Xaha 1d
Doom myself to mediocrity,
Doom myself for good.
Raise myself to excellence,
Sacrifice my good.
Try to make a difference,
Gladly - if I could.
Is all that’s left to settle?
I won’t accept it though I should.
Speak of love
I'll be there
A bunch of daffodils
In my hand
We walk the hills
I work the tills
To put money in their hands
And mine
My bones break
Under the strain
Of words, fake,
Drowning in rain.

These bones are made of chalk,
Often times too hard to walk.
Despite these times of rage,
Still, I can turn the page
And look into the eyes
Of my own true demise.

These bones, chained
Under the weight
Are left maimed.
No choice, but wait.

These sticks of pale wood break,
Just as the soul can ache.
Under the cracking bones,
Left beneath hollow stones,
Is my own fragile mind.
Feelings I’ve yet to find…
I realized recently

That my biggest fear


Living a boring life.

Not necessarily a life full of regret,

But a life in which I never built my own door of opportunity,

Picked the lock

And stepped inside.

A life in which I never took the risks I knew I had to,

If I wanted even the chance

Of becoming a singer,



Not that I mind the regular route,

But that one is already barely guaranteed in the first place.

I don’t even know what job I’d enjoy.

How can I continue like this?

Not knowing if I’ll be okay at the job I’m studying for.

Living comfortably is a luxury these days.

What if I’m not cut out for commission work?

I’m terrified.

It could all be a waste.

I just want to coast if I can’t be happy.

But what if coasting isn’t an option?

What if just managing isn’t an option?

What if I can’t do it?

The whole point is to find a better job, one where I rarely cry because I’m trying my best and it just isn’t good enough.

I hate this misconception, that Millennials are lazy.

I’ve worked my ass off, and I will continue to because that is required to survive.

I’ve worked harder at my minimum wage job than many at their 60k a year plus benefits.

I’m just worried that I’m making the wrong choices,

Because there is information I just cannot know as of yet.

And I could have set myself up for the best, right now.

But I don’t know what that is.
Got fired from my call centre job for failing the exam. Took it while doing the night shift. First I've ever done graveyard. Can't say I like it. In fact, I bloody hate night work. Unless it's in a goth club, drinking beer or grinding.

Gonna get a new job. Jimmy Boom Semtex needs beer and tattoo cash. Give him a job and let him learn. Short term memory aside, he'll do his best. Make you laugh and roll your eyes. Jimmy Boom Semtex is here!

Gotta wait 3 months for my wages. That's ok. I'll buy 120 bottles of beer at Xmas and drink myself unconscious while reciting mad poetry. Red Horse or Colt 45? More beer is needed. Paid for by Jimmy's next job. Night shift? You bet!
Iska Feb 4
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With bloody feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my bloody soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and bloody,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?
I know I need to make some money.
You say it's a joke but it's not all that funny

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.
If only you knew the pain I go through
Day after day, it would steal your breath away.

Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

Oh how I hate the green blood.
That oozes from the paycheck above.
I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Life is a mix of every thing !
Your job is to
Keep it a mix
stable all the time.
It’s just a job, I think to myself as I hear them sob.
For a man whose memory they carry; the one I’m about to bury.
I wait patiently and think about my evening; while they progress through their grieving.
The time finally arrives for them to leave and my goal I can achieve.

The monotonous sound of my shovel sending dirt in the grave
drowns out any feeling or emotional wave.
I almost wished I cared about this life
And yet my thoughts are on my own strife.

Still a piece of me wished I knew this man.
All that he achieved in his lifespan.
So I could send his soul on its way
Not just bury a body that will soon decay

What does it matter if I care or not.
When everyone else has given it great thought?

Pixar could nada pay enough
   for this trainer of apple chomping antz
so I wonder if any chance
   hello Morris the tender vittles

commercial kitty cat whisker of employment
thru contrived virtual toy story
   qua ratatouille poetic brew
could materialize into a likely chance

such outcome would generate me
   to shrek out with excitement and dance
just in case a glimmer of some prospect exists
   for this self anointed bard,

   who dislikes formality
   of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania,
   now presents technical skills,
   I wooly cotton to enhance

this chap offers poetic expression
   common in differ france
     so take a glance
to help this intuitive homo sapiens
   sharp pen mental acuity like lance

which byte size bit torrent humor
   might cause ye to soil pants
after misinterpreting mishmash
   as raven shrieking twittering rants

even part time income would buoy positive stance
subtle intent to place me as worth hiring,
   with mop pa trick sway zee
   au currant electronic charge hypnotic trance
in consideration to ad-vance.

I betcha never read a pseudo cover letter reply
   like this iambic pentameter electronic wire
from a boyish looking blood muggle father up in years
   (whose nonpareil courage

   to face Voldemort never does tire)
deux darling northern belles,
   would consider him a worthy hire
less to rake in gobs of money,

   but to satiate unquenchable hunger and thirst
   for further bits of computer
   know how to acquire
in tandem aim to present the write stuff.

This faux pas whey to ripple eye conveys an itty bitty
     raw bit size actual work experience
(from this chap, who lives (Kenye bull heave
   ~ 40 miles north
   west of the Philadelphia city) via dashing car
nonetheless, i hanker (NOT to be confused with HACKER

though offset by merely one different third letter)
   prompts the following ditty
per computer trouble (making)
   and shooting abilities

   some may ascribe as nitty gritty
on par with the secret life of Walter Mitty
whom destiny protected and took pity
meant to be silly, yet also attempt to be witty.

No matter how many miles by car
(your company might be
   within dead man walking distance)
   this opportunity would not be considered to far
hoops responding in rhyme
   being considered nada mar

gin hilly atypical to use ecumenical interest
   and technologically spar
using graphical user interface programs
   to get unstuck from virtual feathery tar.

Iambic pentameter might not constitute
   traditional genre for a debtor
no reason why my non-establishmentarianism
     cannot serve as me own mode to communicate pursuit
     as computer repair technician go getter,
which honest to goodness confession
   hopefully affects responsiveness a bit better.

This pure breed mud half blood muggle prince
bona fide seeker for challenging income
   does reckon poetic way
not necessarily follows formalities
   to reply most would readily say

why adhere to conformity,
   whereby paradigm frowns on creative hoo ray
which atypical modus operandi
   viz positive reply and job i pray
even if interest turns out to be nay
mien hometown nada abbott may
cost 'hello far west where Philadelphia lay.

The resume (quite slim as jail grub gruel –
an extended hiatus taken
   for medical reasons) shows dearth,
yet versed inducing byte size mirth
of requisite technical expertise,
   i do possess attributes well worth.

If you might allow me to boast
and blithely use rhyme without reason to coast
given cents and sense ability opportunity to eradicate
Re: exorcise any binary elusive ghost
and offer bytes of helpful information from pc host
with brio and confidence, i respond to your post.

Without further ado, i will slightly brag
to tell of ability to conduct understand dos
manage common system utilities (non passe)
   such as scan disk and defrag

installed, resolved dsl issues, performed
scan-disk and troubleshooting glitches
   such as removal of dos files, installation
and/or removal of hardware

   likewise uninstalling software,
   running registry sweeps
   in an attempt to remove bugs and errors
   mice, or roaches, that cause machine
   to cough and gag

invariably impede processes
   as downloading, sending, uploading, et cetera to lag
and if chance smiles on further consideration
like a happy pup his tail will wag.

Oh...and by the way i would accept a starting
negotiable/competitive salary as starting wage
to support this self proclaimed sage
whose role can double up
   as court jester, joker, or page

hopeful this poetic synopsis
   offers favorable gauge
in tandem enriching fount of know
   ledge valuable at any advancing age.

Y'all might think this reply balderdash and rot
which may matter Bo diddly squat
no matter i herald from royalty
   with salient strengths being prestigious Scott
butta masta Harris

Does not smoke booze nor drink from a chamber pot
a student of the establishment he is not
yet ad foxy, hocks moxie by proxy, this poet doth got
might elicit salient characteristics similar to humanoid bot
and, oh by the way, I lived
   in montgomery county, penna for some years quite a lot.
Seema Jan 10
The tray was empty
The cups half empty
He made his entry
All eyes on him
I stood there staring
The guy walked in
Our eyes met
But I quickly looked away
How can he be here
My boss, now I fear
He sat right infront of me
I stood still, his gaze fixed on me
Without hesitation I asked
"What would you like to have, "Sir"?
The moment I spoke, I knew what he thought
I left their table, full of other guests
And began to serve the rest
I could feel his gaze staring on my moves
I just hoped am not barred off my jobs
This was my part-time job
As I worked full time secretary for this mob
Yes, a business meet at this restaurant
I had no option, but to have two jobs
Life alone support was too much of a sob...

The clock ticked 12am
I quickly changed to leave
But, surprised was I
He was still gazing at me, why?
I ignored him and moved out to catch a cab
He followed, with stern voice he called me
"Wait!, I will drop you" was all he said
I know by the look he was somewhat mad
He drove slow and stopped half way
I didn't know what to say
Then he started, asking why I had to work there
When I had a polished job with him near
I told him, the reasons
He said, I didn't have to work here
He said he didn't like people holding my hand
He said that made him mad
I was beginning to feel sad
He assured to increase my pay
But warned only to work during the day
I thanked him, but he looked upset
He dropped me off and waited
Until I got in through the door
It was almost 2am now....

A bright day, I let my hair sway
In the office, the next day
Loaded with work, I began to lay
The files in order for my boss to say
Still in fear, brushing off the tear
I heard him bang the phone from the rear
He's still mad, of last night scenes
The entire day he was so mean
After work, he asked me to stay back
To tidy up the file rack
But I knew there was something he wanted to say
There was no doubt he was absolute dashing
One would dream to have him
He stopped my work, held my hand
And started his talk which seemed not to end
I was much too surprised when he proposed
That left me in state of a joke
But he said again, he wanted me to be with him
All time, by his side, ever since his wife died
I was first he never lied
Thus, my new life started...
he was my life,
he was my guide...
he was my love, with whom I now reside

-The End-

...they lived happily, there after...

Story poem. Totally fictional. Spilling imaginations.
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