Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jeremy Betts Nov 21
I've heard people are strange
When you're a stranger
A lesson learned
Only as you grow older

Faces look ugly
When you're alone
My past proves
No one pays no mind to what's shown

They say women seem wicked
When you're unwanted
My truth is I've wasted
All the time allotted

Streets are uneven
When you are down
Seemingly impossible
To find solid ground

The strange
Have faces they hide in the rain
It's strange
Couldn't be bothered to remember my name

Are you strange?
Am I strange?
What is straaaaaange?

©2024
Pax Sep 28
Did I waste my life?
In waiting for something?
Or anything that can warm my cold feet.

Did I lose a part of my life?
In taking a step back.
Did I manage my self more than the love I crave?

Nothing change, I am not as proactive
and as eager to find that warmth?
Perhaps, I never care from the start.
kel Sep 6
whatever i do
will always waste my life away
at least that's what you say.
i guess you managed to sway
me onto your side.
because i'm not doing anything i want
to do at this point.
you've made me use another font
to write my life
instead of the messy handwriting
that i'm supposed to use
Malia Sep 4
I’m over here spending twelve stupid years
Becoming a parrot who repeats what she hears
It’s not for the learning, it is for the grade
So I turn off my brain seven hours a day.

I’m wasting, I’m wasting, I’m wasting my time
Even that phrase is a waste of a line
And I’m sick of all of these definitions
Pressing on in, getting marked in red pen—

What am I doing here?
You convinced me there’s answers for everything,
Unvarying, black-and-white lettering,
Supposedly bettering, more like you’re fettering
Me like a prisoner, mental inhibitor
Wish you were valuable, you little swindler,
I’ll play your game, ‘cause that’s all that it is,
A paper to frame, that is all that I get
But if I’m wasting away at this desk,
Forced in the system, then I’ll be the best.
Abi Winder Aug 30
life moves,
and people leave.

my skin will stretch
and my mind will learn.

and maybe it takes time,

but maybe i don’t want to wait,
maybe i don’t have time to waste.
Everything is momentary to a monumental failure;
Monetizing the currency to a means of life
All in the means of life being momentaneous of one’s strife
And it honestly takes a lot of strife, to inspire my own self
To continue on to write — some days, it feels like it’s all coming
To be my very last moment, of forcing myself to inspire
Someone; anyone willing to connect through the wire
Building fences around the ideas we all seem to like:

We all like to be heard; as countless failures to listen
We all like to be anchors of advice; less the ones to gain wisdom
We all like the appeal of more life; dead cold to life’s experiences
We all like the good cards we’re dealt; but would prefer the odds
Of ourselves being the one’s quietly dealing it
We all like the idea of a superhero; something that supersedes faith
We all like the hope of us being connected by love; but what’s
A wicked heart, if it doesn’t sometimes love to hate

Everything we try to do, everything forced into my eyes
Shows me everything we want to do, is often just a waste.
Jamesb Jul 7
I have said I love you
So many times,
Yet that was not enough,
I have changed my very
Heart and soul
To return the real me,
That too was not enough,
I have buttled and battled
For you and for us,
Put self last and
Impoverished myself,
Even so twas not enough

Til now as if waking,
The worried words of friends
Break through,
Ring true,
For all that I
Poured myself out
Over and into you,
The return on my investment,
Love and heart and soul,
That return - requited nurture,
That visceral need for me,
That love returned,
It is actually THAT

Thats

Not

Enough
Sometimes realisations can be painful
Jeremy Betts Jun 28
I sit in this empty room
But I'm not the only one in here
I went and let my demons out
They produce then they feed on my fear
Been here many times before,
More times than I can ignore
I won't shed another wasteful tear
What good's all this crying for?
Both my tear ducts are sore
And it's the same year after year after year

©2024
Jeremy Betts May 13
A fumblin, bumblin'
Waste of skin husband
No one's going with me,
I mean him,
As an option
*** happened?
A premature has been
Similar to the ******* situation
Uh,
So I've heard people sayin'
Get the list of con's reigned in
A list of pro's has never been
Mention every sin in confession
But where to begin
Actually, here's a better question,
Would it even matter in the end?
Let's see what happens when I,
I mean he,
Begins to pretend
If faked long enough can it change the trend,
Or push it all beyond the mend?
Uhhhh, of course, you know,
I'm actually askin' for a friend...

©2024
Zywa May 6
A waste bag bulging

with plastic is cut open:


the seagull's stomach.
Poem "Skip Fûgel Lân" ("Ship Bird Land", 2019, Eeltsje Hettinga)

Collection "Being my own museum"
Next page