"scorecard" poems
Devoid of all things, I am numb to the center of my being
Eloquence, spider webs, elegant poison drips from my tongue
Speeding through my veins to trip up the heart
Once more, I find myself broken and bleeding
Lying on the cold marble floor, skirt up, hair down
Angry, crying, mascara streaked down ***** cheeks
The temptation of the bottle too close to turn away
I am nothing without my soul, and that’s long gone now
Only the shell remains, and she’s got a cold shoulder to the world
Nothing much matters anymore, but the darkness and I
Of this much I’m sure, love’s a ***** boys.
**** her before she ***** you.
They’ll carry you to your grave, broken, and battered
Heart stitched shut, riddled with bullet holes and
Engraved upon it will be little scratch marks for every heart broken.
Hell hath no fury, and Love doesn’t forgive, or forget.
Ever. She keeps a scorecard, and she’s got your name on a target
All we can hope for is that she’ll take pity on our souls. Maybe
Remember that she has a heart too. I doubt it.
The most we can believe in is ourselves.
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 2:53 PM UTC
Not Your Students
In classrooms cold where chalk once sang, A silence fell that bruised, then rang—Not with words, but with the stare, The kind that strips you standing there.
You raised your hand, a hopeful reach,
But hope was not what they would teach. Instead, a smirk, a cutting tone—
You left that room more skin than bone.
Then home, where love should be a balm, became a storm disguised as calm.
A voice that picked at every seam,
Till you forgot your right to dream.
“You call that clean?” “You think that’s smart?” “I’ll do it myself” was the remark. Each word a dagger masked as art. Too loud, too late, too much, too thin— No place outside, no peace within.
Their love was weighed in harsh critique, A scorecard life, a twisted streak. You shrank to fit their brittle mold, While they stood proud, and you grew cold.
And still you moved through every day,
A ghost in roles you couldn’t play.
The teacher, spouse—they wore their masks—While you were buried under tasks.
But here you are, still breathing deep,
Though night has stolen countless sleep.
Your truth is not a whispered lie—It grows each time you dare to cry.
One day, the mirrors will not lie,
And you will see the reason why
The ones who break us hide their shame— Because you carry all their flame.
Let it burn, and light your name.
© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
Apr 21, 2025
Apr 21, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 4:19 AM UTC
Split Decision
A left to the jaw
a right to the groin
not a clear winner
you need to flip a coin
no holds barred
everything is fair
except for strangulation
or the pulling of hair
not sure how it started
or where it will end
no longer lovers
no point to pretend
go to neutral corners
wait for the whistle to blow
I'm tired of this fight
can't believe she don't know
waiting for the scorecard
no need for special vision
no one is the winner
it's a split decision
Gomer LePoet....
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
He thinks he is DON WAND
A kid Romeo believing he is the man to look upon
He has a forbidden romance scorecard
Doesn’t understand true love
The Little Romeo thinks he is every Woman’s dream to think of
He breaks woman’s hearts
Never finishes what he starts
Yet when woman see Little Romeo, it becomes a depart
Little Romeo calls himself “Romance”
Yet he adds “Chance”
Little Romeo wants to advance
Fat Chance
It becomes for Little Romeo to love
Nothing really to think of
Little Romeo really doesn’t know
He needs someone to show
Little Romeo chants
Woman call it cheat
It sounds more like deceit
Woman trick Little Romeo at his own game
He becomes the woman’s prey to tame
Little Romeo’s mission is totally lame
Grow Up
Understand what love is
Know exactly what you want
Just let Chemistry take its course
Be yourself, and not pretend to be somebody else
Love will help you find your way
Little Romeo, that is the best advice, and you will be ok
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC
Don't we all sometimes stagger and fall, and taste the dirt
don't we all sometimes wake up to the morning sun and feel the hurt?
Perhaps we all have similar souls that somehow feel the same
maybe we all have minds that short circuit and feel the pain.
Are we all that different when the scorecard is examined quick
aren't we all just a little disturbed and perhaps a little sick?
I think we are but I can't complain, I have no easy way
to make sure that tomorrow will be a better day.
So I will grab on to the present and hold it close in fear
there is no point in feeling pain that causes us to shed a tear.
Shoot it down, it's useless it drags us back each and every day
but it never stands loud and clear and shows a better way.
I guess I am out of here, alone and on the road
a pack upon my shoulders, feeling pain from yesterdays load.
WHC
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
you close your eyes and
wrap your arms around yourself,
trying to make yourself as small as possible
you turn off the lights
and hide under the blankets
and suddenly you're seven years old again
hiding under the bed,
hands clamped over your sister's ears,
trying to be strong for the both of you
even though you were seven and
she was only four and
you forfeited your childhood
in the hopes that your baby sister,
the only thing that matters to you,
could grow up happy
you squeeze your eyes shut and
will yourself not to cry,
to stay strong
because she is not worth your tears
and you whisper 'i am strong'
to yourself over and over again
but it doesn't help,
nothing helps anymore,
except for counting
every day you wake up and
add one more tally to your notebook;
a scorecard of how long you've survived
it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth
every time you look at it,
a reminder of your weakness
you take it out sometimes
on nights like this,
to remind yourself that you are good
but then you get an ache in your chest
and your eyes glance over to the bottom drawer
where, hidden away in the back corner, are your blades
and your fingers twitch over your wrist,
like a reflex, and you want to feel the burn once more
you just want to feel again
you want to feel the blade pierce your skin
and watch the blood drip down your arm,
pooling on the bed, staining it
a wave of embarrassment washes over you,
because you're itching to hurt yourself,
and you promised you wouldn't do it again
you try to steady your breath
when she raises her voice again
but it doesn't work
you hear her coming towards your room
and hold your breath
and stay as still as possible
you pretend to be asleep
and take even breaths
and maybe she won’t hurt you
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
Shedding my skin
Trudging thru ashes again
Mark the scorecard
This life is hard
Maybe one day I'll find away
And in this darkness I won't stay
I'll break the chains that bind me here
I'll break the bubble, of this darkened sphere
Till that day I'll just sit and rock
Waiting for the next shoe to drop
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Standing atop the pile of ****
The’ve heaped on me for years,
I am not buried in it. Even
The soles of my warrier boots are clean.
My righteous coating still holds fast
And everything they throw at me
Richchets to land as notes
On their St. Peter score card.
ljm
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 8:27 AM UTC
A Man named Bond
That’s James Bond 007 it is
But his real name is Sean Connery
He made tons of movie action flicks
007 a sequence that sticks
Gadgets used emphasize the adventure effects
They were used as protects
007 being an Agent
I remember one of the movies, THUNDERBALL
Utterance in the word
All action that would be heard
You would often find 007 in female love
Two hearts coming together one can think of
I know now I have your attention
But Sean Connery was more than an Actor
He competed in Bodybuilding Contest such as the Mr. Universe
So you see Sean Connery is Universal
He spans Globe
Across the seas thieves try to steal
But 007 is hot on the trail to see being an Agent is for real
However, Sean Connery life goes beyond the Mr. Universe Title
Try keeping a Scorecard of his accomplishments
You would probably run out of time
Thanks Mr. Connery for your talent
I couldn’t just be silent
007 I know so well
Sean Connery’s Acting that was simply swell
Thanks for the entertain
My heart will always remain
Until we see each other again
Heaven called and you must transcend.
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 4:04 PM UTC
More fool me. You named the
earth a green planet, the sky
often ten shades of punk. You
told the Angels to leave your
scorecard at the door.
The Angel of abuse to the
Angel of love.
Much of desire is so short
an afternoon.
The bulls are running and they
Look to you to have
The answers
Caroline Shank
9.16.23
Sep 16, 2023
Sep 16, 2023 at 8:32 PM UTC
Goals take them in your stride
They are part of your,
journey and, ride
Embrace what you feel,
you can do
Never feel pressured
Only do what is right for you
© 2021 Carol Natasha Diviney
Dec 18, 2021
Dec 18, 2021 at 6:29 AM UTC