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Gabriella Jan 2019
I dumped my laundry
On the ground
Hoping it would allow me
To feel motivated

Motivated to move
To clean to work
But all it did
Was sit on my floor

I sat with it too
Staring at the pile.
Looking for the answers
Written in my shirts
Mackenzie Dec 2018
All of the colors in the world but
His eyes shook my core
I fell in love with the color brown
When I gazed into them
I begin to drown

I made a house in those eyes
From the ground up
I started to build
Oh I loved you
I'd put him in my will

Home
Wood floors
Memories of footsteps
Love was knocking at my door

For my garden
Only soil as close to the color of those
Dark brown eyes
I planted a life in his soul
Our walls made of solid gold

Dark brown eyes
I could feel him watch me
My favorite color, just like coffee
A cup of you each morning
His touch left my skin scorning

My boy with dark brown eyes
Why would you destroy
The greatest home of your life
M.d
Lady Bird Jul 2016
I finally got the chance
To change the tone
It was just right
A brand new one too 

...Days past...
...No calls...
...No text...

I sat in my quiet room
In front of my desk
With no sound  around
A good time to think
A good time to write
Yep all alone
In my own world

Always before I begin
I take in a deep breath
Just to get things flowing

...WOW !!! ...

At that very moment
I heard it
Loud as day
It Echoed
Through the room
With good acoustics
Because of all the
wood floors

flipping out my chair
I flew just sliding
Across the room
I hit the floor hard
I was punched off guard
Choaking on my enhale
Laughing with my exhale

Yep! no scratches
No bumps or bruises
Up off the floor I jumped
Just fine I am

Oh yeah
That's right
I just remembered
What tone it was
I set
My own high pitched voice

"Someone's Texting You"

LOL...LOL... LOL...

This has really happened
Yet it is all so very true
I'm still laughing on the inside
And yes if you were there
You'd be laughing too...
Cat Fiske May 2016
I wake in a rusted copper red stained bed,
and focus my gaze though the window ahead,
to see the sun rise in a  crimson, flame, flush, shade of glow,
the view reflected in my eyes seem burnt, but cold and slow,
I see rose red flowers in the meadow,
and the shine of a rainbow,
the sea of dark pastels in a strawberry sky,
the cardinals fly,
and as I change my sight to the inside,
the fluttering spotted ladybug try to hide,
I get up and walk across the maroon hard wood floor,
until my feet finally reach the bathroom door,
and I reach a sad sight inside the white room,
the seen is diluted and blank to the view,
I raise my body in fists of hateful recklessness,
and crash my ****** fists into the mirror in elegance,
and helplessly the glass reflections fall to the floor,
and cuts me until my blood flows to the door,
the spotted ladybug hiding on the ground,
couldn't escape the fateful death as it drowned,
and I collapsed next to the bug,
and soaked my skin into the ****** rug.
and I waked to find a sea of vermilion,
acting like a chameleon,
as it laid in pools across my pale bare floors,
as something to large like a corps to ignore.
Vermilion red in my eyes,
Vermilion red stuck in my mind,
Vermilion red lives until I leave for the sky.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Shadows in my hall
They dance amongst my walls
They pirouette through my door
I feel thier dance steps on my floor

The shadow men love to play
They are here to stay
They scream they will never go away

Shadows in my hall
They leave scratches on my wall
They burst through my door
I feel their stomping on my floor

The shadow men are turning mean
They are becoming quite obscene
They are causing an awful scene

Shadows in my hall
They are leaving  black marks on my wall
They scream right through my door
I feel their nails clicking on my floor

The shadow men now in my head
They are only there to spread dread
They are only there to be fed
Till at last I'm dead
I walk across the landing
and through the double doors
and aim towards the lift shaft,
that's where I'm going, of course.

It's as if it hears my footsteps
and needs no company
as that old elevator
shoots down to level 3.

Every single morning
as I approach its doors
it disappears pretty quick
down to those lower floors.

I swear it sees me coming
and doesn't like the look
so as I rush to hitch a ride
the **** thing slings its hook.

The doors are on a system,
computerised I read.
But whenever I get near them
they change the ****** speed.

I stand alone here waiting
and it just isn't fair
'cause I am stuck up here
when I want to be down there.

It speeds down to the bottom
and sits on the ground floor
you can here it taunting you
with the movements of the door.

Then after what seems ages
it gradually starts to rise
giving me some hope at last
as I can hear the noise.

Then it makes a pit stop
at another floor
and seems to take forever
to open and close its door.

Each and every level
seems to get a viewing
as if it wants to **** some time,
with my mind it is *******.

And then it reaches the sixth floor
as if it is my saviour
and finally opens up the doors
as if it's doing a favour.

It seems as if this machine
requires me to stalk
so now I've found the stairwell
and instead I'm going to walk.
9th July 2015
© Copyright Christopher K Bayliss 2014
This is a True Story of one elevators aim to cause me STRIFE!
Unknown Aug 2014
Memories crumble to dust
Bricks of remembrance
Thrown angrily from the windows of my eyes
Shattering the glass seven floors up

At the bottom
The feet of those on the first floor
Had to walk on shards of regret
A treacherous, ****** movement
And in the end got no where
But back to the stained carpets
Screaming inside the walls
Of a house
Not a home

The second floor
Tenants fell to their knees
Begging for the first floor
To relax
The commotion was just
Too much too handle
Rattling the weakened, buckled walls

The third floor
They were frightened from the up rise of chaos
Got sick to the stomach
And doubled over in pained retrospect
Because they left their windows open
And swallowed air
Instead of pride

The fourth floor
Was broken beyond repair
Cracked right down the middle
Blood seeped from it's fissured walls
Like an arrow wound to the heart
Those inside sprawled in puddles of conflict

The fifth floor
Was out of bandages
For the fourth floor
They used them for mouth covers
So the sixth floor above couldn't smell
The lies on their breath

The sixth floor
Always did hold a nose in the air
But that couldn't hide them from trouble
They were stuffy, and often full
As though the tears that often ran down the bridges
Were more than the emotional pressures
They could carry at once

The seventh floor
Was tired of everything
Constantly red and with teary eyes
They stared down upon the whole scene
Disgusted with the image presented
So they threw the newest memories out
And watched them crumble to dust
Seven floors down
Puff Jul 2014
Pealing off my skin
Hiding it for a cooler day
Laying on  the hot floor
I'm going to die from the heat.

— The End —