#usedup
*Sad homeless rabble
Glory of ex-military
Vote republican*
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
people use me like a rest stop
all my relationships are brief
they get what they need & then leave
they think i'm ok with it
that i'm so "different"
but i'm waiting for the person
who sees that it's a lie
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
"Write a poem," he says,
but what if there's no use
because all the best parts of me
are already used up
and I'm just a crinkled piece of paper
left to blow away with the wind.
I'm empty, nothing left
to inscribe on my pages,
no story remaining to tell,
and so I wait for a strong gust
to come and take me away,
anywhere, just away from here,
because I can't take this place anymore.
"Write a poem," he tells me,
but what if I can't
because my voice has been
taken away from me, and
I don't see a way to transcribe
what doesn't exist. It just isn't
possible, is it? So I'll sit here
and cry this ink onto my pages,
but to be completely honest,
I'm no longer attempting to create
a coherent story because I'm just
a used up, wrinkled slip of paper,
being thrown about without concern.
"Write a poem," he says,
but my words are all used up.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
I lost my heart to a dame called fame
And every day I worshiped her the same
Adoration and power, everyone knew my name
Every step and twirl drew me deeper into her game
I found myself dancing on a slippery ledge in the rain
Until my feet bled and what I lost was much more than I gained
When I could dance no more she twirled into another's arms
Seducing new lovers with her old flashy charms
Who knew not the dues by which she set their alarms
She left me behind, limping and all used up
All because I proved I loved fame far too much
Sold off little bits of my soul for the favour of her smiles
But fame does not love you back, it simply beguiles
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC