"prepubescents" poems
Go to an art museum
Pretend you understand
Nod along with what others are saying
Because otherwise you'll look bland
Though the colors on canvas means nothing to you
Everyone else seems to get it
Your legs grow sore from standing around
You decide to rest for a bit
Oh **** that bench was actually art!
What a mistake you've made
The staff tensely continue to glare
You wonder how much they get paid
Naked women adorn the walls
And prepubescents giggle
That one creepy painting is definitely staring at you
Uncomfortably, away you wriggle
Though the art museum is a cultured place to go
By the end you're always miserable
At least next time you'll know not to buy 15 dollar coffee
And remember that flash photography is unforgivable
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
we all hate loneliness
but we choose to ignore
we all say we're sad
and that life is a bore
oh time to explore
only to capture it on camera
and then we leave that whole area
to post it online
i mean we're inside,
most of the time
sitting behind devices
writing words that rhyme
we're happy with crime,
until it takes a live,
but you'd be contributing
if she was still alive
so tell me now
how does it work
we dont know intelligence
but we know how to twerk
prepubescents saying **** now
when we used to say ****
i wish it would change, now
if only words worked
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC