Why is it always trash night?
Just another small thing I fight
Like tailpipes on the highway
And timelines that go sideways...
It's the trivial things that eat me up
Nibble by nibble, right through my gut
Don't sweat the small stuff?
****, that sounds nice
But what if the small stuff
Is your entire ******* life.

I need you to stay in your place
So I can drive off the cliff safe
Hold on to your seat
Say your final deceit
There's a tree heading straight for your face

Trash heap
Fast asleep
Walk right past
Make it fast
Cross the street
Eyes on feet
Don't dare see
What could be me

Metal, blood, and oil
plunged into the sea
Only at the hands of men
could this be
Beautiful things aren't here
for us to enjoy
Nor are they ours
to freely destroy
Yet to burn the world down
seems mankind's fate
Because of our love of money
and our nature to hate
Yes, we'll torch this innocent Earth to the ground
Till it's just another lifeless rock spinning around
And space won't remember us
neither will time
Our entire existence
an unspeakable crime
We don't deserve this place
and she doesn't deserve us
Our metal, blood, and oil
will turn her to dust

I tried to write a poem everyone would like.
I struggled with it for years.
But every time I thought I had,
my words fell on deaf ears.

And so I sat, head in hands, and wondered what to write.
How could words that mean so much to me, to others not sound trite?

I tried to write a poem everyone would like.
I wasted many years.
But this wave of rage, I'm foaming in,
still crashes on deaf  ears