"indebt" poems
Weaknesses
My weakness is sweets, but don’t get it twisted, no food is found to weaken me. But a sweet personality can, so can a sweet smile, or a sweet touch. Basically sweet people are like sweet candies of different cultures, and I shall be a proud cultural culinary taste-tester, moving races like NASCAR in motion.
My weakness is money. The all mighty dollar isn’t so almighty to me, but what it can do is. I long for the materialistics of life that money can bring, and the attention it can get you from supermodel brides or low-key bed warmers. I like the feeling of being wanted and tolerated regardless of what I’d do and how I’d do it.
My weakness is power, for, if I held the power of a man’s life and spared him, he’d be loyal indefinitely, and that would be enough to satisfy my needs to feel loved. I’d have a friend who felt indebt to me, and that feeling of needing to accommodate would change my view on what was real and what wasn’t.
My weakness is attire, for you see, when I walk into a room, I want to draw the eyes of those watching, hateration rising in their veins and jealousy shown on there face. I want the Black haired beauty with the short red skirt and open-toed stilettoes with the dark purple toe nails and thick hips to come my way and think lustfully of me, is it a crime to desire such reactions?
My weakness is body, for I love a girl who can take care of herself. Long hair, manicured nails, teeth that aren’t begging to be drilled, it’s a weakness I have and can’t seem to fix. But then again, why would I desire to fix it? I’m not asking for perfect like a conceited rejectionist, or wanting more than what I can give like I was lying to myself, I want someone who can keep up with themselves before even attempting to keep up with someone else.
My weakness is *** appeal, because whenever she bites her lip and looks in my eyes, I can see rockets shooting through her glass lenses and aiming at me. But once I smile back, determined face, cute features and as much appeal as I can muster, explosions happen in her body that causes goosebumps to pepper her flesh like shrapnel in a war-zone.
My weakness is skin to skin, after all, it’s my right to want to be loved, why not demonstrate it by holding hands? Why not live past the edge and on the tip of existence like birds on a powerline? I am careful enough and she’d be loving enough that no vibes of failing would even cross our way.
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
She didn't know much
She ****** hated the long line
She just didn't know.
She was simply the First.
Wrapped in my tiny little heart.
Grabbed she her sorrow and left.
Its so sad I wasn't the best
At least she had my bigger cut.
Now she left my heart indebt
Broke and wound.
She hated this queue,
Now am left soul dripping,
And solo abiding.
no goodbyes.
A memory lingers.
and the rings for our fingers.
Divorce and remorse.
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC
No body knows me
let the grey be all
they see.
Let only I
and the owl alone
catch that scent
of death in the air.
From across the
blazing asphalt
I watch children
chase balloons
across manicured lawns.
I stand like a
ghost and will the
balloons to float
just out of
reach of a
double braided
little girl.
As the wind catches
the childrens losses
the faintest
of smiles
flashes across
my face.
As I look
up and catch
4 more losses
that have now
been forever
taken by
the winds
of my memory.
A message I
send to one of
my only friends.
Let it reach
him or her
before I change
my mind again.
I've opened up
and presented to
them nothing.
No body knows
me,
let the poppies
blood cleanse me.
The pain I produce
is not infectious.
It's private,
it slowly tortures me.
Like the stammer
and those
years,
it destroys me.
I count four colors
forever taken
by the wind.
And 3 children
who's
teary eyes
and scornful
stares are now
fixed on me.
I look to
the heavens and
smile toward their
loss.
Let those floating
colors be their
only hurt.
Let them never
know my smile,
Shield them
from the
Dragon.
I'm numb enough,
I can take it,
Let them be
and lay all that you
got right here.
Right over here.
Right all over
me.
Lay it on me,
your payments
I've recieved
before.
And yet somehow
I find myself still
indebt to you.
Let them grow
old and wonder.
Let them wonder
before
they began to
forget.
Let them join all
the rest.
Let them
become
enemies
of my sorrow.
Let them quietly
fall into their
existence.
Let them Be.
You've already
taken all that
was left
of me.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
In bringing to light
The darkness that surrounds us,
I understood more about you.
In the things that you do for me and
The way that you treat me.
I had always questioned why you did
What you did;
Was it an act of indebt?
I want your sincerity
Something that I've never really felt deeply...
Thank you for these acts.
I hope that you reach a point of sincerity
So that in the future,
I can understand why I was willing to be
Close by as you
Tread at a distance lightly.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
Now,we are on par
Why are you so dusty?
This table and the tiny desk before you,
Aren't they all separating us ever?
You are ever so empty
Doesn't the boy care for you?
Never are we on par
Lest we switch positions
Desk and table?That's all you see pampered?
We are of varying divisions
Look to the sky
Now back to earth
You see the clouds so high
The sky is indebt
Its filled already though
But holds greedily
Then will it let go
When it has to, angrily
The one you call man
What makes him so?
He sits on another human
Only boys do so
The one you call boy
He cares more than you know
You are just a man's toy
Too blind to know
I am ever so empty,
Yes,that i know
But just a little pity
And i too will glow
We run the relay
While you lie
You get the pay
We pay the price
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
Indebt to the armor below par,
I soldered myself a new one.
I was enamored with the illusion,
But...
Alone in my reflection.
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 2:08 AM UTC
i linger on you...
undone in doing.
cagey suns in a
thrift of rays.
parting your hair
from your eyes
will indebt me to
ebb-flow.
a hair line naming
it's water.
baptizing the baptizer.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC