Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oil pumps dot the fields for miles,
Like giant metal bison.
Rust for fur,
And shoulders of rotating turbines.
Sarafæl Sep 2020
September 27th
You died today
Your life just slipped away
Maybe souls exist and I’ll see you again
Pretty lies we tell ourselves but it’s all pretend
My tethers to this world are growing thin
I often wonder why the say suicides a sin
The world with out you has grown a little grim
I know I need time to grieve
But it’s hard when there’s no time to breath
Meca Sep 2020
Time for bed,
Rest your head,
I'll  protect you dear,
from the nightmares you bare,

Close your eyes,
Count to three,
You'll be safe with me,
I promise you my dear,
A sweet lullaby for a furry buddy or to your precious little flowers ♥️
.
Feeling that my parenting days will be over as they start to get older
neth jones Nov 2019
fur
clothe      each     self     a      dupe

unclear  what we would  portray

cling      to      our      cur      beasts

zoo             of             personalities

and never the funds to feed them
Julie Grenness Aug 2019
Here am I, a fur detective,
What is a pet's perspective?
Fur friends make us happy, you see,
Have to return their love, ask me,
What would your pet say to thee?
Thanks for the cuddles, good company,
Thanks for meal and comfy bed,
Thanks for the snacks, enough said,
Message from this fur detective,
Turn your eyes to the pet's perspective!
Feedback welcome.
Growly Wolfus Aug 2019
I was born into this, something I never wanted.  And all of my life, I've been running, hunted.  We're being tracked down and slaughtered, chased, by people with fire as their ally, their weapons made of silver or simply wooden stakes.  You've run us into a corner and murdered all of my kind out of fear, not a shred of their existence left behind, proclaiming it was for everyone's sake.  I am the sole survivor, the last of my race.  I have vowed not to fall victim to the same fate.

You've claimed me to be a monster, but what does that mean?  The only monster I see is you.  Murdering and spreading rumors of my kind, you don't understand what I've been through.  Saying I've slain many, but you've killed more than a few.  Stop speaking of such things; it's hurting me.  Stop lying to yourself.  Why can't you see? Are you ignoring it purposely?  Look at me, into my soul, and realize the devastation caused by your pursuit.  Why can't you understand?  Monsters have feelings too.

Though, it is too late to go back to peace.  The people can only see something unreal, a fake part of me.  And now, I will never be free.  I'm forever running from your conceit.  I have done nothing to bring you to this.  I've cut off my horns, my fangs, and my claws to try and be a part of your bliss.  I burnt my fur and scorched my skin, but all I've done has been dismissed.  I have to hide in caverns deep.  In the cold and damp, I sleep, afraid to be found in my cavern keep.

I could never fight you, that would only make things worse than before.  My skin is covered in my crimson blood and I'm in pain from the scars.  In anguish, I roar.  My gargantuan, curled ebony horns lay broken and cast aside; my thick, midnight blue fur reduced to patches and strewn across my stone lair; my calloused pads raw from running; my weary eyes tortured and worn.  I've given up on living any longer.  It's better to die and to be conquered than to be caged and grow weak from hunger; so I step out of the cave, crawling out on all four; and I lie down, exhausted, on the forest floor.
This is my first rhyming storyline.  It stemmed from a thought I had.  "Who are the real monsters in our world?"   let me know if you like it.  I don't know if I should finish it.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3290949/a-monsters-feelings-part-two/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3302905/a-monsters-feelings-part-three/
Arisa Mar 2019
Cat
I am the slither of fur in the night,
Glint of moonlight which captures the sleek
silver
of a cat's back
And the ghostly glow
of a cat's eyes.
I once saw a beautiful black cat while walking home one night.
nja Jan 2019
It started off with some blues,
coz every panting night’s gotta start somewhere.
She took him by the hand and dragged his lanky limbs past the pub,
in the back alleys she read him poisonous poetry until they were both drooling.
She wrapped him up tightly in her furs,
he stopped breathing.
He was hers.
Next page