to never see again.
I hope this remains until the very end.
My fear is like a worn blanket;
it keeps me bundled safe from cold,
Protects me from intruding talons
that reach to break frail bones.
Its edges are torn and tattered;
Hairy strings scratch at my throat.
I sometimes hold it all too tightly
and it wraps around my soul.
It sees that scary people scare me,
and knows that everyone is scary.
But this blanket isn’t just a haven,
the people claim it “unhealthy”.
They tear at fraying threads and seams
and I screech for them to stop.
It’s so comfortable and warm in here,
and it very rarely gets too hot.
I’ve grown accustomed to its feeling,
but the mad people do not care.
They tell me “Be more social.
The world shouldn’t scare you dear.”
But this itchy blanket shields my body
when people venture far too close.
When they try to shove ideals and dreams,
down an already suffocating throat.
Why can’t the scary people see
That this blanket is home, is mine?
They cause the frightful disrupt.
They make the blanket make me blind.
new work! please feel free to leave advice on editing!
Despite proposals along the way,
I never married again,
One was a transvestite, gay,
He did have better lingerie,
I turned him away,
I never saw him again,
I wear menswear, you see,
I would have been Bridezilla in fleece,
I guess that would have been a release,
Married in fleece, beyond belief...........
the bark where we carved our lilac promises fade,
the touch of your black night hair that day stings my mind.
count the stars.
stars in heaven,
stars on your tongue.
the bark where we carved out lilac promises may fade,
but your starry tongue and midnight hair.
it will remain.
CW warmup: wrote a poem using the words bark, hair, fleece, and sting :3 you guys try it and tag me in your poems :)
In fields you walk with cloven wanderlust
With blankets carried on your back as fleece
Protecting fellow sheep-fold innocence
From devious behavior in the flock
Smiling as you bleat and stride as golden
Reflecting rays like sunlit drops of milk
A lamb of God your knowledge is your milk
Your curiosity breathes wanderlust
A message from the ancient one baas golden
Engraved upon your heart and curls of fleece
Observe the blessed range within your flock
Stray not for you may lose your innocence
A fog in hills may blind your innocence
Beware the wolf will take more than your milk
And with each day you bond among your flock
Behold the beauty of group wanderlust
We thank you for your warm and cherished fleece
That soothes us as earth's twilight breaks golden
Glory to the impossible golden
For myths of your spiritual innocence
Merely trumpets what liberates your fleece
The holy grail is your chalice of milk
Discovered in a cave of wanderlust
Restful within the shadow of your flock
What joy is raised in stables of your flock
An offering of ritual golden
Pasture of thirsty hearts in wanderlust
You teach us to hold fast to innocence
How precious is the richness of your milk
Our comfort is to rest our heads on fleece
A new dawn to behold an age of fleece
A new dusk to protect an ancient flock
A new day to preserve the gift of milk
A new memory to hold futures golden
A never ending age of innocence
A satiated age of wanderlust
Fruitful wanderlust of black sage fleece
Shepherds innocence to a white cloaked flock
Prepare ye golden moments with thine milk
© tHE tERRY tREE
Poetic Form | Sestina
A sestina is a form of poetry that uses a method of repeating words at the end of each line. It has 6 stanzas of 6 lines each, with an envoy (or tercet) of three lines to conclude the poem.
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