Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dolly Balou Jun 2018
Me?
I am me.
I dislike blonde men with ****** hair.
However, I like Kurt Cobain from nirvana.
I also like allowing the rain to wash over me once in a while.
I have experienced pain.
Also heartbreak.
I thought I knew love.
I also thought I knew myself.
This I am attempting to figure out.
Depression.
It's real.
I felt it hit my soul.
I over achieve in most things I attempt.
Yet nothing is ever good enough.
No amount of external praise lifts my spirits.
Internal praise does not exist.
I consider myself bold.
Honest.
Blunt even.
I also consider myself mental.
Ugly.
Impatient.
These are a few of what makes me who I am.
Who would I be without the name I was designated?
Would the previous words define me?

My outer display
is what I portray
I'm cast in the show
this role that I play
This person you see
a facade, it's not me
I choose what I show
and who I will be
Somewhere deep inside
A place where I hide
the person I was
he left or he died
A mascot, I don
A costume put on
I act as I should
The true me is gone
A hologram show
Was lost long ago
who is the real Mike
I no longer know
Written: May 8, 2018

All rights reserved.
(alternate title – A bona
er fide dog day afternoon delight).

A mere half dozen vowels
constitute the English language
    Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay
Consonants comprise majority
  
(sans remaining twenty)
     Ta Deum, whereby both
     in tandem allow, enable and provide
     avast combination

    donning brooks at bay
ample lettered permutations
offer opportunities, where methinks
mother tongue avails

     allows, enables and provides thyself
tubby spell as sigh arrange
     passions linkedin to create, evoke
and generate plenti

     of romantic expressions to convey
an amorous, bedazzling conception
describing ******, graphic,
     and iconic ****** propensities
  
this cobbler, dabbler,
     and fiddler (no,
     not on the roof) doth display
his penchant, lament bent infatuation

     with these twenty-six symbols
     that **** hen ewe to evolve,
     and breed vernacular words
     to reflect from an eBay

definitions apropos
     to the present, which
Uber state farm quixotic oeuvre,
and matchless kindling

     ******* serves as foreplay
for this heterosexual ma reed male
     caressing, finessing, and integrating
expressions of speech

     oft times spurs
     (what might seem as noun sense),
I ponder the peccadilloes
     being sixty nine shades of gray

yet quickly reroute
     ****** predilections
     albeit rolling in the hay
whence this dis straw t fellow
  
conjures affinity,
     comity and excitability
latent within the consanguinity
of bossy verbs assaying boisterously
  
an interjection tubby
     top dog capstone amidst kennel
of barking canines couching
     with another similar subject
  
each with their body electric
nestled upon a davenport faux pas inlay
in conjunction with another
     furry four legged friend,

     the direct object
particularly eye ying a ***** in heat,
     who **** okay
to buffer end an un

     pro noun sub bull underdog species,
     who feels passé
with ****** faw paw play
though averse to insult

     shaggy scoobie doo,
whose bark a role overture
     willingly doth goad her to doggy paddle
while she woofs down remnants

     of a picnic tourists left littered
while Lady and the *****
     head toward the quay
Pier ring for private sloop

     to **** per ****,
     then prematurely ******* hoo ray
afore slyly cagily approaching
     bag of cheap tricks see
     ****** exploits today.
roses are bed May 2018
I knew of a boy who cried wolf

He was once a bright soul

Shattered by something he saw

That day

He screamed in terror as we just watched

His cries echoed by the utter silence and oblivion surrounding him

At first we were quiet, then we laughed

But we didn't like him much

So we ate into him if we got agitated

Took our anger out on him if we wanted

After all, to us

All he could do was cry



So the story goes



With no remains to bury

For the troublesome boy

That always seemed to be haunted

By the wolf inside each and every one of us




We didn't deserve him
These are the words,
I etched upon my skin.
And these are the things,
That cannot stay.

Beauty, grace and all things commonplace.

So hold on to what we are,
Just in case we lose sight of it,
Because that's how life is,
And we are prone to omit,
These parts of ourselves,
into our own dark abyss.
EmperorOfMine May 2018
Here I am on a dark Earth
Here in black, pondering worth
As the demons start to surf
Now new evils come of birth

Every time I look around
There's nothing, not even sound
As Earth's pull starts pulling down
Notice, I'm not on the ground

What am I falling into
What's sticking on me, like glue
No one will care, is it true
Rage in me starting to brew

Eyes that stared avert away
Feel my heart and lungs decay
Yeah, It's bad, it's not okay
I lost words I want to say

Raised my hands up to the sky
There are people around me
As I start questioning why
They pretend like they can't see

They're laughing, I'm not there
They did say, no one would care
I could bet that with my luck
I might get hit by a truck

It's okay, for I am mad
I'm not sane, and now I'm glad
I've lost my world, I've no goal
They can take and churn my soul

No one cares, but who would dare
When in this world was life fair
For you come into life bare
Bound to lose your mind down there
°ˆ°
Next page