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Love the sloth in my mind
Busy sloth-ing away it’s time
The cheetah, somewhere around
Slogging away all the while
The two at loggerheads
Tearing up my heart
The Mind, a multitasker
The Heart put to tasks
Time to summon the tortoise
I surmise
LiteratusZR Dec 2018
Craving for a lost soul,
Darkness all over my head
Happy when you're miserable,
Your jealousy I know where it'll lead.

Ecstatic feeling for your lust,
Your wrath that fed my heart.
Wrap my body with your pride that last,
For my demons on your head that chant.
MicMag Nov 2018
That's it, I'm done, not once more
I'll never put things off again

I push work back at every chance
My secret slothful sin

Well now I'm through procrastinating
It's time to change my ways

But I don't have the time right now
Swear I'll quit one of these days!
PAD Poem-A-Day Challenge November 2018

Prompt:
"Tired of _____"
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2018-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-3
Pyrrha Aug 2018
He spoke to me of Heaven and Sin
But he knew I didn't believe in Heaven
So he left me with Sin and prayed for my soul to believe again
Instead I wallowed in those seven demons engraved within
Not Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, or Pride
My demons go by different names
Lonely, Anxiety, Fear, Judgment, Hate, You, and I
For within myself my own sins lie
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Readin’ writin’ and sech lack that stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ at the factory line ever day either.
And it sher ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Grammer and other sech borin’ stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ on a factory line ever day either.
Ah sherr don’t need it to work digging
Er runnin’ sewer lahns er plummin’ pipes neither.
So, folks can jess give up on tryin’
To turn me into some kinda egghead scholar.
After all, it was good enough for my dad
To go to work, and work hard to earn a dollar.
harini Jul 2018
“not all that glitters is gold”
they say
he smiles
gold or not, he wanted to have it
needed to have it

his mind splits in two
limbs too heavy to move
thoughts rushing and falling
but they don’t
translate

he determines his worth by his work
the best
being on top means
there’s so far
to fall

his body begging him to stop
he can’t
he lost control long ago
the bottle draws him in
with the bitter taste of oblivion

the red haze of anger
residing in his blood
if you play with fire
they say
you will get burned

always second best
never wanted never chosen
over the ones who could do better
the air is acrid
his face twisted

bodies tangled
skin against skin
neon lights
dopamine and oxytocin and
want
lucy Jul 2018
It’s not through any fault of yours
That I cannot share with you my pain
Or force myself to my knees in prayer.
The cross I bear is all my own -
I bite down on my crown of thorns.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

In the pulpit the priest tells of freedom
With faith that perfection awaits.
Yet, I confess, church bricks crumble around me.
Smothering those who hope for something more.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

I cry out at the altar,
But only echoes return,
Misplaced anger is given new purpose, Punishment is due.
Your mercies are new every morning,
But I’m stuck in perpetual nightfall.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

Altar wine stains my lips red,
Stale bread sticks at the back of my throat.
Its appeal has been lost, but still I swallow.
And the pit in my stomach is not yet filled.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

Dust settles in my corners
And I’ve fallen into disrepair.
Morning bells have long since stopped ringing,
You turned a blind eye and I closed both of mine.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

I collect shards of steel,
But in candlelight the blades glitter golden.
Flames lick the razor edge
Forging currency to buy my escape.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

My lover calls me from the dark,
Beckoning me to his bed of earth.
I flirt with death ‘til I’m wrapped in his arms
But my outstretched fingers are reaching for you.
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.
In which each stanza represents one of the sins
Kwamé Jul 2018
Prisoner without a cage
Soul forever trapped
Confined to a lifeless shell
Devoid of emotion
Slowly I waste away

Endless nights dreaming of escape
For this is not the life I chose
I don't believe in that higher power
For who would trap me here
Like a caged bird
Doing tricks for crackers

I'd rather be exploring Astral Plains
And wander lusting for knowledge
Than stay here another moment
Around people sippin the Devils potion

For this brew is awfully potent
One sip fills you with wrath and rage
As you begin to rattle my cage
All their minds filled with green

As they do anything to fulfill their greed
And begin to gorge themselves
Like glutinous giants grilling in Grenada
Never getting their fill

Lusting after thick thighs
And supple *******, doing
Anything for that 2 piece meal

Envious eyes eying everything in sight
Boasting that selfish pride, as your
Inner voice says that can't be me
He's talking about
You yes YOU

As you sit smug with your
Body shaped like a circle
Due to years of sloth like behavior

Don't worry about me I know
I'm different, I don't belong here
I know that
We are nothing more
Than temporary beings
Gone in an instant

Seeking the meaning of
Our existence
What is my purpose?

I guess I'll never
Know why I'm on this craft.
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
I come home again and there you sit
On the couch under the tvs grip

You never move, complain when I leave
I have asked you to come and join me

No you say, you're to tired for that
You rather go take your daily nap

So you escape to the room with bed
There you are laid now resting your head

Off you go having those horrid dreams
Keep this up, it'll be reality
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