"harvard" poems
Love, the real kind, is never simple.
It is the one thing that makes life worth it in the end,
and something that wonderful and sought-after is never going to be easy to get.
You have to work for it.
Blood, sweat, and tears.
So if it’s easy, yeah maybe you won’t get broken.
But you won’t be truly happy, either.
You’ll be settling.
Don’t get me wrong,
There are lots of things in life that are totally acceptable to settle on.
Sure, Harvard was your dream school.
But you know what?
Going to your state school because its more affordable
Will still get you where you want to be in life.
And I know the hairdresser couldn't match the color you showed her,
But you are beautiful and can rock it anyway, so don’t worry.
But love?
Settling in love is like buying a pair of shoes that are a size too small,
Just because you thought they were pretty.
They may look nice,
But you are dying on the inside. I
f you had just held out a bit longer,
You would have found a pair just as beautiful that fit well, too.
Maybe that nice guy looks good on paper,
But if he doesn’t give you butterflies whenever he looks at you,
Don’t be with him.
You want someone who makes you fall for them every day,
Not just once.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
Young people can you feel the suffering?
roca wear, gucci, apple, facebook, mcdonalds, apple bee's,
honda, lamborghini, harvard, Community College
american express, pnc bank, walmart
Wage Slaves, ceos, owners, lenders, renters, indebtedness
Structural dehumanization, systematic mechanization
Exploited labor feeding blood to your hungering consumerism
Young people you are embracing MISANTHROPY!
Embracing the hate of your own humanity! Why the hypocrisy?
Wealthy children, poor children
Trying for enlightenment through education
Parents garnering wealth through the oppression of their victims
Parents garnering debt through the oppression from economic inequality
Still you invest and promote the only legitimization of your being: CAPITALIST UTILITY
Capitalism engineering unrelenting misanthropy
Vicious economic system discarding humanity
Perfecting the concentration and accumulation of wealth
With the expansion of human alienation and murderous competition
Prostituting your body to labor exploitation and consumerism
Where does your wealth end up?
multinational companies? financial corporations? military arms contractors?
Loyalty lies in their pockets, backstabbing everyday tactics
Killing you through the exploitation of your body
Because they know the birth of another proletariat or bourgeoisie can replace you
Entities, not human, how much have they bought you for so that you cannot see!!!
Beware of these misanthropic missionaries granting your body power and agency
When your body can no longer be plundered for profit you will taste tears and blood
Young people will you deliver your forefathers and fathers
From worshiping capitalist misanthropy?
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Once not long ago
In the vile state of Utah,
An evil wizard
Impregnated a feral cat with
Mormon seed.
In no time at all,
A litter was born
And all of them died
But one–
Mittens the Kitten.
Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement
Because the evil wizard filled his head
With the Mormon scriptures.
When Mittens would catch and **** a mouse,
The evil wizard would pet Mittens
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
In the evenings,
Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood.
Sometimes it would coagulate,
But Mittens loved his blood.
He lapped it up
With a a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad,
And since feline-humanoids were not accepted
At Harvard Business School,
The evil wizard taught Mittens
All that he knew.
Mittens soaked up the knowledge
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Some years went by and Mittens
Became a successful business owner.
He would lap up bowls of
Other people's business
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Fast forward to the present tense
(My personal favorite tense)
And Mittens is running for president.
He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies
So that naive voters might believe that
They should vote for this cat.
He smirks and he lies
With a vigor that is borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
A ball player and a thief
Will likely be pregnant by age 16.
Lives in the ghetto and is poor,
Often identified as a *****
Runs fast and does drugs,
Hangs around with gangsters and thugs.
Has a gun or a friend with one.
Speaks in slang, must be part of a gang.
Mess with her, she'll pull a Sharkeisha on you.
If you were to picture a person of any race,
That fits the description that just took place.
A baller and **** hmm... what race matches that?
Yeah you're right, that person is probably black.
Is fast, does drugs, and speaks with slang?
Lemme guess, is he also in a gang?
A young mother who is also poor?
Bet she doesn't know who the dad is, what a *****
All these negative stereotypes associated with being black.
Its disheartening, sicking and its really sad.
And whats sadder is that if you are the opposite of all of that,
You are often told that you're not really black.
Does your skin colour change for going to Harvard?
Will it change for speaking like an English scholar?
Because I play hockey and not ball, does that make me white?
So what if I'm the type of person to run away from a fight?
You don't have to be irresponsible and rude to be considered black.
It's your ethnic background that determines that.
And to some people, all we are is the complexion of our face.
Light, dark, somewhere in the middle, to some, the bad of a few defines
our whole race.
Does running away from a cop, and being black give someone grounds to shoot?
Why is it that my skin color is what is most important to you?
Is asking a question when getting arrested for no visible reason really resisting arrest?
Does struggling to break free from restraints to catch my breath, give someone a reason to grab on tighter to strangle me to death?
The actions of a few don't define the actions of a whole group.
And this assumption that all black are thugs, thieves and liars has done clear damage to,
Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and so many more.
They didn't know it, but just by being black, they put their lives at risk when they stepped out their door.
Don't you think it's gotten too far when we have to prove Black Lives Matter, or when we the saying of a movement is Hands Up, Don't Shoot.
Should people have to be reminded that blacks are real people and that our lives matter too?
We are athletes and musicians.
Lawyers and physicians.
The leader of a nation.
An anchorman of a news station.
We don't all fit into that mold that is preset for us.
You can and should expect great things of us.
Because we don't have to be a **** or a baller to be considered black.
We define what type of black person we are, we determine that.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
Lily Kesha Gump
Sittin' on the curb of Bronx and Main Street
How I wish I could wrap my arms around you
Sweet little lady, lookin’ grown with a picture of her mama’s stare frozen on her face
Wrists slung through the spaces of her thighs, waiting for a daydream
And she sees me as I’m twirling by in my ruby reds and thigh high leather grace
There you go darlin,
She says to me
Scoring on my indigo smile
She bites men to sleep
With the crevices of her curves
As her voice weakens wicked
she pulls me out of my gloom
There you go darlin,
She says to me
With a time bomb ticking
On my pain pain pain
And the pen is in my hand
Before she even leaves my sight
I love this city
I love these women
I love their shoes
I love their smiles
Cheeky little laughs
Someone once recommended
When I was dancing under the shades of a neon lamp
From Homeless to Harvard
by a woman named Liz or Marie
Or maybe I read the title off of a screen
when I walking with Maryanne on north Peachtree street
And I remember
Lily Kesha Gump
How I wish I could wrap my arms around you
And give you the life some white woman
who doesn’t even know you
Thinks you desire.
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 12:15 PM UTC
This morning we jogged early
I was back in my flat by six-thirty
From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin,
The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun.
The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped, which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship.
I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases.
Cramming things into boxes, giving things away.
I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me:
“The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?”
“Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay.
Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am.
I’m not afraid of discordant notes.
They change the landscape.
Take us to new emotional places.
Any major work is going to have them.
.
.
A song for this:
Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini
It's Amazing by Jem
Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 12:45 AM UTC
A month ago I sat in class
in a New England School for boys
Now, I'm in a bomber group
Adjusting to the noise
I made plans for Harvard
A doctor, I would be
Then my life would turn
In a way I didn't see
The war was on in Europe
We saw in the press
But, 18 days before Christmas
we were pulled into the mess
Future plans were put aside
Our country we'd support
We'd forget all of our future thoughts
We'd join, though not for sport
We signed up down in Boston
Young men flyers, soldiers all
Preparing for a battle
Many would not live till fall
We thought not of our future
Our present, all we had
Many dead by Christmas next
The thought is truly sad
You do not what you want to
But, what needs to be done
You go from boy to man so fast
You've barely walked...now run
Think back on those who made it
Remember who did not
Young men they are forever
They deserve a longer thought
The air is pure and holy
It is scattered with young souls
Boys, now men who went to war
And put aside their goals
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
You at least went.
so that meant the party could finally be awkward.
that's homeroom
at your personal Harvard
your low self esteem was the head dean
[ claimed you had promise ]
then promptly vomits
but you promised to maim
your lollipops with hot topic's
most goth night-shade of hemlock
iron-on, henna tattoos
for your thin lips.
like two gates
to a birdcage
where you keep
ravens...
pecking the tip of your tongue
where your brave words die
for lack of oxygen... pecking
the flesh off the skeleton key
to the heart of your insightful
comment,... stymied -
a black raven
savors the succulent eyes
of your hurricanes, so
braille maps for blind rage
fly off the shelves... fly like
led zeppelins to
fresh hell.
you lose your window seat
on the wing of a prayer
to Charles Bukowski.
now you're scowling a gilded smile
at all the Ed Hardlys'...
good thing you brought Jello Biafra Shots
to the shindig... cubes of gelatinous absinthe
each with a sugar box
lodged in supermax insecurity prisms...
fey emeralds.
monochrome rubicons
you pop
when cross.
like wainscoting the panic room
that came with a deejay
who thinks you're
a boy who got
lost.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:10 AM UTC
I was two years behind Art Garfunkel at Columbia College, but I never met him. Nonetheless, like millions of other people, I consider him to have the most beautiful singing voice of the 20th century. Art's singing of BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER is celestial.
I was two years ahead of George W. Bush at Andover, but I never met him. Nonetheless, too many people voted to make him President of the United States twice. W. was not very smart. He did not do well academically at Andover and Yale and Harvard Business School. But his father, George H. W. Bush, had gone to both Andover and Yale, and later became head of the CIA, then Vice President, then President. Legacy was powerful in the 1960s, and still is.
I wish I could meet Art Garfunkel and thank him for the enormous pleasure he has given to millions of people. I would never wish to meet W.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 10:37 PM UTC
Back in my rebel days (yester)
I sported a spelunking bumper sticker
On my 1972 VW pop-up camper van
That read Free Floyd Collins
Totally apolitical well intentioned humor
Concerning one of my pasttimes that surprisingly
Never maimed or killed me
Whilst reporting for an official call for jury duty
The uptight and obviously a **** (did I just say that?)
Prosecutor enquired during jury selection
As to whether any of us prospectives
Had bumper stickers and if so
What they might say
The NRA sticker guy next to me
And the I'd Rather Be Fishin' and NASCAR
Sticker guy next to him
Passed with smugly flying colors
(red needless to say)
While the 72 year old nun
With the Amnesty International sticker
Didn't fair so well
And was promptly burned at the stake
(I kid you)
Needless to say
The long-haired Harvard educated
Native American
With the Doctors Without Borders
And the Remember Wounded Knee
With a not so discreet AIM sticker thrown in to boot
Also got the boot
Pondering the merits of the court stenographer's
Shapely fingers while judiciously confidently awaiting my turn
It never ocurred to me that Mr. Collins might be
So wrongly accused as to have me
Rejected and summarily ejected
From jury duty
A travesty of justice
I say
If for no other reason than I was so looking forward to
Sticking it to the Man
You can imagine my surprise and disappointment
As I wandered down to the Shamrock
To catch Terry O'Leary do a slam
And raise a glass to
Bobby Sands
r~ 22Feb14
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
*it's not exactly Walt Whitman's o captain my captain in reference to Abraham Lincoln.*
to społeczeństwo jest gnój...
to społeczeństwo jest... szambo,
daj mi kandydata na prezydenta
z koła Navajo! dawaj kurwa!
bo tego nigra nie zdołam przetrawić
w ramach jego Nobla!
pierdolona kukła białasów!
o tak panie prezydencie, no tak
panie prezydencie... dziecko chcem
wysłać na Harvard... może pan pomoże
z wojęnką na bliskim wschodzie?
pięknie panie prezydencie,
dziękujemy za zbieranie włókna larw ciem.
ah panie prezydencie, jaka piękna sciema!
jaka piękna mgła! ah tak panie
prezydencie... kultura nie była asz tak
zgodnie zparowana z siłą! hip hop hooray
nad top z pana wagarami władzy
chodem po cmentarzu!
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
Uncle Sam sometimes whispers a little bit too close.
I’ve felt so many scraps scraping against my cheek-
those numerous numberless things he carries in his
beard by ‘accident’. So many things get stuck there
and I feel them all, whenever he dares, and he dares
often, to whisper alittlebittooclose. One time the grey
beard leaned in and touched me in my sleep and
planted in me strange dreams of faraway gothic towers
passing off as libraries: Harvard dreams, Princeton
dreams, Yale dreams: I haven’t quite slept since. The
shaggy scraps stuck to the forest of strands on his face
would never let me. They scratch away at me often
even in the brightness of day, and claw jaggedly in the
darkness of night. Little heart of mine has lost its own
beat. It beats to the beat of a beat on a beat from a beat
with a beat by a beat which beats those beats and beats
beats that beat not of my beat. Little heart of mine, when
did you lose your own pulse? Why won’t you tell your family
that Uncle Sam’s whispers are more than whispers? Why
won’t you tell your family what Uncle Sam does to you
in the brightness of day when everyone is smiling as Uncle
Sam pats your shoulder? Little heart of mine, why doesn’t
your family know what Uncle Sam does in the darkness
of night as he whispers whispers under your whispers and
what he does beneath your skin? Didn’t you know, little heart?
They have laws that say that greybeards shouldn’t be digging
into little boys’ insides, don’t they.
(Uncle Sam has travelled
far and wide, far and wide to tell me lies.
Recall that this is not the first time…)
But little heart you know why. This is not the first time.
It is the natural progression for a Coconut like you:
darkness of night on outside and brightness of day on inside.
Your skin doesn’t matter; you all taste the same.
Cut you off the homeland-tree and cart you all away.
Then, in this way we can say and say the homeland is “Rising”-
Uncle Sam tells the world of his diversity in selection
of little boys to touch with strange dreams.
And I like the feel of the scraps in his beard. Maybe
I can become one of them. One with them.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
I wonder if they're happy.
They sure do seem so.
They're always talking about stealing their daddy's Jaguars and having beer blasts and getting in to fights and being bros and getting tan and buying new swimsuits and getting a call from different modeling agencies and crashing cars and smoking cigarillos and drinking fancy wine and going to their beach house and deciding between Harvard and Yale or Porsche and Mustang and did we win the football game and making new friends and oh my God Stacy actually said that and dude, I totally ****** her and my math teacher is such a ***** and my parents are putting me into boarding school and check out my new Jordans and did you watch the sunset last night?
I don't know if they're having fun, but it sure seems like it.
*I wonder if they're having fun. It sure seems like it.
They're always talking about hitch hiking to the next city over and going to shows and drinking PBR and sneaking out at night and yeah dude, that party was sick and my tumblr is so famous right now and check out my new denim jacket and smoking **** and getting in to fights and lifting cigarettes from stores and Austin and Katie slept together and Kyle broke edge and I'm still working at McDonalds and yeah I'm still driving my '93 Ford Ranger and smoking hookah and watching Mean Girls and yeah I love the ocean and check out my new Kicks and did you watch the sunset last night?
I don't know if they're having fun, but it sure seems like it.*
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:22 PM UTC
#1. What in the world
possessed you
to do that!?@#$%^
My god . . . that was so stupid and careless!
#2. Why? . . .
I trusted my intuition.
My heart believed,
emotional logic compelled me.
Fluid, spontaneous from the gut.
#1. You’re crazy.
I would never
put myself at risk like that.
#2. What risk?
Getting harrassed
by the mind police?
They don't own me.
#1. But they punished you.
#2. No, just a little
desperate flaggelation.
#2. But look at yourself
all boxed up,
stigmatized and branded.
#1. You mean the labels?
Those words they use
to define me?
#2. Yes, you’re a bad person.
#1. No, I’m not.
#2. Yes, you are.
... and they argued til dawn
neither knowing
nature does not declare winners
but admires innovation....
like when Magellan sailed off no edges
when Einstein confounded everyone by sailing in his head
when the Wright Brothers lifted off
when Tesla moved electrons
when Christ embraced the centurions
when Gautama just sat down
when the librarian refused to take Catcher in the Rye off the shelf
when Lenny Bruce swore on stage
when Leary and Alpert left Harvard
when Joan of Arc refused to recant
when Gandhi and friends burned their English wool
when Jung declared a spiritual psyche
when the UFC earned a huge Neilsen
so be your own guru
take kava kava instead of Prozac
barter with your hair stylist
and when someone says
you are wrong
ask them why
there are no dinosaurs
in the Bible.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
Look at him and go out on a limb,
Or am I suppose to use a three by five?
Slop on the mascara,
Know the difference between "por" and "para".
Go to this school, so they can feel secure;
Be clean, be pure.
Starve- you can't be fat.
Fail because you didn't follow format.
"I don't care how well you draw,
Just go to Harvard and study law."
They'll lay out your life step-by-step,
And yes, you will be every teachers' pet.
I don't care what you do;
Be cut-throat, be cruel,
Anything to be:
This cookie cutter you made for me.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
I already have certain years
that constitute my life
CT, MA to NY
All the tiny things I did
Shape me into this version of me
Writing on a laptop at night
Yes, I feel like
I have seen enough things
Done a lot, good at being broken- hearted
Maybe could've broken more hearts.
Truth is, probably not.
I learn to accept fate as they come
Yes, sometimes I try to veer it towards the way I want
But life is never about
Achieving what you want
Rather, use the things you got
And turn it into everlasting , mesmerizing
Splendid sparks.
Am I cheesy being only 26?
Or you're sneering at me,
Ha you're not that young?
I look up for a sign and an inspirational quote
To only see myself in the mirror smiling back
and the past ghosts at the end of the tunnel
He said he does not want a relationship
I said I don't want my future baby to have ugly teeth
He said he will marry me for a million
But I said I don't want our baby to go to Harvard
He said, ***** Harvard!What about Princeton?
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
ah, didn't you know..
powerful imagery better weaves itself
through a simplistic tale of truth
rather than in some poem boasting
grandiosity
you know, full of Harvard-taught words
and, quite honestly, empty
meanings
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 12:57 AM UTC
Ok, there’s no jailbreak.
Make room for my innocent alter ego,
because there’s nothing to rebel against.
There are zero classes in my nascent,
year-long, Harvard master’s degree.
They call it ‘self directed study’
and like rockets have stages,
I’ll have ‘self paced modules.’
Am I suddenly at Oxford University?
They’re quite famous for that (no formal classes).
Or am I suddenly grown up and trusted?
I obviously don’t have it all figured out yet,
so I’ll just trust the process.
When I started that other school
(that shall not be named), my advisor
handed me a computer printout - a list
with something like 40 courses on it.
I thought, “Oh, my God,” but one by one,
year over year, I checked-off those courses
and voila! They handed me a diploma.
It was a process.
I understand, if you’re disappointed about the jailbreak, but there’ll
be coffee breaks, lunch breaks, study breaks, bathroom breaks
and more than a few self-directed dance breaks. So stick around.
“You know,” my therapist said, so very seriously, a few years ago,
“you keep laughing.”
.
.
I've Got the World on a String by Robin McKelle
****** Soul Picnic by Ledisi & Billy Childs
May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 10:47 PM UTC
never a need to say yes or no
just say not now instead
to avoid any decision
apply infinite revision
then crawl on back to bed
the words stick to and fro
following where they’re led
when a Harvard debater
says “I’ll catch ya’ later”
they really mean go drop dead
declarations come and go
everyday is condition red
I have not a clue
if what you say is true
your rhetoric is overfed
intellect is friend or foe
trapped deep in your head
words are often mis-used
context cannot be refused
if you believe you believe what was said
Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
I got to where I am today
Without the aide of
Book-smarts
And being a nerd.
I beat up nerds,
Steal their girlfriends
And drive them to
My parent's summer house
In the Hamptons!
No, I don't need
Book-smarts
To graduate from
Harvard.
My tuition was prepaid
And business comes as natural to me
As does stealing your girlfriend!
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
I'm a free thinker
I make my own observations
That one friend of yours
Is not a free thinker
In fact I don't know if she thinks
Some of the smart people
They're the most closed minded
They read a lot and take in a lot, they become *** Laude+
But they believe things like the WBC
Believes what they believe
See, some of the dumber people
Like the Steve Wozniaks
Like the Bill Gates of this world
Those free thinkers that were really the smartest
But didn't like society's games
They are the real success stories.
But we're taught that the only success you can get
Is going to Harvard with a 4.0
In a field where the pay is good and jobs are hot
But a field in which where you went to college doesn't mean crap,
Because they're not looking for bookworms but looking for free thinkers
That friend of yours
She's been through pain
So she knows the pain
So she can relate
But that might be where it stops
That friend of yours
She'll have your back and she cares
But she's a little bitter
I mean, pretty bitter sometimes
I think you know this already
She told her cousin once
She found that talking helps
When there's a misunderstanding
That she wished people would talk
And work it all out
But she doesn't do that at all
She shuts people off
She shuts people out
Just like when she got annoyed
When you got less into her
You see
People who hold grudges
Who shut people out
They live a world of suffering
They live the saying "Nice guys finish last"
But they make it that way
Those people are the reason that saying exists
They say that those who don't learn
From history are doomed to repeat it
Let me just say she's one of those people
You're turning into one too,
Losing the free thinker inside of you
When you think you're making her
For the first time
I wish you'd listen
And not let your emotions overwhelm you but use the logic in your brain
Because your emotions are clouding your thinking
They're clouding your thoughts
They're clouding what you think you know about me, I think
Because you're doing that thing your friend does where you stop listening
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
This is a story of a peculiar fellow
Known to get rowdy but often mellow
He graduated, top of his class!
Harvard law, was the school he passed
Didn’t work hard, kind of a slacker
But, he had the look, whiter than a *******
Quickly started his own practice, as the story goes
With plenty of clients, that nobody knows
He began, quit good-hearted
Champion of the poor! As he started
But, that all changed so quick
The poor can’t pay; it finally clicked
So he went for clients, whose pockets were much louder
And often times, noses filled with white powder
He now worked less, and golfed a lot more
Representing the banks that originally off he swore
But, this is just as much of a story, of dear old poor Louie
Who never had fortune, misunderstood and gloomy
When one day, he caught a big break
The bank had made a terrible mistake
Their negligence, was due to pay millions
Especially to Louie, along with other civilians
So Louie hired the best attorney in town
A peculiar fellow, he made no sound
So the trial went on, and the judge presided
At the end of the day, the jury still was divided
Because the lawyer, got an offer he couldn’t resist
The banks gave him more money, so the trial he dismissed
Dear old poor Louie, again was left with nothing
No turkey for thanksgiving, not even the stuffing
He turned to the lawyer and let out a great yell
“You haven’t helped me the slightest” he tells
But, the world’s not always fair people often get cheated
Defeated and mistreated, depleted than deleted
The lawyers might help, but not much
Blinded by money, they often loose touch
So the lawyer turned and responded to dear old poor Louie
“What are you going to do? Sue me?”
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC
The man decked in blue
sits quite content
on a sofa
and observes wealthy offspring
waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth
glossed with potent peppermint.
These teens
don't know love,
lust is all it is.
While the Jazz bops away,
more whisky is poured
and they zip out to get jammy.
The man, mid-twenties,
kind of blue, dapper apparel,
has one on the rocks.
Sees them
walk in most evenings,
cute blondes with flawless skin,
guys in suits, bow ties, the works,
gaze into each other's pupils.
There are regulars,
Robert, the chap from Yale,
Quentin, sly guy at Harvard
and Carly, still at school the man believes,
who's coquettish, fresh,
these two want to have her
but she's astute,
knows just what she wants.
They're all after her in fact.
Every male in the room
turns their head,
can't blame them,
she's like Candyfloss,
all the men want a taste
but there's not enough for everyone
and they don't look like the sharing kind.
The man in blue
just grins to himself
thinking how grand it is
that he's single, sensible, secure.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC