"asap" poems
your best stuff will never be posted here
<>
***goose, you crack me up,
your bests stuffs can never be posted,
the tender stroke away of a child’s tear,
the welcoming of a smile delightfully unexpected,
a first grade art project so successful
it is mounted forever on a
front door Hall of Fame
a good cry all your own,
in private sobbing,
mouth mourning the absence of
a kiss on the back of your neck
shivers with surprising waves of pleasure,
that announces you are more than noticed
if you can post these stuffs,
call me asap,
because that’s the sight
I wanna see & be,
when only the best stuff you got given,
given got,
becomes real***
10:03am
4/11/19
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 2:16 PM UTC
the earth is curved - sure y’all knew that.
but to get to the Northwest,
Interstate 84
ain’t le route plus directe
nope curve north to Ontario,
wave to Bex as I cross over
London and Toronto, also can’t recall
which poet from Rochester hails,
or did they shuffle off to Buffalo?
Crossing Erie, Huron, and Michigan Great Lakes all,
brings to mind
my mother’s birthplace,
Last of the Mohicans,
and the three years I did in the Cleveland Penitentiary,
where sun was illegal and baseball was a pretend play
of cowboys and Indians
but by god, it made me
the penitent fella I am today
Look skyward to Montreal,
yes, there he is, the Leo Priest,
the baffled king,
blessing this poetic meet ‘n greet trip
with a smiling unsurprising
hallelujah
Apparently some US citizens still can traverse O Canada,
even if one forgot their passports,
and are not PNG’s (Persons Not so GREAT)
over Minneapolis shed a tear for Diane,
a poet- gone-missing, and wonder if you reader come from
St. Cloud, Fargo or Duluth, Bismarck or Aberdeen,
surely they still speak poetic English there
in a twangy metering methodology - well, message me asap
wow there really is a Saskatoon!
the pilot asks us to lean left in our seats
to help turn the plane
so we go to Portland and not to Vancouver...
me thinks he might be a touch Rockie Mountain High,
considering we are at 30 thousand something Imperial,
as he walks the main cabin with an oxygen mask and a
huuuuuge grin
see the distant Cascades
through a crack in the shuttered windows,
must be close to “the coast”
(as if, harrumph, there were but one)
ah, words in the clouds, ripe for the plucking
must be getting close to Oregon,
where poets grow on trees, woody words like ****
and log-float poems down the Columbia to the sea
gonna drink me some poets
under the table cause this
trip I ain’t no driving and I am already
“flying” ‘n scribing and arriving
on a high tide and a good wind
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
What a guy!
What a player!
On the field he was the slayer.
The only son, the one to watch.
The one who others tried to match.
He had the looks and physique
A grades at school for all to see.
Now he pays a heavy price
Drinks Jack Daniels every night
For all his life he was pushed
To be valour dictorum in the year book
He had problems so deep inside
He didn't want footballers thighs
He wanted silk and lace with heels
Not the college football kit
If he could have what he dreamed
He'd be a cheerleader on that field
As a boy late at night
He gave his mom a real fright
There he was in her clothes
His father beat him and killed his soul
Years went by and James was wed
So he wore his wife's clothes instead!
Till one day he bought his own
Shaved his legs and went out alone
He bumped into a group of jocks
Who beat him because he wore a frock
Now in the mirror he has scars
That match the hundreds still inside
For James outside to all of you
Was Jayne inside and then showed you
But now at 50 for him to late
To be reasigned and be just Jayne
Times have changed and so have views
If he wants to, let him wear Jimmy Choos
So if any friends I have Called John
Wants to be simply Joanne
Let me know asap
We can celebrate with a drink.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Jakarta, 1986
Wanita berambut cokelat muda sebahu itu terlihat sedang asyik mengamati asap rokok yang ia keluarkan sebelum membuang puntung rokok ke tanah dan menginjaknya. Jalanan di Jakarta memang selalu ramai tapi tak satupun mobil-mobil yang sedang berlalu-lalang itu akan berhenti dan menghentikan apa yang akan ia lakukan setelah jam menunjukkan pukul lima pagi. Masih terngiang di kepala apa yang orang-orang katakan tentangnya selama ini.. sampah, pelacur memang tidak pantas hidup enak, ingat ya, kau itu cuma pelacur ia memejamkan mata sambil perlahan menghitung berapa kali ia telah mendengarkan cacian setiap pulang.
