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"samberg" poems
the only time we care about the poor is in disaster, there's been freedom for decades, but we're still owned by slave masters, incorporated trademarks branded on our spine, the american dream, might as well be bovine. flagpole sitting flappers, never expect to fall, '33 til infinity, greed affects us all, and it's more, than a disease, there's no atticus, instead, great gatsbies. and boo radley, aint gonna right these wrongs, all we've got are our words and the will to stand strong, and it seems we're just monkeys, launched into orbit, in spaceships, that only fall once reality hits, and i don't see any solutions soon, we consume and presume, that this is all a cartoon, asterix fiction, we lack conviction, we lack the diction, to speak our mind, we are confined, to the roles, and the moulds, and the holes, that are made for our souls, we stay out of the spotlight, even when the times right, allergic to great heights, like madden going to superbowls. ice cold, a wise man said was cooler than cool but these fools aint never heard of ice-nine, it's the right time, got the right rhymes, who cares about these thugs, i'm set on madoff crimes, who cares about the dealers, follow the money like the wire, we're civilians in vans under apache fire, and the cover-up is comin, the cover-up is comin the cover-up is comin the cover-up is comin the only time i'm hostile, is within, when i gotta smile at these businessmen, that are tearing us apart, and ******** on our soil, tearing out our hearts, creeping like the mcboyles, i've toiled in the trenches, for most of my days, as have the majority of those i know, and we can't just quit, we gotta get paid, materialstic societies depend on dough, so we dream of being on boats like samberg the only threat to our fatasses is the hamburg -ler, there's no cure, there's no care, there's no health, it's not fair, but if you keep on dreamin, one day it'll be there, simply stare at the sun, things'll brighten up, keep buying that product, trust me, they give a **** fall into place, stand in single file, and whatever you do, don't forget to smile.
0
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
shawn
ice-nine
the only time we care about the poor is in disaster, there's been freedom for decades, but we're still owned by slave masters, incorporated trademarks branded on our spine, the american dream, might as well be bovine. flagpole sitting flappers, never expect to fall, '33 til infinity, greed affects us all, and it's more, than a disease, there's no atticus, instead, great gatsbies. and boo radley, aint gonna right these wrongs, all we've got are our words and the will to stand strong, and it seems we're just monkeys, launched into orbit, in spaceships, that only fall once reality hits, and i don't see any solutions soon, we consume and presume, that this is all a cartoon, asterix fiction, we lack conviction, we lack the diction, to speak our mind, we are confined, to the roles, and the moulds, and the holes, that are made for our souls, we stay out of the spotlight, even when the times right, allergic to great heights, like madden going to superbowls. ice cold, a wise man said was cooler than cool but these fools aint never heard of ice-nine, it's the right time, got the right rhymes, who cares about these thugs, i'm set on madoff crimes, who cares about the dealers, follow the money like the wire, we're civilians in vans under apache fire, and the cover-up is comin, the cover-up is comin the cover-up is comin the cover-up is comin the only time i'm hostile, is within, when i gotta smile at these businessmen, that are tearing us apart, and ******** on our soil, tearing out our hearts, creeping like the mcboyles, i've toiled in the trenches, for most of my days, as have the majority of those i know, and we can't just quit, we gotta get paid, materialstic societies depend on dough, so we dream of being on boats like samberg the only threat to our fatasses is the hamburg -ler, there's no cure, there's no care, there's no health, it's not fair, but if you keep on dreamin, one day it'll be there, simply stare at the sun, things'll brighten up, keep buying that product, trust me, they give a **** fall into place, stand in single file, and whatever you do, don't forget to smile.
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77
Brookyln Nine-Nine flashes across the screen of my laptop I wonder if this show makes you think about me Because even the obnoxious theme song reminds me of That oversized, purple couch I will never sit on again , The Christmas tree you hosted in your living room until March, Or the pictures that your daughter drew, strung up on the wall next to the sign you bought reading “You Are My Sunshine” I wonder if you ever bought that gray sectional, Or put the tree up extra early this year Or moved that sign to your daughter’s bedroom door Every cheesy one-liner Andy Samberg says Leaves the words you left lonely In the back of my head. You were right, that night When I drove south to a familiar nowhere To see an open door with your lopsided grin. You were right, I think I did love you. I promised myself I would not let the memory of you ruin this television show. But I find it hard to watch, I find it hard to think, I find it hard to know that I must coincide with the inability to know how you are or who you are Anymore. Rumors tell me about the weight you’ve lost, And how the speckled gray now covers nearly all of your freshly shaven head. I know that your skin would not have slowed to wrinkle with mine, but I cannot help but roam around the unknown of you and I. Our episodes did not end With a bittersweet goodbye or a tragic farewell, The cliffhanger too skewed to draw conclusions from A forgettable ending to a promising pilot. We were not a series. I did not make the finale. Life is not a network sitcom I cannot watch the scenes of your life that proceed without me As much as I want, Your existence didn’t cease when your credits rolled to me. And with every memorable scene we did share, I am thankful that it did not broadcast on NBC.
0
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 8:45 PM UTC
ridiculous_miss
Promised me a Protagonist and Provided me a Fool
Brookyln Nine-Nine flashes across the screen of my laptop I wonder if this show makes you think about me Because even the obnoxious theme song reminds me of That oversized, purple couch I will never sit on again , The Christmas tree you hosted in your living room until March, Or the pictures that your daughter drew, strung up on the wall next to the sign you bought reading “You Are My Sunshine” I wonder if you ever bought that gray sectional, Or put the tree up extra early this year Or moved that sign to your daughter’s bedroom door Every cheesy one-liner Andy Samberg says Leaves the words you left lonely In the back of my head. You were right, that night When I drove south to a familiar nowhere To see an open door with your lopsided grin. You were right, I think I did love you. I promised myself I would not let the memory of you ruin this television show. But I find it hard to watch, I find it hard to think, I find it hard to know that I must coincide with the inability to know how you are or who you are Anymore. Rumors tell me about the weight you’ve lost, And how the speckled gray now covers nearly all of your freshly shaven head. I know that your skin would not have slowed to wrinkle with mine, but I cannot help but roam around the unknown of you and I. Our episodes did not end With a bittersweet goodbye or a tragic farewell, The cliffhanger too skewed to draw conclusions from A forgettable ending to a promising pilot. We were not a series. I did not make the finale. Life is not a network sitcom I cannot watch the scenes of your life that proceed without me As much as I want, Your existence didn’t cease when your credits rolled to me. And with every memorable scene we did share, I am thankful that it did not broadcast on NBC.
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