"rodent" poems
The giraffe and the mouse lived in a big tall house.
The mouse asked giraffe "do I make you laugh?"
In response to the mouse, the giraffe said "no"
"How can I laugh when you're close to my toe?"
"Close to your toe?" Said the mouse "but why?
Giraffe looked down and began to cry.
"It's a long story mouse" giraffe cried in despair.
"I'm all ears" said mouse and he pulled up a chair.
"To cut a long story short I've got an in growing nail"
"Oh" said mouse with a flick of his tail.
"Leave it to me I'll be back in a minute"
He brought back a kit with some first aid in it.
"Lift up your foot" and mouse set to work.
Giraffe raised his leg trying not to ****
Mouse fixed the nail in no time at all
Giraffe was impressed by mouse so small!
"How did you do it?" Asked giraffe in disbelief
Mouse just wiped his brow with a handkerchief.
"While I'm down here giraffe is there anything I've missed?"
"After all...
I'm the one and only....
Qualified rodent chiropodist!"
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
The night storm washed up infant squirrels at my doorstep.
One by one, they crawled inside, their heads too heavy to hold up high.
I watched them paw at the carpet, their tongues searching.
Their claws find your sweater, within it they scamper,
they are hungry.
They rumble by my stomach, and poke their faces out of your collar.
To stop their crying, I feed them raisins, and we look to you for more.
But they see your eyes are meant for your thoughts alone,
and fall off my skin and out of your clothing.
The squirrels have grown up, and yearn for expanse.
That's okay hon, I’ll return them to the forest
first thing tomorrow morning.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 7:59 AM UTC
I got a ruby secret
I keep it in my pocket
Only Zulu knows about it
So I put him in a prison
He thinks he's getting out soon
But he doesn't have a clue
He's just a little rodent
But he thinks he's a Raven!
He's in love with a prophet
So now he's on a conquest
But I planned his execution
He doesn't know know about it
He's always getting roasted
Thinks he's a stallion
He's really just a rodent
But he knows my little secret
I tried to sew his mouth shut
But he had an objection!
Thinks he's the president
Shh.. "He's really just a rodent"
I gave him a promotion...
So now he is my magician
He just keeps on escaping
He's drunk again, talking ****
Hey Zulu! Where are you running to?
Everybody is looking for you!
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
carving a few simple words into her memory
a whisper of hair drifts over her face
eyes shut she waits for the cold crisp dawn
the candle distracts
and weaves it own tale
soft with smoke and mystery
night disburses
and the redhead across the hall comes tapping
naked and sweating
looking to cop a fresh spike
my girl makes her wait in the hall
"rude" she whispers over and over
our days here are fleeting
soon to escape this motel
and its rodent festival
to the great sunshine
never snows
quiet destitution creeps in with breakfast
and lay in the corner with a soft sigh
down in my mind i want to sleep
but its nearly time to wait
for the mexicans at quality hill
with two $20's in my claw
I am not yet ready to write the words
that would seal our fate and close this painfull day
that poem is within me
it drives me out into the bright sunlight
and the redhead follows trying to make nice
and i know its dope game logic that drives her
i know i could get my girl to bed her
a ********* would be tasty
umm that thought keeps me warm
while waiting on the mexicans
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Pikachu is not totally fiction after all,
There's this cute rodent called Pika,
This Pika is Pikachu's inspiration,
Found in the foothills of Sikkim,
But the scientists think it's new,
Pika is one tiny Indian rodent,
Its standing posture, its ears,
Have been the inspiration,
Not just now but for long,
Since antiquity it's there,
Only now got discovered.
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
My hamster has asthma
it's so well not ****** cool
he sits there just looking at me
when I put him in his ball
The wheel I bought him to run inside
does sit in his cage redundant
for he has no want to play
my poor short of breath rodent
I took him to the vets
this coughing spluttering pet
I told of my malady
hoping he'd make him breath better for me
The vet looked at me astounded
and very confounded
as this condition he had never seen
a hamster with asthma looking cute and serene
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
a pentagon study
determined that putin
is an anti-social control freak
kind of vermin
(really? this required a genius
kind of keenness? really?)
darpa should stick to cool things
like the internet and invisibility cloaks
and drones armed with pork parts
a rodina rodent in the grain
needs spankin'
with more than just sanctions
cuz knocking out their incisors
doesn't make them any nicer
- a rat with no teeth
is still a rat.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
How treacherous.
How boring.
It was a time between three and four.
A time between eleven and one.
The pre-emptive witching hour.
The incidental grey area.
My mind was a-buzz.
My thoughts were flashing.
I knew not what they were,
But I was morose and melancholic.
I could not work.
I could not sleep.
I could not think.
Chaos had become my order.
And infinity had become my moment.
Then, there ahead of me,
Stood two women,
Straight and strong.
One was a Siren
The other, a Muse.
I thought hallucinations.
Perceived ideas through a ******* mind.
But alas, they were real.
I touched them and reacted.
Warned against their poison.
Their mercuric tongues.
Their stolen hearts.
Their arachidonic souls.
And their odd Tsavorite eyes.
They walked.
I followed.
Into a labyrinthine hive,
They sauntered.
Nonchalant angels,
Indifferent to my stalk.
In the centre, there lay
An abyss.
They sat on the edge
And beckoned me
Forth.
I accepted, curious, yet cautious.
And through the Song of the Siren,
And the Myth of the Muse,
The blackness beckoned.
I fell, I flew to my mind’s end.
Accepted my descent, unknowingly.
The air was still. The tunnel black.
And I landed softly.
Alone. Safe. Hungry.
So, I walked to the edge.
The Siren waited. Offered her tail
And walked.
Crawled into smoke, was a Rat.
The Siren pointed, then followed
The smoke.
Rat awoke, to run to my foot,
Up my leg and towards my shoulder.
Rat pointed too,
So I walked to the edge
To appear in water.
Glistening and moist
Stood the Muse,
With a smile on her lips.
Again her tail led me,
As Rat jumped to the Muse.
We glided in the water,
Blinded in the dark,
Until we reached a cave, having dodged the rocks.
Inside, I was left,
Save for Rat.
The Muse flew off, a smile on her lips.
Drowning, by my waist, was a rodent. Erinaceous and small.
I lifted it up and placed Hedgehog on the opposite shoulder.
Hedgehog thanked me,
And showed me the way.
A niche in the rock.
We entered, all the same.
On the other side was a bed.
There lied the Siren and the Muse.
Seductive and Bare.
I was pulled forth.
Their tails were strong.
Their tongues were mercury.
Their hearts were stolen.
Their souls were arachidonic.
Their eyes were Tsavorite.
I was poisoned all along.
In vapid lust,
Morose passion,
Melancholic ecstasy,
It ended.
They have left me
Only with Rat and Hedgehog.
Here I will die.
Led to be abused.
All that shall be known
Of my boring and treacherous
Witching hour
Is this story.
I dedicate it to
The Muse,
The Siren,
Who are but one girl.
And to Rat, Hedgehog and me
Who is but one *******
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
As whisker-twister pauses, tho’ journey lingers on,
Sniveling and sneaking as he darts in shadows long,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
No food, nor sleep, no drink and no refuge, found anywhere in France,
Nowhere to run save forests, upon which he’s forced to take a chance,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
Scampering in shadows, with the hunter’s distance being closed,
Rodent Ambiorix, -little mouse, is paused and panting in repose,
And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
Frightened little mouse, run, yes run away,
Frightened little mouse you’ve come to rue that day,
For frightened little mouse, -Caesar’s on his way!
And the Gallic peace; tranquility. *
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
There is a Mouse in this House.
Insatiable,
He keeps me up at night,
thin fine claws on metal stove tops,
whispering to the birds what a fool he's made of me,
because I couldn't make the fibers of my home work with me.
There is a Mouse in this House,
Immortal,
I've fished him drowned out of drains,
fed him bleach on silver trays,
listened to him choke in air vents,
his chestnut jacket perpetually in the corners of my eye,
leaving reminders in my cereal,
this rodent he refuses to die.
There is a Mouse in this House,
Intangible,
he is not slipping through my fingers he's dancing on them,
quick petite feet tapping on my counters,
fleet and fast like smoke,
I've seen him seep through a clenched fist and still escape with wedding bands,
There is a Mouse in this House.
Impish,
he waits 'till I'm alone to play his music,
the crack and chew,
too early with the morning dew,
he will not play his song for you, it'd be too easy to be seen.
There is a Mouse in this House,
primeval,
he's been waiting,
mapped the walls and painted my flaws,
tactician skilled and iron willed,
this beast knows war far more than my militia mind was ready for,
plotting out insurgencies for restless and anxieties,
There is a Mouse in this House,
emaciated,
what's his is his,
what's mine is his,
there is no sacred to things with tails.
clearing out my pantry,
his jaws now tasting for my sanity,
finished with the:
Rye,
White,
and Sourdough,
he's fixed his tongue on sweat breads,
scuttling with unnatural flow,
There is a Mouse in this House.
Charming,
too handsome a creature to ever be singed,
he peddles on the burners simply too strut,
scampering through flames to test his luck,
There is a Mouse in this House,
Insomniac,
from now until each evening hour,
his paws touch turns time sour.
Ivory teeth clanging out a new ink-printed deed,
he owns the tenant and never even had to rent it,
There is a Mouse in this House,
arrogant,
too self-assured and clever,
cunning, devilish a creature he may be,
but he has yet to get a load of me,
holed away within his den,
his first mistake was not letting me win,
setting aria's on fly's wings to declare his victory,
this furry phantasm is all too aware of what he did to me.
There is a Mouse in This House,
sleeper,
I'm plotting my comeback,
sure-footed,
slow breathes,
and savage hands,
I'm ready,
silent and steady;
this beautiful monstrous mouse had best prepare for battle.
There is a Mouse in this House.
But it's my House.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 3:10 PM UTC
Pancakes
-
Pie
-
Apple
-
Green
-
Malfoy
-
Snake
-
Mother
-
Upstairs
-
Refrigerator
-
Computer
-
Refrigerator
-
Computer
-
Hunger
-
Refrigerator
-
Homework
-
Computer
-
Sigh
-
Mouse
-
Rodent
-
Weasel
-
Ron Weasley
-
Red
-
Cherry
-
Sundae
-
Hunger
-
Pancakes.
© 3/16/13
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Reflections of my self, my being, my person, my soul,
Forever replayed, reshown, redone, reinacted
For the fact is
The strength that settles in my palms is ignited by the ignorance of man.
Oh man oh man how corrupt and vile does your mind be
Calculating and engineering plans and strategies
That will never leave your mind,
Free
To be or not to be
A mockerey
Of your confused biology, which hysterically
Questions your existence.
A gift so great,
Yet bronzed with your persistence to query the beauty I have given you,
Which is life!
Behind every man is a woman who loves and sacrifices their own needs and Necessities for happiness,
Clarity and justice.
A dancing cherubim dancing elegantly like a warm summer ray from your childhood Window.
Revitilises,
Re-energises,
Re-grows,
The root of your soul
As if the buds of may.
Honey toned, chocolate foamed
Milky light,
All pleasures for your delight.
Spread on to one body of immaculate perfection
Formed from Aphrodite's tears.
But the woman,
The woman possesses such omnipotent spiritual clasp on nature
That if she was to know,
Overstand
Or
Even accept a miniscule quantity of this knowledge
Then-man-would-be-woman.
To trap and encase a man like a rodent
Is to burn a ring of fire around his finger that leads life to his heart,
Where it beats impatiently to the tune of the womans song.
Skin soft, eyes lost
Sight of who I am,
Many different descriptions -although similar- still not the same,
But am I really to blame?
For the insecurities that you have belittled on me.
For my hair is long,
Then short,
Then short,
Then none.
My skin dark,
Then light,
Then light,
But not right
A constant fight,
A battle to aim for the right kind of existence but even still
I Exist!
And realise whatever you insist, still
I Exist,
Which is that gift that i hold in my being here,
Looking there
At my elegant stare,,
Which i dare
To offend the image, which you have sought to be womanly.
No longer do I fear my image
As it is a powerful icon of modern day life
To withstand the turbulent stresses and grind of strife
To help a man.
To have.
A happy.
WIFE!
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Trees bare, night falling,
Cat prowling, distant owl calling,
Cold air, frosted with flakes,
Of Snow.
Spotting the cat, owl awakes.
Owl and the Pussycat's strange
partnership plays out on the wild range.
One a trophy bearer,
The other wisely to accept.
The owl dropped down, talons filled with rat,
He accepted this **** the black and white patch cat,
Looking at the other so close and so near,
There was no weakness, no fear.
***** cat took the rat mouth full of rodent,
The owl stood, feathers whiter than the moonlit snow,
Stopping and dropping the rat,to say,"My turn next
time, I know," then picking up the gift once again.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Where I live, you see, is the future
which nobody saw coming but me,
and I guarantee, its truth,
I consider ants sentient, indeed.
I cringe for my imaginary Jain friends,
I just smashed another dozen scouting sugar ants,
and I sang to them as I did,
hoping their tiny antennae
knew the deal,
we throw ant-edibles in rodent safe containers,
out past the edge
of the motion sensors,
ants of all common sorts are welcome.
- because our fire ants have some how mellowed
- since arriving from Texas
on waves of dread… fire ants,
maybe that kind never got here. any way
- now, we live with them and all the others
- on the edge of the eastern pacific
- super colony that has no war
- on its inner or outer edges.
But one must consider ants
as sapient sentients,
senders of signals, wireless radio,
wee-tiny antennae vibes,
to sing a song ants can translate that says,
This human says: I shall **** all you send to my kitchen.
It is a thought song, you think it, as you ****
You might try it if, you consider
ants are not just pests, but
interesting life tools, for living in dirt
with no screens, lack so obvious it is
noticed by any with attention to antennae
as intense as
that that of Everest Pax, who in April began his sixth year…
Now, who
can hold the ant mind
long enough to imagine the queen,
with Ender-vision?
Through the eyes that watched me **** the scouts,
and signal boundaries to the Queen.
Jun 12, 2021
Jun 12, 2021 at 4:36 PM UTC
I know it's only been a short time since the first moment I saw you but when I did, I knew
I have watched your mouth carve wisdom into trees, your beak burying its secrets into their wood
It is the most graceful destruction I have ever witnessed
There is music in your rhythm; you are a song I could play on repeat
No hummingbird can create what symphonies your unknown language does
If we spoke the same one I would tell you how much I want to love you
I do, like sand loves kisses from waves and how flowers grow every time the sun greets them
I didn't know how to tell you this
So I took the only opportunity I had available
I decided to risk it all for the chance to be yours
I have hopped from the highest branch on to your back and I am along for the ride, the ups and downs of romance, how it can take you to new heights once impossible to reach
You have given me wings I never thought I could have
While some have mistaken my attempts with bad intention, you are the only one who truly needs to understand
The only struggle here is the hoping that you will feel the same,
That you will see more than rodent in me
Maybe you could realize I am more than just digging holes and rascality
I would fly to the moon just to prove myself to you
Together we could be one for the books, crossing boundaries not yet written in history
I hope you don't take me as too forward
But I didn't want to risk not knowing if we could ever be
I took a leap of faith-
Thank you for catching me.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
It is the same garden that holds,
Prickly rose bushes,
Healing basil and spritely marigolds.
It is here the bees fly, birds rest their wings,
It is here every morning the nightingale sings.
It is here the hare scampers, the squirrel scurries,
The snake slithers, the rodent hurries.
It is here the gecko hides, the worm crawls,
The bat flies when darkness falls.
In the mud and the dirt, the soil and the gravel,
In coarse little stones, smooth little pebbles,
In topaz skies, in waters azure,
In a lotus that blossoms in a world impure.
In the siesta of flowers, the fiesta of leaves,
In the dance of raindrops serenaded by a breeze.
In summer's golden glare, autumns russet finger
In the green breath of spring, the white hand of winter..
Beauty in His creations, in every season,
In every color for a rainbow of reasons.
Each special and each rare,
Each, in a bough or burrow,
Has a niche somewhere.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
She looked at a distance before she sighed, thinking about all the good and bad that we had once both shared.
There's no one quite like you; fun, loud, ambitious, aggressive and toxic.
You hated quietness surrounding you, preferred to be occupied with loud and fun people, the kind that is filled with energy that buzzed your brain cells almost to death.