Jam yang berada di tangan kirinya masih menunjukkan pukul lima kurang lima belas menit, ya lima belas menit yang ia gunakan untuk akhirnya mengingat perkataan Abimanyu. Laki-laki terakhir yang memberikan segalanya, harta, kasih sayang, dan waktu tapi ia tak dapat menikmati itu semua walau sudah mencoba beribu kali aku tidak akan pernah berubah menjadi laki-laki yang sudah menyia-nyiakanmu ,kau tahu bahwa seberapapun mahalnya berlian apabila yang memakainya tidak pantas maka akan terlihat murah?, kau terlihat cantik dengan apapun, aku melakukan semua ini karena aku tak sanggup melihatmu sedih, aku akan terus mencintaimu walau kau tak akan pernah bisa membalas perasaanku yang hanya akan selalu ia balas dengan aku sudah tak percaya cinta atau aku sudah tak punya hati hatinya telah membeku dicabik-cabik sejak dulu, sebelum bertemu Abimanyu. Air mata perlahan mengalir dari mata yang tertutup itu, lima menit lagi batinnya sebelum mengusap air mata yang sudah membasah pipi dan meluruskan gaun putih rancangan desainer terkenal yang diberikan sebagai hadiah untuknya tak dipungkiri gaun itu bernilai lebih dari penghasilannya selama satu bulan namun apalah arti uang disini?
Ia kembali melirik jam yang sekarang menunjukkan dua menit sebelum pukul lima, diatas jembatan layang itu masih ramai oleh hiruk-pikuk kendaraan. Tenanglah tak akan ada yang mampu menyelamatkanmu.
Jam sudah menunjukkan pukul lima pagi, tanpa berpikir panjang ia melepas pegangannya dari pagar yang menopang tubuh dan terjun bebas tanpa ada perlawanan terhadap gravitasi.
Tak semua bidadari hidup bahagia di surga
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
Wanted:-
One good woman to give the man that loved her, a second chance. Preferably seeking the woman who he gave his heart to. Tomorrow may be too late. Contact ASAP. I’m not buying or selling anything; only one heart to give: one good-hearted woman to forgive the imperfections in the man who loved her. Wanted – just ONE chance to tell her how much he still loves her. And how much he will give just for her to talk to him, and give him a second chance.
I hope she comes back, when she reads these words.
Number: Well, she has it in that little book somewhere.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 1:20 PM UTC
- Pain
- Endless supply
- Free of cost
- Condition: Used
- Need room for other feelings
- Please reply ASAP
My mother always taught me that if I don't want something, to just donate. Someone could always use it for good. So, please, take it away from me... I don't want it anymore.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC
Pukul satu, kakiku melangkah ke sudut warung kecil itu
Sunyi, lalu ku pilih tempat duduk di ujung sana
Setelah memesan kopi, pilot ku menggores kertas
Yang sama putihnya dengan kulitmu
Tak lupa kubakar ujung rokokku
Yang namanya sehangat pelukanmu
Lalu kuhembuskan kepulan asap tembakau
Menguar sama harumnya dengan tubuhmu
Sepekat nikotin di pembuluhku
Ku tulis kisah kita, dari awal mula hingga akhir bersua
Yang terdampar di sudut kenangan dan rindu,
dan kupaksakan masuk ke dalam loker kerjaku
Sehingga lupa ku adalah tabu, dan memoir adalah *****
Dirimu ku lukis dalam surat ini;
"Di hingar bingar kota, dimanakah kau berada?
Jika lelahmu beradu, dimakah kau berteduh?
Aku disini kasih, Surabaya tempatmu lari
Menolehlah jika kau ada di sudut persimpangan
Mungkin, aku disitu mencari dan mencari
Sisa-sisa cintamu jika itu memang terjatuh
Menadah air matamu, jika itu memang tercecer.
Temui aku, jika berkenan menjumpa nostalgia"
Kuhembuskan uap-uap tar yang menguning
Menerawang di bohlam remang-remang.
