the leaves have entered the house more are thriving and not wilting. the vibrance ever so strong Amongst the flowers carried by its fat stems.
our steel founded doors do not stand a chance. All are persistent enough to fill half of this home with wild ferns, curling perpetually.
All grew faster than the strands of my hair thats already been boosted by the magic of human calibre. It pushed me to a side, a small space, and sooner it will just be one tile In this checkered flooring
I am surrounded, my toes to touch the silky forest capsuled in this house. The vines slithering around my legs
It feels as though… As though the Poet inside Has dropped the pen And for the life of me, I just cannot seem To find it... [searching, searching Constantly searching…]
So here I sit Trying to formulate words, Force them out onto paper To try and string cohesive Sentences together
& yet… Yet there is a feeling Like something is lost, Like something is missing. Something invaluable [Priceless] A hole in my soul… Just how do I get it back & close the hole If I just don’t get it..?
Feels like I’m in the clouds But I’m not… Somethings off & I cannot find the switch To turn it back on
Taking pills to sleep while grogginess pursues but when I wake, has seen the morning… & now it wants to spend the day [12.10.2018]
He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking, (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle,) When he doesn’t think we’re looking
You went to school with a **** like this, He always claimed others were cheats. He showed up early only if and when They were serving food and sweets. But never showed up for the work Or did playground games honestly. He claimed twice the victories he had And lied to everyone constantly.
All the deals he makes are scams He pulls the rug out from under. (Were his steaks really just spam?) And leaves giggling at his plunder.
When he got older, he took his dad’s gold And parlayed it into a lifetime game Of promises not kept, and half-truths And, as usual, never once took the blame He preferred never to pay his bills And then bragged about how gullible The creditors were, and how they all Should really have charged him double.
Hey, **, he thinks we don’t know Just what kind of game he’s playing. Just listen to his promises online It’s the opposite of what he’s saying.
But that’s how snake oil salesmen are; They cook up a batch of ***** and herbs And sell it as a cure-all and hurt folks Then laugh and claim it’s what they deserve. And, when his books turn out to be cooked He lies about it way before you start. When asked how he could be so crooked He says, “That’s because I’m so smart!”
He’s the kind that likes to swindle He’s always got some deal cooking. (His bait and switch game doesn’t dwindle) When he doesn’t think we’re looking