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MisfitOfSociety Feb 2019
Been stepping on the roaches again.
Couldn’t see them on the black tiles.
Next time I should remember to put the light on.
Because now I got bug matter all over my shoes.

It is hard to notice the little people,
When you are big and wondering around in the dark.
Please take notice of where you step,
Because you might be stepping on someone else.

Oh please look down,
I may be small,
But that doesn't mean I don’t exist at all!
Can you hear my little bug voice from way up there?!
You are about to silence it forever!

The next time you take a step,
Consider what it may do to another,
Because you may end up with a squished roach on the tiles.
Jack Shannon Feb 2019
A crack in the wall
Or under your bed
Live a people so small
They're thinner than thread
Shorter than mice
Shorter than dice
Shorter than lice
Shorter than rice
But away they build
And cities they make
Tiny but skilled
Like the things they create
So hear the bed springs
It's their world you're squashing
And know there are things
Still doing their washing
I used to imagine there were tiny people living in my room when I was a kid. Call it imaginative or delusional, I still wrote a poem about it.
Alp Feb 2019
Yes
I'll write gibberish
and you just can't
throw    this poem      away
But it doesn't bother you, indeed
you Liked this one.
you liked it because
you don't look for meaning
but GIBBERISH.
Some gibberish to waste your time
           Relief and Relax
your time is already gibberished
and what I mean by "gibberished"
is just a simple gibberish.
But who the hell cares.
Hope you like this one. Since this is my third one published, I would like to hear from you. Waiting your comments.
Em MacKenzie Feb 2019
Every waking hour, I’m battling insecurities
they turn my mood sour, and I’m begging anyone to “stomp them please.”
Boiling and ice, so hot then cold,
a mistake now made twice,
I should remember the lessons I’m told.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
Part of me just wants to laugh
‘cause I’m not sure what else to do.

It’s the little things that compile,
and create the big things,
still work to find a smile
and return back to the swings.
Boiling and ice, scalding to freeze,
a mistake now made thrice,
the right answer’s just a tease.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
To calm myself I run a candlelit bath,
but the tap is just pouring glue.

We all keep walking with broken legs
and keep carrying on bleeding wounds
Even the proudest person still begs
for life to grow from ruins.
I want to solve the mystery,
travel through time and space,
‘cause this reality is misery,
when I’m not in my rightful place.

Please stop feeding me that riffraf
all the way up the *****.
The ups and downs shown on a graph,
and the statistics are painfully true.
Start by telling me everything,
as I’ve got my own show and tell,
I’ll expose myself to your sting
as long as you promise to make my heart swell.
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