Ketika kabut itu pergi, begitu pula aku
Saat api ini padam, redup juga jiwaku
Pukul tiga aku beranjak,
Bayar dan pergi
Surat itu kutinggalkan di atas meja.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC
*After five good years of drought
It rained kisses and warming hugs
After my heart emaciating from rejection
I have experienced a resurrection
She kissed me wholly and deep
She sowed and had to reap
Could not recall the feminine grip
Even how to undo a lady zip
She kissed my upper and lower lip
Then around my body took a trip
Tore my favorite shirt,no time to unbutton
She ate my skin softly hard as a glutton
Not sure it was her mouth on my ***
Cause I couldn't open my eyes as she did it
She passed her soft fingers on my chest
Luckily I hadn't on my fitting vest
Crawled about my belly like a worm
While my ****** heart beat loud as a drum
She said something I didn't hear
Because passion had blocked my ear
She then undid my belt and my trousers
Quicker than all internet browsers
Then...then put the muzzle in her mouth
Was she aware of the bullet, I doubt
She cleared all the rust through the years
While in pleasure I cried happy tears
She knew how to hold the whistle and blow
Between where she knelt down low
Her palm around me was a soft tight glove
Felt she's the one that I deserved
Like a snake she crawled back up
And astride the volcanic plug sat Asap
Not afraid of the sharp edges causing harm
She kissed me violently and hurt my gum
I just couldn't care less at such a moment
Of a soothing ride, a welcome torment
Soon overtaken by my inner animal
I realized I could not take it anymore
And took charge of the walk to heaven
While the clock alarmed, think eleven
She arched tout like a hunters bow
And her eyes brightly seemed to glow
My journey deep was careful and slow
But the return as swift as Pacman's blow
I loved the way she clawed her nails
Into me, she reopened all my wells
I wanted to take her for a longer ride
But the wave of passion killed me,I died
Even when we were done I remained inside
Watching her skin as pale as transfiguration
Out of the joy we had shared, I'm glad
I received my emotional resurrection*
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
Guys don't open any messages from sgg. In inbox please report as the message they send is linked to a virus. Please report and block so we can crack down on this asap.
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 3:41 PM UTC
Romilda was an old lady,
She had no small baby,
So she petted her sisters daughter,
Who only drank milk but not water,
Little baby had a nice name which was Angelina Geolly
But her life was a worry,
She never went for the studio,
Never had Romeo,
She was brought up at a village,
But had a wide knowledge,
Her old aunt was always frank,
But Angelina Geolly use to prank,
One morning Angelina knocked her head on the wall,
And started dialing a call,
It was to none other than the fire brigade,
Hello, Come asap for our gate, Fire! Fear! Fire!
After an hour they reached in,
It was all about a recycle bin
Angeline had only meant, fire at her aunts cooker,
But they responded you little sucker!
The poor Aunt Matilda had to pay,
For their visit all the way
But still the house wasn’t grey!
Some people, few people started to blame Angelina Geolly!
She ran into her trolley,
And Angelina Cried Cried Cried,
But later she was Fried Fried Fried
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 11:30 PM UTC
Trump feathers his caps
faux wings fly his maps
in mind's pond, gold laps
a big ego he claps
his faucet lost taps
a drought he play wraps
behind two faces yaps
of how he fills gaps
enough of his craps
where our poor dig scraps
and our rich gift wraps
enough watching saps
with twitter backslaps
and infidelity bootstraps
enough of this cold snaps
as our leader naps
of dreams his madcaps
I say impeach, asap(s)
than befall his traps
Logan Robertson
5/31/2018
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
May yosi at may asap
Blankong tingin at sipat
Salamin na pang loko
Kulang sa balbas pa no.
Nag aaral ka pa ba
ang tinanong niya sa
Isang batang maliit
Oo po, sagot ng paslit
Parang karaniwan lang
Kung hindi natuluyan
________
Cigarettes and clouds
Blank stares on looking
A fake mirror and guise
Given away by a lack of ****** hair.
"Do you still study"
He asked
The small boy
"Yeah", said the young one.
