"classed" poems
They said there was a drought water was short
not enough for domestic use.
At first declaring it was nobody's fault
it had not rained for a long time!
Committing an offence by using a hose pipe
truthfully was a load of tripe.
Water companies are making a financial killing
everyone encouraged not to waste water.
More fancy gadgets the public would be willing
to buy water use multiplied.
As the buzz was building more on any land
telling us there was a demand!
Thousands of houses built was there a big need
statistics only the government held.
Groups tried protesting for it not to proceed
but fields were still built on.
Heavy rains came with more depleted drainage
so did the despair and rage.
A state of increasing taxes with nothing to show
more became classed as poor.
Communication with voters becoming very slow
the authorities had a strangle hold!
As the ban on a non existent drought dragged on
more doubters joined the throng!
Was there a danger of a growing national threat
from people against the elite.
Basking in luxury as the masses increasing in debt
the drought added more fuel.
Restrictions taking away their dignity it turned sour
there would be a defining hour.
Or is this just a modern nightmare tale?
The Foureyed Poet.
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
The birthday song is not a song it's not even a small ditty
As it is only four lines long it's really rather ******
There isn't a good chorus so isn't that a pity
A catchy tune it has not got and the lyrics are not witty
This song's lyrics are so short and there all the ****** same
Apart from the 3rd line down when you substitute a name
Okay you say "Dear" instead of "To", but its still a basic frame
So this is not a song at all so why has it got the fame
It's no wonder people alter the words with monkeys in the zoo
And looking like these critters and smelling like them too
Or changed to bread and butter in the gutter or squashed tomatoes and stew
Because the song is so boring so what else can you do
Who the hell wrote this song was it someone who's autistic
Come on now lets be frank and a bit more realistic
If I where to write this song producers would go ballistic
I'd get thrown out of the biz and become a lost statistic
Just because it's your birthday I'm not singing about happy
People are compelled to sing when really its just ******
It's not the best song in the world I don't want to sound so snappy
The birthday song is full of crap just like a soiled *****
It's like we are pre programmed even Marilyn Monroe
To sing the ****** birthday song just for ****** show
But honestly this song is crap and it can surely go
And we can stop with the pretence and cease going with the flow
When your birthday does arrive and your expecting a big day
The time will come when you know your ears are going to pay
Cos someone's bound to start it with or without your say
Why does it have to be sung does it have to be this way
Singing the birthday song should not be a life compulsion
Don't succumb to the trend and quash your minds impulsion
Stamp down on the process and enforce a song expulsion
Do away with this song and all of its revulsion
The birthday song is not a song when it's sixteen words long
Half of them are happy birthday that doesn't constitute a song
The wording is so ****** thin as thin as a snapped thong
And the musical arrangement isn't even strong
People should not sing this song not even a small bit
Why is it classed as a song we should stop singing it
Most of the words are the same and there is a lack of wit
So don't sing the birthday song cos it's not a song it's ****
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
A little birdy told me, hearts and souls are mouldy,
Walk with me, talk with me on this journey of doubt,
You'll question people and you'll question the drought,
of honesty people lie about, because It's time to scout,
For people of kindness on earth,
From birth, I think I've been cursed
It gets worse, as I rap this verse,
I'm trying to explain how life can be complicated,
Because we're all intoxicated, muffled in fumes of disease and fleas that cling onto your skin,
Use the energy within, and repel them this is where your journey will begin,
I've been searching for a moment or a pin, point in time,
When these rhymes and lines will be classed as devine, as I perfect and refine,
I'm just wondering how many times I can assign the same rhyme, so all sit back with a glass of wine, whilst I intertwine every line, lyrics so evil I'm committing a crime, maybe I'll get a statue, maybe a shrine, I need to switch it up so let's all decline, but you'll remember this verse as one of a kind.