You hated slow people; those who take time to absorb whatever that is happening into their brains. You loved the speed, the thrill of those events and mostly, you loved those adrenaline rush in your blood stream, those kind that leave you wanting for more.
And you hated those reserved people. You never liked probing but you use your aggressive method to inevitably force people out of their shells. You said sharing was caring, at least, it was caring to you.
I wasn't quite like you.
I was all the things you hated; quiet, slow and introverted.
Yet I was that little difference you've never quite seen, or I might as well say, I'm a lab rodent to you.
I was what you were experimenting on, and after all the fun you had, you'd throw me alone and away, just like what you'd done to the others.
You'll never see this little piece of collection here and if you do, you probably wouldn't know it's you.
You're a surge of toxic, like how diabetic patients needed a syringe of insulin after every meal.
You kept injecting power over my life, day after day. Making me feel weak and inferior whenever I'm with you.
One moment you made me felt like I'm important to you and next, you were having fun out there with people whom I barely know.
Everyone you met and became close to, was a splitting image of you except they didn't know. And I was the failed rodent, who never once got any of your toxic into my character yet I was intoxicated.
This poison never fades; it keeps circulating in my blood, attacking my brain.
Every step of moving on was a pull away from you and a push towards another.
And each pull towards someone reminds me of how much I am respected by others and the right way of me being treated.
But I will and am missing you right now.
Not for your toxic and negativity but for the smiles and bubble my heart always felt whenever I was with you.
The daily memories made even when there were fights all along.
My dearest friend, I hope you'll meet someone who'll be ale to help you more than I can, I hope she turns your toxic into safety.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
I bought a real nutcracker today.
A fine shiny black truly cool looking one!
Each crack compliments to a dandy vintage lad's imaginary home TV shopper Ad.
Saying‘It's guaranteed! Hundred percent of mechanosensory reception!’
I try to convince myself between time stretching
‘Yes or No’s and ‘Just use stones’
‘Come on you've deserved it!’
‘Why bother?’
You have been craving for each
Tried and tested any,
same as so many
even from a hard peach.
So why not!? Keep it! – as if a testimony, from tough to juicy mimicking fruity blending **** seduced by crunchy mouth twisting *****
Digested from special yearly events to monthly justifications then weekly to daily and surprisingly after dinner, before breakfast, as brunch or even a whole meal sometimes.
You gnaw like a small rodent layer by layer cute but so tight although he says that’s alright.
Dashing trunks as if a woodpecker,
Stealing home reserved only-for-the-pet’s crumbs and
Finally receiving next day’s well deserved belly cramps.
Come on you almost broke your teeth during your worldwide exploring different types of shell husking trip.
Feel blessed now one time for goddess’ sake that she winks and tweaks my lips while it creaks, festively announces your recent find that nuts you shall eat raw only - neither baked nor from a sinfully roasted ready packed plastic bag.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
There's a form of rodent
In Latin form "quill pig".
He isn't very fast.
He isn't very big.
But be very cautious
If you encounter one of these.
They are very nasty,
Mean, to say the least.
They bristle up and like cacti,
They have a vicious will...
You don't need to touch one to be
Nailed with a quill.
They will flick their tail at you
To let their venom fly,
So give this beast.a lot of room
When you see him going by.
People who are insecure
Will be like them so watch out!
You don't want to be around
When they start to pout...
Their quill will rend and skewer.
The quill/ pen has its art.
It will send a poison pen
Straight into the heart.
SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 2/12/2015
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
The subway air feels like pudding. It's thick, and as clingy as water. When you take a shower at night - and you should always take a shower at night, unless you want to sleep with the city - you can feel the air instantly liquify and drain away.
The memories leave marks on your skin, if you let them. The bruises on your sides from bumping unique people; the cut on your head from hitting a pole; the ache in your heels from walking too far. You're experiences hang on your skin, and shine through your eyes.
New York is unique because of her variety. She's strong because of her diversity. She grows because of her adaptability. New York is a jungle of human-animals trying to survive.
The smell of opportunity is stronger than the potent *** of other smells: the ***** rodent-infested tracks, frequent homeless sleeping quarters, grungy, old costumes on Times Square.
She is life; she is alive.
If you're alone or together you are always a part - a piece that makes it what it is. Without you the city survives. She has, and will. But without you, she's not what she is with you. Even if she tried.
