#posts
Vain loved his vanity,
From which he gazed at his vanity,
One might call it insanity,
Or self-centered depravity.
He loved the color in his eyes,
The prettiest blue, he surmised.
He praised the scar on his left thigh,
Despite its fracture in his picture-perfect guise.
He took another selfie,
To boast about his vanity,
But little did he know,
All he had to show,
Were about a million fans who loved his body,
And turned that into his entire personality.
One day, Vain woke up,
There were no comments on his post.
Something was amok,
It was as if he were a ghost.
Someone new had come onto the block,
A gorgeous girl named Guinevere.
Her post had put him into shock,
As his body shook with fear.
He quickly posed and took a selfie,
His fans rushed back only temporarily.
If he lost his purpose,
That meant the voices weren’t wrong when they called him worthless.
How could he deserve this?
Vain’s vanity was one of his biggest curses.
Guinevere won in the end,
She got the fans, the money, and all the fake friends.
Vain was gutted,
His heart was broken.
Was this preordained?
Was all of Vain’s vanity in vain?
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
Peeping through blinds, double tap what I like,
—but less active in being interactive
A lot of people are so attractive,
—but funny how I'd say that after they're shaking their *****
Its still for the masses; holding a hunger so massive
as those you tend to like, put you on a list of
their passes
DM sliding into slippery situations,
hoping to get a response from a like on my comments
Still that’s not what I’m about,
—but as I’m feeding my eyes, scrolling on feeds
Not every picture is as reel,
—but unlike a tear on my skin, every unappealing
factor I feel is so real
It's just a thrill, I hate to have at times, and appearing
a thirsty guy
So maybe I'll just leave a nice comment about
the beauty of life, even it doesn't get a reply
And the response to recent posts is staring at the background
with a set of emoji eyes
Sep 29, 2022
Sep 29, 2022 at 9:16 AM UTC
How the angels pick their places - each star a post.
Not that some want to be noticed. Only, they like to be
distanced.
To remind reaching eyes that there is brightness in one
voice.
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
I'm tired. Exhausted is more like it. Sometimes I want something so bad I get overwhelmed and then comes the questioning, why am I doing this, is it worth doing and if it's worth doing what makes it worth it? It's 6:21 AM this moment, 6 hours and 21 minutes into another day, I'm sitting at a table next to the balcony, the door is wide open and I see the sun, the sun is just rising but it's blocked by a tree, so I look at the sun and the sun isn't blinding, not at this moment though soon it will be...
...soon it'll rise up above all the branches, soon if I look at the sun it'll hurt so when that moment comes, when the time is just right, I will look at the sun and the sun will be blinding.
There's also a bird, it sounds like it's moaning but I know that it isn't, that's just how it sounds. A bird which sings but it's not really singing, it makes such a sound you would think it was sad but it isn't so sad, at least I don't think so, I don't think that birds have the ability to feel, not physical feelings but ones from within, emotions like sadness which makes a bird moan, a moan like the sound that is made by a feeling that humans can feel and that all of us feel but we all feel it sometimes and for a whole host of reasons like when we are sitting in front of a laptop which is on a small table right next to a balcony beyond which the trees block the sun as it rises and while it is rising the leaves block the sunshine so during that time which is just a few minutes you can look at the sun and the sun isn't blinding...
...and when it is 6 hours and 35 minutes into a new day, at 6:35AM is a moment in time which is captured in words which I choose to write down but there isn't much to them, no meaning no feeling no reason for writing the words that I'm writing and so as I write this I realize it's pointless, these words have no worth so they're no more then letters, a whole mass of letters I'm stringing together for no ******* reason and so I'll stop writing and now that I'm stopping to write without meaning the logical question is why publish this message if this message is worthless, there's no reason for it thus no reason why I should hit the blue button which has 4 letters in it which create the word "Post" which means if I click it I'll be posting this message which has less purpose than the blue button which posts it, and so what I'll do is stop writing this nothing and instead of all this nothing I'll click the blue button which has more worth than all these words and that's really sad if you think about a button worth more than the whole of this stupid, pointless post...
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
•
you
secretly
wishing, for
your writes to be
noticed•simple sign
that they have not been
missed•with every view
and every like•your popu-
larity does spike•somewhat
places your art on the poetry
map•between major players,
you close the gap•constantly
checking to see who's been
reading•you're always deli-
ghted to see the *'yellow
lightning'*•a wish...
for those who
are writ-
ing
•
secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending•
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:31 AM UTC