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It's sticky and fogs your mind
This green friend of mine
Inhale to feel just fine
As slowly it steals your time.

It comes in the form of a leaf
With it there is no grief
It leaves behind some keef
But it is the time thief.

Many days can go by
****** or completely high
Without blinking an eye
Time begins to fly by.

It makes you do less
You begin to forget success
All you want to do is rest
And smoke it to your chest.

When its time to quit
You realise you're unfit
And couldn't give a s**t
You'd rather smoke and sit.

You might become addicted
Your brain power is restricted
Completely self inflicted
Your motivation misdirected.
I left this poem without a resolution to make a point.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg,

which came first,
the Chicken or the Egg,
which came first,
the bliss or this pain,

whatever never mind,
who cares anyways,
because the real question is,
who cares anyways,

who cares anyways?

These days most are too inattentive to pay attention,
too unobservant to deserve my service so they’re only purpose is to be subservient,
too distracted by everything expect the instance that they’re in,
don’t even have the strength to concentrate for the length of an entire sentence,

can’t focus on this moment,
when in fact that’s all we ever have,
so really if we don’t hold the moment we hold nothing,
guess is why I only wrote this poem to remind us of that,

as I lay here in this bed,
with so many thought crowding my head,
that I have no room inside my head for Z’s,
can’t sleep I’m wide awake again,

can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg…

∆ LaLux ∆
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Don’t know how it started,
or if it’ll ever end,
some call it Samsara,
others call it trends,

watched a video on YouTube,
Mac Miller in bed with Ariana Grande,
Mac died last week from an OD/suicide,
after Ariana got engaged to another man,

then I Googled this,
“**** photos of Ariana Grande”,
what’s the matter with me why does everything lead,
to having my thing in my hand,

swear to God YouTube is the Devil,
got me to watch screens,
used to have more freedom,
because I didn’t own a TV,

but laptops just made it all too easy,
now I barely go out,
and when I do it’s usually just for food,
then it’s back to my bed or my couch,

laid up like I’m ill,
typing on my MacBook like an addict,
I mean how do you think I wrote this poem,
I wrote it by typing on my MacBook like an addict,

and I don’t know how it started,
or if it’ll ever end,
some call it Samsara,
others call it trends…

∆ LaLux ∆
Andy Felix Sep 2018
I sing from the soul no matter how it sounds
Fumbling over words like spontaneous poetry scribbled down
I like acting on impulse, especially on lazy days without plans
I dont have to leave the comfort of my own bed, but I'd probably leave it unmade.. Go lay on the beach and get covered in sand
Stare at the waves anticipating the the good things to come
Like coffee on on short overcast rainy days, or long summer nights out having fun
Anya Sep 2018
I held back the waterfall
threatening to pour
Honestly,
Is it passive resignation?
I don't believe so
It feels more like...
waiting
Taking joy in the little things
But clutching onto a hope
that the world
my world
my story
will just evolve into just about every book
I've read
A happy story
I mean-it is
But, it's imperfect
Filled with incessant
USELESS
pity parties
I'm not friendless
I'm not heart broken
I have my family
I have talent
I have resources
I live in a great community
I have a great education
Endless opportunities
At my disposal
If I just reach
But-
It's impossible to feel perfect
And impossible to shrug off the laziness
The complacency
The flaws
It's important to be greatful
And I am
If I had the opportunity to trade
I definitely wouldn't
But-
It is true that sometimes
I'm smacked in the face
with the imperfections
the flaws
of my world
that I strive towards
I must keep striving towards
...
Okay.

I feel better now.
oh, that lonely, lucid loungefly,
where is it her line does lie?
wastes away, does or dies,
spends her time awry.
my lazy, angry soul
Kassandra Aug 2018
My tiredness consumes me.
Im tired of life, of waking up and only finding disappointment.
Im not tired cause ima another lazy teen,
Im not tired because i was on my phone,
Im tired because my body is weak and broken from all the beatings its taken to this point.
My tiredness consumes me.
To my family who thinks im just tired cause im another lazy teen rebelling.
Sky Aug 2018
as the bus pulls along the lazy river on Main,
a slouching mind and pressed cheek is a swimmer,
dipping toes

and meanwhile
the gentle murmur of pool-goers living inaudibly,
like hunched bunches
in shawls of shade

(interrupted only
by the occasional l-urch)

nodding, nodding
off and on and off and
into the water,
the swimmer slips in
...

Here, it is heaven on earth

an oasis
...

and the mind swims ever so far
ever so deep
...

i wonder...
...

and outside
a boy, barefoot
runs upstream

a shimmering second
an apparition of summer?
and out of sight
please help revise and improve! <3
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2018
Feel the lull of sleep
On a roll that will rise up
In the oven's womb
I'm lazy as hell, I swear lol
But I'm glad I remembered the basics!
Lyn ***
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