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gabersons Jul 2020
It's the same every day I'm a groundhog
Time to get to racing
but I'm shaking when I'm waking
Feeling sober but Its almost noon
can't remember what I've taken
What a cycle what fun
Until you're entire bodies aching
And you're wading through a pool of sweat
Quiet nodding in and out and hear the voices fading
You know exactly what they're saying smarten up and start praying
Alcoholics tell me I'm anonymous
And to act the way they say to me
Just another day another hour count the minutes til graces me


Not another dose another ** is gonna save me
Not some new clothes couple bros couldn't change me
Work yourself to death try make a lot of money
For shelter, warmth, for something in your tummy
Then for the real warmth seeping in your tummy It's a traditional leftover from
The latin liquor bunny
He's like the Easter kind, just got one thing on his mind
Except he comes every day
feed your body and mind  
It's all fine it's all fine
Except I basically got brined
Head and body now I'm dyin
Wouldn't change it for the world, couldn't change my mind
Yep
Poetic T Feb 2020
Your mouth like groundhog day,
           ever repeating the same melody
sang out of tune.
  
But I'm the Bill Murray learning
that every time has to be different
          or you just living

your weak dreams.

Your just a lame re-run cancelled after
          the second episode,
but you think you famous cos people
recognise you for the wrong reasons.

Laughing behind your back.

       Your girl has had more rubber in
her than burnt out tires on the street.

Telling you she was saving it for you,
   should've  been a used car salesman.
   lying about how many miles
                                   she'd already done.

Ok off subject,

  You were yesterday never today..
  Always thinking you a star,
          but you shooting across
my atmosphere.

And I'm burning you up.


Ye bright for a moment,
                 then you just nothing.
But ash that I flick off my shoulder.  


You dropped and nothing
is going to bring you back.

As you mouths living
         a groundhog day.

                                        Learning nothing,
but that I'm already on tomorrow,
why your mouth living the same *** day.
Poetic T Mar 2019
If I always relived the same day.

                                  The only thing
that I'd never get fed up of seeing
                                                 is you.
A reminder -

It is still winter,
We are still in the thick of it,
Chains and snowshoes
are still requisite,
Imbolc and Candlemas
are still to pass,
Groundhogs hibernate,
Tarns still as glass,
The tumbling finch song
has yet to be sung,
and even the false spring,
has not yet sprung.

So lie still a while longer,
Let the chill freeze you through,
Warmer days will return
in their own time,
And so will you.
Scarlet McCall Feb 2017
In deep winter’s chill a brief nudge
gets groundhogs, with barely a grudge,
to predict the season,
but I ask, with good reason,
if they differ, who will be the judge?
Something I always wondered.
A charming flank
in think tank went aground today
with an exam that writ a woodchuck
with alarm that studied a course
and back into a hole with a mole
yet in a fir tree there that squeaked
hello

to the fox.
LexiSully Apr 2016
Sleepily and lazily, he makes his way out of the hole that has sheltered him from the cold

As he looks both left and right, does he long to see his shadow, which will send him away into slumber for a little while longer, or does he prefer to lounge in the shade of the day?

To him, the decision will take only but a moment

To reporters, onlookers, and bystanders, only the moment can tell.
Trey Evans Apr 2015
The psychiatrist wakes up every morning.
Gets dressed and ready to tackle another day at work.
Puts on his best suit and tie.
Something different, so to not seem repetitive.
Matching shoes, cuff links, the works.
Has his morning breakfast accompanied with a cup of coffee.
Heads out to his occupation while listening to his favorite songs on the radio.
Singing along word for word all the way there.
Greets his receptionist at the front desk and makes his way to his room.
Takes off his coat and hangs it up as he gets ready for the day's appointments.

Fast forward.

When his day is over, his mind is dead.
His face emotionless.
His receptionist gone, he has no one to say goodbye to.
His radio is silent on the way home.
Not one tune played.
Not one word uttered.
He arrives to his empty home and tosses his jacket on the floor.
He sits on his living room couch.
And he cries.
And cries.
And cries.
Until there's nothing left for his eyes to let go of
He strips, and showers
With the disregard for clothing himself, he falls into bed.
And into a slumber.

Repeat.
written 3/30/15

— The End —