Whilst I'm standing still over this hill, I think of moments in life that gave me a thrill,
But I remembered the pain and I remember the chill,
Of the cold dampened hearts that never seemed to spill,
Love or affection, like it's protection they need during the question, should I mention, you never gave me attention,
Like the worlds in one convention and I'm stood outside looking in,
I grin, whilst I use these forces buried within, to show people in verse what I mean, before the planet isn't green, before the seas collapse and wind is no longer a breeze,
We freeze in an ice block, tick Tock, tick Tock we stopped the clock.
But no body hears me so everyone listen up,
Stop what you're doing and please raise a cup,
For stopping global warming and extinction of animals, because we're all valuables on this tiny spec of galaxies,
Yet governments plan strategies, to profit from the tragedies, they keep us all living in fantasies, but strike in catastrophes
So let's help our families and all become one, before we've got none and everything we love and everything we feel is gone,
Putting a bet on the apocalypse, odds are 10 to none,
So hold hands with me now let's rejoice in song!
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 3:51 AM UTC
perfunctory actions
zombie habits
sheep normalcy
blindly following the cud chewers
lemmings fall to their deaths
slowly
genetically engineered crops
dusted with pharmaceutical poison
laced with irradiated petroleum pesticides
fed to the babies of the poor –
wealthy voyeurs eagerly tune-in
as the impoverished masses rot
for viewing pleasure
leisurely strolling across manicured lawns
those in power scoff at the growing spectacle
unaware that the cake is stale
and the masses smell blood –
hurriedly, accountants shuffle tax rates
mix those with interest credit
season it with mortgage fees
and serve it on wall street
place mats
taking stock of stock market gains
gamblers do double gainers off high rises
adding to the flesh being consumed by the under class
under classed –
underclassmen, underpaid, stretch under ware elastic
as waistlines expand with the debt ceiling
both symbolizing the slow decline of
the American dream
screaming into the sewer
fewer eyes look back as disease dulls the iris
loss of the inner shine
glowing reflection of living organisms
fading as the day
slips into the blue-black –
night falls on a nation of imbeciles
brain dead patients
broken by depression and weight-loss scams
hearts crying out for care
personal and compassionate
instead are met with sterile robotics
and sanitary “C” students dressed in white
fearful of lawsuits
and spiders
they prescribe to symptoms
without knowing insurance number 87319A23-S1
is a human being, just like them
also living in fear
of the same establishment –
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
A High Classed girl
Your funny and loud
Your kind and gentle
But you can **** **** up
When you need to!
You're my Moirail
My other half
My Best Friend
I couldn't live without you
Teal and Violet
Go so well together
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
If i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
How stand thee tall, judgemental,now? How dost thou choose thy bread?
When all around thee, finger pointers, leer and shake their head.
Have you found a sphere of comfort here, whilst perched upon thy throne?
Has it ever really bothered you, that esconced, you're quite alone?
You live with dire restrictions, imposed so harshly by the Court
And as socially, classed an isolate, it affects you more than ought.
Though recompensed so generously you feel the pressure bound
Because each and every day your judgement rendered, must be sound.
Each utterance decreed by you must hold good Law intoned
Or the Brotherhood Knights Templar shall see you thoroughly dethroned.
A Pillar of Society, though one who stands forlorn
Is the Judge who'se daily client's words are negatively sworn.
The Judge who waits expectantly for that ray of light to shine
But is constantly bombarded by the tarnished shade of crime.
The loneliness is tangible and corrosive wear extreme
For the man who sits in judgement and who'se wisdom must be seen.
Marshalg
Pukehana
13 January 2014
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 5:31 AM UTC
Many houses have been cleaned on ***** window routes
Terraced rows and bungelows and other glass recruits
Customers of differant types some casual, some suits
Pleasent ones and lovely ones, some of them fun hoots
One window shined, revealed behind someones bathroom door
An awful sight giving us a fright, more than we bargained for
We went to clean it was abscene, that horrible thing we saw
Showing his snake was it a mistake, or was he just a *****
Every time we went to clean situations would get worse
We didn't want to catch a glimps, of his ****** immerse
A naked burden it bacame, why was he so perverse
***** windows should remain to conceal that bathroom curse
The anxiousness we both felt, how low he always sank
Unwanted sightings of body flesh and yanking on his plank
Disgusting ways of a deprived mind, so very dark and dank
***** windows are one thing, but not when you ******* ****
We did not want to ascend, with each ladder run to climb
knowing what awaited us we didn't want to see his slime
That bathroom window was regular, he did it every time
His kind of antics should be re-classed as a life of grime
We're not interested in plonker pulling a real discusting stunt
Nakedness we don't want to see, or a nasty shiveled front
Your ***** windows are to much so we will both be blunt
Keep your wanking to yourself and **** off your ***** ****
We don't care how many times, or how much you try
There is no necessitation to see your small **** eye
Confess your sins and tell your wife and don't you effing lie
That you've been bathroom wanking and flashing your cream pie
We told him we're not cleaning, when he dosent wear a stitch
And because he had to ******* **** and treat us like his *****
We're not your pleasure ****** when you've got that certain itch
Your ***** windows we wont clean when your mind is in a ditch
It's time us girls said goodbye you've made us ******* cross
Window cleaners we may be but your not our wanking boss
So now we're gone and you know why, my friend it's adios
And all because you had to flash and have a bathroom toss
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 6:27 AM UTC
For many years ive wanted.. a live so rich for me
it all went round the table that cash would be the cream
yet ..as ive grown much older i now know what i know
that im the richest of them all and this is how it goes
I looked around my fellow drivers all in their fancy cars
and thought....i have one like that ..
its battered..old and falls apart
yet whilst they're busy working im nowhere to be found
cause im home with family thats what its all about
fancy jeans ...i have a pair no label ...but do i really care
but.. they do the job of many ...strange as it may sound
yes my shoes look messy... no Jimmy choos they aint
but im home for tea each night to hug my son ..im proud
I may not be a millionaire in eyes of bankers wifes
yet i have .. much much more that money cannot buy
see wealth is classed by how your missed and not the car you drive
shame that some dont see that... as life just passed them bye
Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 1:40 AM UTC
I think that we should analyse
their tax affairs
disturb and sift the little truth
from all the lies and then
we'll see
just how they've cheated
you and me.
But would you bother?
ask yourself, or
leave the ledgers on the shelf
to gather dust?
Dodgy dealing?
what they do is classed as stealing
ripping off the system
claiming while they're unemployed
but they're working and
that gets me annoyed.
I pay my tax
I pay my dues
why think that I'll be quiet if they continue to abuse the welfare state?
The outcome?
Well we wait to see
what's in the store
of apathy.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 3:12 AM UTC
The many city blocks once quiet and safe
normally busy with the locals.
Classed as a multi cultural communities
no longer has the same feel.!
Spontaneous trouble erupted on the streets
organised with thousand of tweets.
After dark the mayhem was orchestrated
and expanding into a war zone.
Police were unable to regain control
as the gangs had a free hand!
Businesses, homes were robbed and looted
the air with smoke polluted.
Gangs roaming in violent mischievous packs
no fear of police respect was gone.
A new era had dawned upon the English public
unprecedented violation on the nation.
Incredibly lost lives and injuries were not more
as people's worlds lay on the floor.
To long a delay in the politicians reaction
why no action taken before?
Before the young made a mockery of the law
reinventing mob rule!
Is it true our leaders are not really effected
and are no longer respected?
Without the confidence and trust of the public
the simmering tension will rise!
When the criminals and anarchist begin to win
what hope for a once proud nation?
With no strong government or trusted protection
there could be complete disconnection!
What will happen next and where? Be careful out there!
As into the day the violence would not go away!
Is the war really here?
The Foureyed Poet.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 6:09 PM UTC
A milk and two sugars
Coffee in a cup
Add the water
Inhale some steam
A hit of caffeine
To start the day
It keeps me awake
So I can play
A cold frosty morning
I require some warmth
The kettle is boiling
It's time for a cuppa
Joes in demand
He lives in a ***
Classed as my best friend
He's all that I've got
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 10:22 AM UTC
boy or girl
that’s what defines
tells you which
of the bathroom lines
ladies first
men are last
why is this
how we’re classed
does it matter
I think not
must be the mad hatter
for my crazy thoughts
can’t we all
just be the same
must we play
the gender game
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
Not poetry, just reminiscing
When I came out of the army in 1985 after serving for 24 years I settled in the county of Suffolk where my first wife came from
Suffolk with old fashioned ideas and old fashioned views. In fact unless you had been resident for at least 20 years some of the villagers still classed you as an outsider.
Anyway I decided to get an allotment (not sure what you call them in the U S) so that I could grow my own vegetables.
Just across from me was the plot rented by Allen, 70 going on a hundred years old. I never did find out. Anyway it was early spring and I stood there scratching my head when Allen wandered over
" What's up boy" he said
I explained that I was new to the area and new to growing vegetables and wasn't to sure about when to start getting seed into the ground
He looked at me with those timeless eyes and said
"Sit bare arsed on the ground boy and if your **** still ain't cold after 10 minutes then that'll be the time to sow"
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
If i could,
I would,
Carefully take you apart,
And put you back together,
Piece, by fragile piece,
And i would not cease,
Until the job was done.
Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes,
Until the cries that had chained you down,
Had been removed from the ground.
And if i could, i would,
Take my tools
And attentively drill out
Your insecurities,
All those flaws, you believe to be
Impurities
And ***** in self acceptance so tight,
So that never again at night,
Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself,
As you sparkle in the moonlight.
And if i could, i would,
Clamp together,
Your hopes and dreams,
Your self belief,
And tie them together at the seams
With double knots,
So that you never forgot, how
Capable you are.
I'd take each glittering star,
and plant them in the pupils of your eyes,
So that each time you cry
You'd be reminded of the beauty inside,
Of you.
And if i could, i would,
Paint over your frame work,
And tentatively cover up those scars,
So you'd never again see the hurt,
And never doubt
Just how perfectly imperfect you are.
And if i could, i would,
Saw away your sorrows
So when you thought of your tomorrows,
You weren't filled with dread,
You were filled with joy and hope
And optimism instead,
So that before you went to bed,
You were not filled with self defeating thoughts,
Ruminating inside, that pretty little head.
And if i could, i would,
Weld securely into place,
A genuinely happy smile,
Across your dainty face,
And a hand in yours,
So you'd never have to brace
Anything alone.
And if i could, i would,
Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes
And rewire them back together again,
With a spanner, in the manner,
That meant you were not
Classed as insane.
I'd unfold and rearrange,
The chemical imbalances
Within your brain
So that the years of disdain,
And self blame,
Where a thing of the past,
I'd put you back together,
In a way, that showed you,
You were meant to last.
And if i could, i would,
Attach wings to your spine,
So there'd never be a time,
That you'd stumble and fall
You'd stand tall,
You'd rise above it all.
And if i could, i would,
Take the lonely shadows of your heart,
Rip them apart
And blaze them,
In a light so bright
It'd never die out,
You would never again doubt
All that you are,
And all that you can be.
And if i could, i would,
I'd set you free.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
Love Story
This is a love story of a different sort,
he was a ****** she was an escort.
He had the night off and feeling lonely,
eating his cheese, crackers and pepperoni.
Called a girl he once knew,
she is an escort, and making her debut.
She was there in an hour,
she was fat and he had no flour.
She told him fifty bucks, and I'm all yours,
she barely fit through any of his doors.
He said, I never knew you were a **********
she said, I didn't come here for you to prosecute.
No, no he said that's not it,
I miss hanging out, I must admit.
They talked all night, and she charged no money,
life is strange and even sometimes funny.
They both quit their illegal jobs,
every night they would make love like Gods.
After a week they got hitched,
it was like together, they got stitched.
She found a job at a bank,
he started driving an oil tank.
She exercised and lost some weight,
he said, **** baby you look great.
They lived a happy middle classed life,
but very happy as husband and wife.
They had a baby, then another,
he was a good dad, and her a good mother.
They were living happily ever after,
till he died falling off a very high rafter.
Turned their lives into shreds,
no more stitches, broken was the threads.
After a while they moved on,
finally the numbness was all gone.
She hooked up with a new man,
kids chopped him up and stuck him in a can.
They didn't want a new daddy,
mommy got depressed and again became a fatty.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 5:42 PM UTC
I was never all there!
I heard that so often.
He isn't listening, I couldn't hear you with all the noise.
I once heard a teacher describe me, He has an intermittent short circuit.
Thirty years ago I was just classed as uninterested or lazy or simply thick!
Sometimes it threw me back to reset.
I was lost and confused, you hugged me I lashed out.
I remember building a space station at School when others saw a freak.
Sometimes I would just jump to a different program, you call it ADHD now.
It was self defence.
But sometimes on special days it threw me into the future.
People spoke like I was in another time or another universe.
But none of you could see them.
I often asked them "Hello, who am I?"
They just smiled.
I don't know if I'm better or worse or understand more.
I no longer ask.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
I was sunshine
At the top of mountains
Out classed diamonds
I was the stars in your night sky
I was the only one in your eyes
But I shot you down
Killed you with my lies
I was dressed as beauty
Evil in disguise
A clone of what you thought was perfect
Every angle you thought you knew
Now a stranger
It was you and me,
And eternity
Now it's just you
Without me
Your stronger without me
You can out do the sea
Your like an unexplored galaxy
Just remember the good times
And dont forget me
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
Like a discarded folly it stands abandoned
a building for the people.
Yet now it's been neglected by the council
there in that prominent position.
Time and weather has not been a friend
as many wish for it's end!
The council did not want the listed building
letting it become a wreck.
Repairing and upgrading others around
urgent repairs had to be done.
The owners who bought it for a pound
just couldn't be found!
Boarded up and classed as still unsafe
even with a grade two listing.
Yet it totters on the edge of its destruction
oppressive when you stare.
The building for years has not been used
watching it being abused!
Discarded this was the communities centre
that should be preserved.
Give that splendour back to this town's core
a focal point create a roar!
The Foureyed Poet.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
My own apathy terrifies me.
How much do I care?
Not enough.
How much do I care?
Not enough.
How much do I care?
Not enough.
And the worst part is
That measurement isn't borrowed
It comes from my own jug but when I wasn't looking
Someone poured out all the motivation and compassion.
I had a dream my mother was dying
I woke up with overflowing eyes
Not because I was sad
But because in the dream I didn't care and I knew I was supposed to.
I broke my brother's arm by launching him into the air and
Forgetting that he had only his own
Fragile body to land on top of no that's a lie
I didn't forget but I though he broke his neck
And when the siren started blaring
I knew that wasn't it and
I didn't feel so sad anymore.
Don't get the wrong idea
I'm not a completely cold-hearted *****
This I know because I cry watching Anastasia
Every
*******
Time
I donate to charity
And don't let them give me the sticker to prove it
I love small children and animals! That's a lie
I've had to clean up ***** from both of those groups.
And I've never made myself throw up but sometimes
I forget to eat that's a lie
I just can't be bothered
Am I lethargic because that's typical of a teenager
Or am I
Only classed as typical teenager because I'm lethargic?
I lie on my bed as still as a corpse
And never once
Think about death because
Why does it matter?
That's the only question
He doesn't have an answer to
Because I swear
This boy is the second coming of
Socrates
He makes me think of
Shakespeare
And knowing i'm going to see him the next day is like waiting for
Santa Claus.
My own empathy terrifies me.
How much do I care?
Too much.
How much do I care?
Too much.
How much do I care?
Too much.
And the worst part is
The possibility
That he might care about me too.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC