#boop - Hello Poetry

"Write a poem about snakes because they're adorable boopers" sneaky snek looking for maus i see snek i boop {Hope you're happy now}

0

Dec 16, 2019

Dec 16, 2019 at 3:51 AM UTC

gothmetalnerd

Note 276:

"Write a poem about snakes because they're adorable boopers" sneaky snek looking for maus i see snek i boop {Hope you're happy now}

6

there's our zealous king zeph with his wife the anxious queen amaryce be careful zeph the queen she warns our kingdom will fall in prophecy its sworn one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall first falls z not many use it you see now what do we call the king? how bout luke it has a nice ring! one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall next falls q in the wind it flew now what do we call amaryce? how bout king number 2! one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall next falls x and m oh wow what'll we be left with then? king 2 will be referred to as lucy you see it fits nicely!

0

Nov 26, 2016

Nov 26, 2016 at 3:34 AM UTC

N0R5K1G0D

Oh No They Fall

there's our zealous king zeph with his wife the anxious queen amaryce be careful zeph the queen she warns our kingdom will fall in prophecy its sworn one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall first falls z not many use it you see now what do we call the king? how bout luke it has a nice ring! one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall next falls q in the wind it flew now what do we call amaryce? how bout king number 2! one by one the letters they fall one by one they can't recall next falls x and m oh wow what'll we be left with then? king 2 will be referred to as lucy you see it fits nicely!

30

Show me, you say, show me the hallway. Show me the bedroom, show me where we used to live. That tree, over there, with the apples. You, and then not you. You, crossed out. You, in the windowsill with your hair pulled back. Take me, I say, take me like we're already dead. You know how this ends. My hands, your hands, harmony. A lit match, maybe. And death itself, there beside us. **** me, you know how, you've done this before, I say, panic and soap that smells a bit too much like your brother's wake. Play me a funeral song. Impress me, and you say, what's left to impress? And maybe I'm not the antichrist, but it's not like you are, either. This, our hands, you, the radio stuck on one station, crossed out. Red pen. This isn't a temporary solution. You're singing, I say, and you just keep on, say, this isn't a funeral, like it's none of my business. The radio again, playing the only way it knows how. The mountains, over there in the distance, spying on us. Your hands, my hands, tied up like knots, like this is the only way we can love. But it’s not, is it, don't you remember the treehouse? Three blocks down the road a man has blood on his hands, and you are the man and you aren't, all at once. You, me, clockwork. A bell, tolling in the distance. Repeat.

0

Oct 1, 2014

Oct 1, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC

buckybarnes

proceed with caution

Show me, you say, show me the hallway. Show me the bedroom, show me where we used to live. That tree, over there, with the apples. You, and then not you. You, crossed out. You, in the windowsill with your hair pulled back. Take me, I say, take me like we're already dead. You know how this ends. My hands, your hands, harmony. A lit match, maybe. And death itself, there beside us. **** me, you know how, you've done this before, I say, panic and soap that smells a bit too much like your brother's wake. Play me a funeral song. Impress me, and you say, what's left to impress? And maybe I'm not the antichrist, but it's not like you are, either. This, our hands, you, the radio stuck on one station, crossed out. Red pen. This isn't a temporary solution. You're singing, I say, and you just keep on, say, this isn't a funeral, like it's none of my business. The radio again, playing the only way it knows how. The mountains, over there in the distance, spying on us. Your hands, my hands, tied up like knots, like this is the only way we can love. But it’s not, is it, don't you remember the treehouse? Three blocks down the road a man has blood on his hands, and you are the man and you aren't, all at once. You, me, clockwork. A bell, tolling in the distance. Repeat.

31

guess you shouldve thought about that before you broke your mothers back,huh,sweetheart?

0

Sep 1, 2014

Sep 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC

buckybarnes

stop calling me a witch vol 2

guess you shouldve thought about that before you broke your mothers back,huh,sweetheart?

2