As if it were normal
Should he say no.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
Segenap usia t'lah ku pegang. Namun, akankah telepas? Usia akhir hampirkah dekat. Apakah raga akan terbunuh?
Cintaku belum tergapai. Bisik hasut baik, terngiang di telinga. menyerukan kata indah tentang cinta. Agar ku tak merasa terikat usia.
Belum lama ku cicipi dunia. Akankah kandas bagai tergilas. Tiupan angin menjadi puing. Terbakar api menjadi debu.
Nyawa kini menjadi asap. Tak berguna tanpa cinta. Menangis haru karena suara indah. Dan tersenyum bahagia bermimpi cinta.
Created by. Aridea Purple
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 8:55 AM UTC
dinner Greenport-side, watching the shuffling ferries do
their sworn duty, a back ‘n forth wearisome toll,
while we sip a rose and a PBR, respectively and with respect
no enthusiasm afterward for anything but an early off to bed,
and slip into pj’s asap
me in my knackered wholly Hanes fundie knickers,
no thinking required
but she
retires, re-attires in a summery combo,
a gray sweat t-shirt and green and white
plaid pj pants
which she is unawares are my favorites
cause they lop off fifty years,
a teenage woman re-incarnate recreated
cause her figure now womanly full,
better than then
morning awake l, a disturbance of the peace,
recall a snuggling a wake up hug,
and her bottoms conspicuously
gone missing
over break fast I inquire
over yogurt and berries and a
smoked mozzarella omelette,
what happened to those plaid bottoms?
assuming I was innocent of any transgressions
as best I could recall
with a sheepish childlike grin,
that made look like she was twenty again,
to match the now yoga toned body,
she confesses:
forgot to tie the bowstrings
and they slipped down to my ankles
blessed and cursed I thought!
too much of a gentleman to take advantage,
AND my situational awareness was slipping badly,
but when a poem comes across,
ready and pre-writ,
I’m still young enough to grab aholt of it
and never let go
6/23/18
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
Bagaimana bisa,
Berjalan diselimuti keresahan,
Dibalut dengan beludru kekhawatiran yang cukup tebal,
Bagaimana bisa,
Berjalan dengan kaki beralaskan keserakahan,
Dan kaus kaki kemunafikan sebagai pelindungnya,
Bagaimana bisa,
Melanjutkan hidup
Dengan perjalanan penuh asap kebohongan?
Tentu kau bisa terus berjalan,
Tentu kau bisa terus hidup,
Walau harus memikul
Ketidaknyamanan dalam perjalanan,
Namun,
Siapa peduli?
Peduli dengan ketidaknyamananmu,
Kau bilang?
Mereka bahkan tidak sadar,
Mata mereka,
Buta akan kesengsaraanmu
Kecuali,
Dengan kekalahanmu
Jan 1, 2021
Jan 1, 2021 at 4:22 PM UTC
Glances from across the room louder than the music
louder than the bass that everyone is waiting drop.
Musical notes clamouring against the floor,
don't pick them up.
leave them there,
walk around them
on tip toe
in ballet slippered feet.
feather light or lead heavy.
veins of lightning.
forming vowel sounds with my mouth.
ooooooOooOOO
EEeeeee
i. i. i.
AHhhhhh
Sew me together with fingertips like the soft kiss of lemon drops,
coming up the stairwell
the warmth of wanting
the bite of yearning.
Flushed pink.
Pinched red.
Pricked purple.
Spaghetti mind of soft thoughts
turning hard and stale like cracked chapped candy cane lips.
Naked and waiting.
Scabbed mosquito bites that bled bright red.
OOoooowww.
Gimme a sec.
3-5 business days until rejection.
I'll keep you posted.
48 hours of maybe.
Lemme get back to you.
No RSVP
establishing a lack of certainty.
but but but
Re: Urgent: Plz Respond ASAP
But when?
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
Hey, elegant cat,
you think you can
rest there sitting so prim and well-brought up
and think I’ll bring you some sparrows I catch
on from the tree-top?
You got to move your **** brother;
Sparrows don’t fall off trees like ripe fruit
for you to pick from the ground, you know.
Or maybe you don’t know.
And I’m not going to be doing the work
for you, wild cat and friendless as I am.
I live on my own, catch my own sparrows
and eat my own dinner
and lick my lips and I sleep under the shade of the tree
when my tummy’s full
and sure, that’s all I care about
getting my daily meals.
And not even in your wildest dreams, hey well-washed cat,
not even in your wildest dreams
do I have desire to share bird meat and bones with anyone
and especially not with an elegant rich-home cat like you…
Well, you can have the feathers, if you like.
Now really, how did a nice cat like you get lost?
Is this your day out or what?
Some kind of an expedition day?
You want a sparrow to eat?
Get your fat **** here up the tree
with as much stealth as you can
and catch yourself one!
And you stupid cat from comfy rooms
having sat your **** on soft cushions all your life –
stop meow-meowing with hunger! – you’ll scare the birds away,
you unnatural, unnatural domesticated cat!
You know, you’d be better off using your powers of sight
and finding your way back
from wherever you came from and get back
to mummy’s home asap.
Go stand under some lamp post where they might have a
Cuddly Cat Lost sign
and someone might bring you to your owner for a reward.
No way you going to survive in the open, brother!
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 10:33 AM UTC
**Dear Nat,
When I grow up,
I think that my
Wonder Woman cape,
that flys behind
so gracefully,
as I wrestle villains,
intent upon
World Destruction
will morph into a
***** dish rag
that hangs limply
from my shoulder,
as I tend too,
mountains of
folding and training of
hysterical toddlers
to be stable products
in society
Is what shape,
this cape, marking me
"all-grown-up'?
Signed,
Helen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**
Dear Wonder Woman,
(Borrowing from and with apologies to
Arthur Herzog Jr. and Billie Holiday...)
This ball you tossed,
Arrived early morn,
Forcing me tocontemplate
the choice between
Shaving, and /or poetically,
dispelling your
Grand Confusion.
Fancy that, as I pondered
How to best express,
The obvious reply,
the BS&T; sang the answer
Obviatin' the need,
To discuss your heroics,
The care, the feed,
Those you care for,
Attend their needs.
*God bless the child
that's got his own,
God bless' the child
who can stand up and say
I've got my own
Ev'ry child's, got to have his own,
His very own.*
I could be more explicit,
That when I was a child,
A red dish cloth was a
Perfectly good ASAP cape,
That defeating bad guys
Hungry work that needed
Ring Dings + milk, to soothe a
Superhero's Superman
And both arrived courtesy of
Wonder Mom.
So rather than ramble,
Let this preamble
suffice:
*God bless the child
that's got his own,
Wonder Woman*
N.B. This message has been approved by the
Justice League of America, Australia Branch.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
Pada suatu hari yang kejam.
Budi mau ke sekolah.
Ganti baju, minum susu, tidak lupa gosok gigi.
“Buk, Budi berangkat dulu ya.”
Ibu pertiwi tidak menjawab.
Budi melongok ke dapur lalu melihat ibu pertiwi.
Tampangnya kusut, pakaiannya berantakan dan matanya sembab.
Budi marah.
Sosok bangsat macam mana yang telah membuat ibu pertiwi sedih !
Di mana bapak pertiwi? Ibu pertiwi sudah jadi janda dan masih dicabuli. Memang anjing !
Jadi siapa yang telah membuat ibu pertiwi sedih?
Apakah si bangsat itu adalah mereka?
Yang menanam beton raksasa dan mengambil semua dengan paksa?
Atau apakah si bangsat itu adalah kalian?
Yang menumpang dan mengotori air udara tanah, menggusur alam atas nama pembangunan?
Atau apakah si bangsat itu adalah dia ?
Yang berjalan angkuh dan tamak. Sesekali mencari peluang, sumber daya mana lagi yang bisa di sikat ?
Babat terus tambang, sekalian laut, hutan, juga hewan!
Atau apakah si bangsat itu adalah saya ?
Bersembunyi di balik hati nurani yang katanya peduli, katanya cinta bumi, saya adalah omong kosong!
Saya tidak benar-benar cinta. Jijik betul merasa ibu pertiwi sungguh berarti, ikut menjerit ketika ia ternodai, mana yang lebih munafik apakah diri saya atau aksi ?
