I was fourteen
when my mama told me
you work until you die.
Came home my first day.
Had a few bucks in my pocket;
was flying pretty high.
Didn't know what she meant.

Now I've got a lot of money,
(at least more than before)
and I think I understand.
It never ends -
the up, the down,
the coming back around.

I'll work until I die.
Pay the rent, buy the groceries.
Pocket change for a pack of smokes
and a coffee, black and piping hot.
Once you start,
it never ends.

If I ever had a real shot,
I must have missed.
Hannah Sutter May 18
I dare me to be happy.
I dare me to be strong.
To not be blown back and forth be every wave along.

I think that I have courage
it might not be enough.
I dare myself to not grow hard while also growing tough.

A tender heart, a gaze that's firm.
Instead of sulking I will learn.

Mature and determined without growing proud,
softly I will pray out loud.

I'm working to be happy,
I'm working to be firm.
I might not be there yet, but trust and pray that I will learn.
See it's a strange thing,
"self made men"
It's the rage thing,
"forbes front page t'ing"
A majority that's pacing,
voting for a one percent
that in return enslaves them
My girl used to laugh at my jokes
now I'm broke and she fucking hates 'em

I look for aspects of success and then I stage them  
be sure to colour background facebook page 'em
My rent doesn't reflect my wages that's inflation;
that's what I get for living so close to the station

In this pompous student city covered in glitter
and these ditsy Corpus Christi bitches
be getting quicker and quicker and quicker
Don't know how they can afford the liquour
pre-drinks before Ballare movin' on to something bigger

If I see another site with student accommodation
on the hoarding, I might as well go sell my arse;
Start whoring because I'll never make it in this town
I'm one quarter brown and I don't speak Spanish
born in Cranebridge, forced to watch others live lavish
The tourist loves it but a local feels damaged
..
Amanda May 2
It has never been my forte
To find words I really mean
This time I think I know
How vital you are to my routine

Please excuse my stumbles
My mishaps and bumps
Love is a contagious disease
I think my heart has the mumps

And I know you might understand
Just in case you don't
I have been working very hard
To find an antidote
This is one of my early early pieces, i think it's about 9 years old
Shayn Powell Apr 17
the yellow brick  road
into the sunset we go
blinded by the light
Haiku poem, very 1st one i've written.
Mary-Eliz Mar 25
sitting by a window
staring out the smudged pane
past the polychromatic crowds
bent, huddled, faceless in the rain

a smeared image swirling by
modern art painting not yet dry

wishing to nod off
tired to the bone
the rattle and rumble beneath
the stop and the start
keep my weary eyelids apart

the odors of crowded humanity
fill my nostrils,
make them burn
alcohol, sweat, stale cigarette smoke
on clothes that are old and worn

garlic, deep fryer grease
pastrami and cheese in a sack
blood dried on the apron
slung over a butcher's back

a cacophony of noises
surge inside the car
papers rattle, fingers tap
on electronics or on steel bar

~~~

nobody's talking
eyes are downcast
to newspaper, cell phone
or hangnail
fear and distrust
thick in the air
scattered about like
yesterday's mail

on this common commuter carrier
they're traveling the same route

home

just working folks
trying to make it all work out

they have much in common
in a way, aren't they all kin?
worn and weary at end of day,
fellows in the midst of this din?

14th Street station ahead
warns of various dangers
posted there on a column decreed

Please do not smile at strangers
I believe this is a real sign. It looks to be in the picture online.
SangAndTranen Mar 22
Mirror mirror on the wall
How dare you show me that face
I am disgusted the image displayed
'Tis one I must replace.

Mirror mirror on the wall
Turn away from me
Don't highlight my eyes or the curve of my lips
I don't want to see.

Mirror mirror on the wall
You ambush me every time I come in.
There she is, glaring in glassy grey
The woman with a face of sin.

Mirror mirror on the wall
I'll drape a veil over you
Just like I do myself every day
You can be a mourner too.

Mirror mirror on the floor
Look at your warped shards of me
A fit of anger, a rage of hate
I have won, and I.
  Will.
      Not.
          See.
Inspired by a line from a song called "Hungry For Another One" by JTMusic
arra Mar 13
One last ink
And this semester will end
One last ink
Pass or fail will be gone
One last ink
And I will be free from this cage
They set me in
One. Last. Ink
One step forward
To the real world—
Of another papers
Of uneven failures
Of money—
Am I ready for this?
I need another bottle of ink.
Thinking of graduation in college and me working in corporate world makes me dizzy. I'm not ready, and I'm still not sure when I'll be
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