People flow trough her streets as uniquely as blood runs through your veins. The heart orchestrates the motion, while the blood does the dance. she lives and breaths through each person's lungs. Each one arrives for a particular reason - even if for no reason at all. Our arrival helps her breath.
The anticipation before arriving in New York - not the Big Apple, no one calls it that - is enough to deprive a voyager of sleep on incoming flights. Even at 11:45 p.m. The jungle of buildings, built in perfect chaos testifies someone saw the bigger picture. A person may only see a foot, or a year in front of their face. New York saw far ahead, and high above.
Everyone is welcome. Some never leave. Permanently or temporarily, New York will take you in as long as you stay. She may hold on a little too long.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
The rain splutters at me in foreign tongue
As my mind hurdles under a mushroom
Shelter from the pelting lashes
Of nostalgic memory
Such vulnerable home from woes
Like a rodent hole in flooding summer
They tell me I am a finicky rat
That will not survive outside Sakubva
Ratatat-tatatatat-tart!
Oh but how true!
Each day I walk out in the morning
Come evening I pick every footprint I left
Back home
Prompted by need to use my footprints
Once more
Take care!
The radio blares
Save save save save
The television frowns
Wise up
Recycle is the trick in these hard times
Discarded beliefs, discarded memories, discarded tastes
Can be recycled
Recycled dreams, recycled husband, recycled wife...
I scrap my bottom in amazement
After all there is always a grain of virtue left
In what we discard -
O how I love the scent
God has made it that way
That each time you ****
Before you go
You save a nostalgic glance at your ****
Suppressing a sense of loss
For a part of you left behind
Like kites tied to strings we are
We regale in our false splendour
At time's mercy
The fruits of mental ************
Deflowered by new ****** worlds
Of lewd dreams in striking G-Strings
Gyrating ***** of fantastic insanity
That lure us
Into the heavy -bosomed clouds
Pregnant with cultural retribution
For the anarchy coursing our veins
Like the burning pain on my back
Each evening when I bend double
To pick up and bag my footprints
I left in the morning
This is not madness
When I tell you to let your beak
Of tolerance peck and peck
On your ****
What difference is there
Between **** in your belly and
**** steaming betwixt your legs?
What difference is home
When you are young and when old?
Riding on the back of butterfly dreams
When I am a newborn macho
In the bullring of entrepreneurship
Or O such cosmopolitan hunk
In the realm of fashion and modelling...
Sounds like sheltering under a mushroom
That springs and dazzles but a day
Hope I will hurtle back
Hope sweet home, home sweet home
I am a finical rat
That won't live away from home.
-dougwa-
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:21 AM UTC
"I wanna be best
Like no one ever was"
These words bring back
Memories of times long gone
"I travel across the land
Searching far and wide"
Whenever i feel down and out
I enter the escapist paradise
"I choose you"said Ash Ketchum
It flashed on the television screen
Now so many years have gone by
But the nostalgia doesn't leave
Walking on Mt. Coronet
As I traverse space and time
"Too much water"
Maybe but that's where Hoenn shines
Whenever the world outside
Brings the news of gloom
I go to Pallet town
And start a new journey from my room
Life is not black N white
When necrozma covers the sun and moon
On my Volcorona I ride
Through johto in search of suicune
I lose myself in Lumiose
The city of dazzling gleam
You are my sword ,my shield
And they say ,"just a fictitious being"
It maybe a children's game
But everyone's got a little child
Inside of them.Just a bunch of pixels but
They transport me to a simpler time
Just for a moment there
All the wrongs of the world disappear
In the Pokemon world I lose myself
Been lost for so many years
"You teach me
I teach you"
It's much more than an yellow rodent to me
"I choose you"
Pokemon
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 11:34 AM UTC
You are as confident as broken nails
and as filthy as a rodent smells.
You're like infidels in cheap hotels
where prostitutes have body sales.
This guilt was berthed when your stomach fell
forever deep into an endless well.
This is as tragic as a soiled veil
as you've become an empty shell.
Cigarette smoke climbs the walls,
but broken alarms sound muted calls.
Out here, there are countless brawls.
Your city sleeps; our city crawls.
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 1:37 PM UTC