Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pour another
Gin and T!
Soak in the din.
Sins sung phase into crescendo,
laughs leave our chests and wallets open.
It's just alcohol for dinner, tonight.
What? No lime!

God, I thought I was grown up.
Anya Sep 2018
I write like a paintball machine
Spitting out ***** of paint
In flights of fancy

I write like I think
My thoughts
And emotions
Coming alive

I write like a roller coaster
My mood swings apparent
High to low
And sometimes
Just plain wired

I write like I sing
At moments belting it all out
Other times, softer
Taking the effort
To sing so others will like it

I write like a camera
Taking snapshots
Of everything surrounding me
Both outside
And inside

I write like I cry
The words coming out like an endless waterfall
In a short burst of emotion
Before it stops
And I am light as a feather

I could compare my writing to so much
It’d probably take longer than I have
To name them all
But with just this
I’m sure you can relate

Writing can be a lovely thing
sarah Jan 2018
bits of nostalgia you can fit in your pocket,
full of stories and adventures.
rivers where emotions lie,
giving these snapshots meanings.
Poetess1012 May 2014
Will you remember me,
Long after this day has passed...
Will you remember these words,
These thoughts that I put down now-
A stranger, acquaintance-
Whoever you may be ?

Will you recall me
When your day ends;
To you I am, but
A nameless faceless entity .
I am a thief, a murderer,a convict
Awaiting trial.

For, as you read, I steal !
Your time, your space, your mind!
I hold you captive with these words
No matter how weak my bonds may be...
And YOU are no different my friend,
For, you too steal this time I spend
And take a peak into my deepest sins -
As you invade my privacy that
I risk to share with you,

It's a consensual theft this -
A strange agreement
As is indeed the life that surrounds us,
Meaningless transactions
That bind and shackle.

Will you remember that girl next door
Who failed to get that Howard degree
Or that old man who always sits on that bench
Perhaps pondering about life ,
and the myriad mysteries it holds.
Or maybe that woman who walked past,
With the cheap perfume and simple shoes...
Or perhaps  that little boy down the street ?!

Will any stranger remember YOU?
Without an invention or achievement to your name ?
Without a hefty bank account
Or that ideal philanthropic heart ?

We are all just chemicals,
An experiment gone wrong
And I Know a mundane encounter won't
Make it into the book of your life.
With tomorrow's dawn
These words will fade,
Erase from your memory.
And I know you will forget
To Remember Me ...

— The End —