Pada suatu hari yang kejam,
Budi tidak berangkat ke sekolah.
Akal sehat budi meronta ingin lari selamatkan diri bersama ibu pertiwi.
Anak cicit Adam dan Hawa terlalu goblok dan jahat.
Manusia terlalu serakah dan merasa berkuasa.
Lihat itu,
Asap hitam pekat bergerak mendekat.
Mampus kau! Ibu pertiwi sudah sekarat!
Pada suatu hari yang kejam,
malam datang dan manusia mulai buta.
Ibu pertiwi gelap gulita, budi merangkak tanpa arah.
Apa perlu listrik untuk buka mata?
Atau cukup hanya sepercik bara?
Budi bingung. Ibu pertiwi sedih. Bapak pertiwi bodo amat.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
~a letter for you
Kita,
Dari daerah melangsir ke kota
Dari kota berbalik ke daerah
Dan takkan dapat lagi ke kota
Lain sebab apa, lain sebab kenapa
Kendatipun impresi memberontak kita
Kota,
Kita ingat tentang kota
Kota takkan ingat kita
Sebab kita tak miliki tahta
Lain sebab apa, lain sebab kenapa
Apa daya reminisensi meronta
Kota,
Kita ingat tentang kota
Kawanan sutet di kota kita
Menari menawan menara kota
Dekorasi dari kita, gradasi ufuk dunia
Persuasi para penguasa kota
Prasasti Suwarnadwipa, pula
Visualisasi ragam abiotik Tuhan Yang Esa
Kota,
Kita ingat tentang kota
Hamparan ladang pabrik di kota
Riasan pipa asap terus-menerus menyala, gradasi ufuk dunia
Luas menggugah animo di daerah
Meski honorarium tak seberapa
Kita duga cukup tuk besar di kota
Manalagi di daerah
Kita,
Telah lama tak singgah pada kota
Lain sebab apa, lain sebab kenapa
Kota kita indah katanya
Kota, bilamana kita berjumpa pula?
Kita takkan abaikan memori tentang kota
Lain sebab apa, lain sebab kenapa
Kota kita indah katanya
Kota, bilamana kita berjumpa pula?
Dari pengagummu di daerah
Tuk segenap kenangan kota yang hampa.
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 10:40 AM UTC
Aging Poetry Well (proving the valor of writing poetry)
no more write, post, establish
to your immediate satisfaction,
what you are
what you think
is an amazing piece of
just you,
plus+comprehending
the world needs it, you,
ASAP!
needy for the
cosplay contemporaneous sharing,
curse of our
instantaneous time
from now on
deep down, gonna let it
casket age,
let memory
of the intensity
rust sufficiently to
get some time~plied
rusted accurate actualized
perspective
maybe trash it,
maybe tinker and
spot-check edit,
but if it is going
to stand
time testing,
let it pass a
first Herculean
examination of
fire and forget,
returning later
to collect it,
the wounded
that,
refusing to die,
thus proving proof,
the valor of
red badged courage of
writing poetry
is it worthy long after
the internal commotion
has passed,
just like
an ordinary
but very first
"I love you"
forming and reforming
then blurted in
a wunderkind awkwardness,
that can't be
taken back,
well, *** and all that
put me aside,
could be weeks,
months,
researching
the thing I love most,
waiting for the day I
need it worse,
a lot less,
so I can
do it better
maybe even go back
look up them
odd old folks,
written in
longing ago high passion,
and come at them
differently
or wistfully,
not
and like me,
age
for better
or
for worse
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
BRB, LOL
*** what the hell?
Can't today's kids learn to spell?
The things they write
I cannot tell
Has education
Gone to hell?
Can someone out there help me?
I can't read what they've written down
They're writing's really rotten
Penmanship's a basic skill
That most kids have forgotten
**** BRB
404 AND BBC
These don't mean a thing to me
Can someone out there help me?
Spellcheck is their holy grail
Without this app, most kids would fail
There'd be no words in tales they tell
Can someone out there help them?
I read a letter I received
The writing I could not believe
I've seen better on my sleeve
Can someone out there read this?
GFN, GFAP
FAQ, ASAP
Explain what I just wrote to me
Can someone out there help....please?
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC