Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CrookedMantis Dec 2017
I won a trophy!
It has my name on its plaque!
…what do I do now?
Sombro Jul 2017
I can almost expect
What you're worth to me
The search for something I care about
Leads me to consider some like you

To be honest, you're a bit of a plaything,
Some little dolly I can twist
To make me happy, one
Bird in the light's chorus

So the vanity in me congratulates you, you're in, that which I'm sure about
In my garden of the could've-beens
Where all is shelved and warm and no longer offensive

You can be great there, one of the best
And walk through the grass, the fountains of instinct
And meet the others who came before
As though you cared

There, you can taste the sweetness
Of pollen I scatter, brush past currents on the wind I send to ruffle your hair
*** it should be displayed,
Hear the laughter of girls in the painted summer
And appreciate me
Crystal June Jan 2017
Don't fantasize,
Close your eyes.
Your prying lies
Will surely lead to my demise,
For I was born
To be more
Than just a simple wife.

I'm not a trophy by any means,
But I see marriage in your eyes --
Two rings staring right at who you think I am,
The one you want, but I never can
Be the girl that you desire.
You've been confusing my cold shoulder
For an igniting fire.
I'm not trying to call you a liar,
If anything, I'm the one concealing the truth.

I will never be just a wife,
I will lead my own fantastic life.
I'll never wear an apron, curls, or pearls.
I will never be your one and only girl.
I will live for myself and my daughters,
For all those women to come
Who think
All they can ever be is a housewife
Clad in pink.
Honey, there's so much more to this
Than a life in which you depend on a man
For your happiness.

Be your own other half,
Fall in love with your own smile.
I wrote this about a month ago, but it seems relevant now more than ever.
One and Only Dec 2016
I feel like a trophy.
Something to be won,
then thrown away once I begin to dull.

I feel like a trophy,
Paraded around when beautiful,
Left alone to rust and dissolve away.

I feel like a trophy,
loved at the start,
then kept only for the memories

I feel like a trophy,
Marveled at in the spotlight,
then slowly forced to share the shelf space.

I feel like a trophy,
naive enough to think
that that my next owner would treasure me.

I feel like a trophy,**
non-living, replaceable,
and disposable.
I don't get it. What is wrong with me?
Leila The Kiwi Oct 2016
What once ruled the mantel
Now shrivels beside outcasts

Rust crawls toward the heart
Shredding all relevance

Abandoned aspirations
Achievements left unrecognised

Images remain unfocused
Whilst consumed by encroaching demise

The tarnished skeleton
Unveils an aspect of reality.

A youthful audience bears witness
As coarse inscriptions sing
A corrosive chorus.
This describes an elderly person who has been abandoned in a rest home. They've refused to look at photos, achievements, memories, trophies... etc. because they remind them of when they were young and they only want to focus on how close they are to death. The person being described is in a similar situation to a trophy abandoned in a shed with paint tins, empty boxes... etc. It used to hold a lot of importance but now it's just another reject. The final stanza is a grandchild seeing what's become of their once loving grand parent.
The screeching sound of the metal tin can,
Pulls up around the corner of desperation.
Hair flying, adulation from fans,
You know its nothing but imagination.
Howls from inside echo through the sheet,
Music to the ears, and she gobbles it like nectar.
The door opens, and you're looking at her feet,
"Don't move, lest it should fester."
She speaks in an exotic tongue,
Like the animals in the wild.
She places a strong hand on your lung,
While your breathing goes mild.
The tool, ah yes, the tool,
She wields it like a paintbrush.
"Sit still, you pretty fool.",
She spouts, with an excited gush.
The lion's face peers at you,
From the far side of the room.
While a peculiar broth begins to brew,
And a dark mist begins to loom.
The rhino looks helpless on the wall,
Its horn standing out in the line.
" Oh, be calm you sweet little doll,
This should do just fine."
You can smell the taste of the wax,
And breathe in its visual splendor.
While her pleasure has reached its max,
Through the willing gifts, you lend her.
At last, its done and dusted,
And your face adorns the wall.
Wondering how on earth she could be trusted,
But alas! You cannot resist the caravan's call.
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Everyone has their daily struggles
But with depression it's more than doubled
I rise each day to face the sun
But a part of me just wants to run
To hide away and lock the door
Or **** someone and settle the score

The wounds inflected on me I can not hide
You can see them all plainly on every side
They are apart of me, inside and out
I've been prey to many, and my trophy head they mount
In their memory of victims, I'm another count

They did it slow, they took their time, in no hurry
Then sent me off to the f**king taxidermy

They cleaned me up and stuff in the saw dust
But all you see standing before you, is just my crust.
The kid could throw, he really could throw

Scouts were watching back in high school

Arm like a rocket and vision like an owl

Smart too, had all the tools

He could pick apart a defense

He just knew what he could do

But he could throw, the kid could throw

He wasn't coached, the kid just knew

He was fourteen when first spotted

Junior ball in  Eastern Michigan

Throwing footballs, Setting records,

Just to break them all again

His mind was agile like his feet

He just knew how plays should go

He was gonna knock them dead in college

He was a sure thing for the show

He made the coaches look amazing

They never, ever  called a play

He'd run the team alone while playing

He knew just what he had  to say

Three perfect years in highschool

Undefeated every year

State champions...why naturally

The kid just had no fear

He was a leader with that football

He was a man amongst the boys

He sure could pick apart a defense

He broke 'em up like little toys

In third year scouts were knocking

Every college from the East

Full rides without a question

The schools all wanted this young beast

He settled on a team with promise

He knew he could help them win it all

The scouts and coaches stood in awe as

The **** kid could throw that ball

He kept his marks up to the level

That he needed to stay around

He wrote up plays instead of homework

Some in the air, some on the ground

The kid could throw the ****** football

The NFL already knew

He'd already broken most school records

The scouts just knew what he could do

It took two years to make a bowl game

On TV beneath the lights

The country knew of the boy wonder

And they would see it Sunday night

The one thing without question

Was the rocket they called his arm

The coaches built a line around him

They would keep him safe from harm

In third year he decided

He was turning pro that year

The pro scouts all knew of him

The price to get him would be dear

Deals were made through out the summer

Teams were phoning every day

The school was upset he was leaving

The league knew he was set to play

Two first round picks and a reciever

Went to Detroit for his rights

The Lions had the chance to grab him

But the Texans had him in their sights

The Texans proudly took him

He was gonna lead them all the way

The way that this kid threw a football

In Texas they sang "Happy Day"

Our father who are't in heaven

Hallowed be thy name

We lay this boy to rest before us

Before he even played a game

A celebration in a men's club

The boy had come so ****** far

When shots were fired in the crowd there

Two gunmen drove by in a car

He had the world in his possession

Man the kid could throw, really throw

But, fate had chose a different story

How good he was we'll never know
Jordan Fischer Oct 2015
On a new conquest, I embark
Travel light
I found the temple in the dark
Wet, yet warm
Beautiful stems
Curl around my arm
Deeper I go
The water does flow
I feel it in the walls
I hear all of your calls
Carrying on, through the dark damp walls
I found the spot, The spot that has eluded all
A trophy in the form of a waterfall
Cascades over me.
Hayley Feb 2015
She gave him her heart,
thinking very hopefully,
"He'll return it soon enough,"
But he held a trophy

With this valuable heart given to him,
He smiled to himself,
"I guess I'll take it now",
And placed it on the shelf

One day she came over,
And saw the display
"Baby, what's this?"
She asked with dismay

He grabbed her by the wrists,
And whispered in her ear:
"Your heart is mine"
And this filled her with fear

She shivered once more,
And looked into his eyes
"Please, give it back"
And the next event was no surprise

He slit her throat and laughed aloud
"you stupid ******* *****!"

Her blood was already staining,
His perfect hardware floor.
Not sure, it just came to me. I'm not even sure if I like it myself...
Next page