"shannonball" poems
You don't stay up late with me anymore,
While everyone else goes snore, snore,snore
Infatuated with a furball, and I can't blame you,
And there's no way In hell anyone can ever tame you
Oh you ******* flame you
Ill strain you, like white tea
Delicate an easy to burn
And honestly I think he,not I should get the first turn,
He did call shotgun, after all
Control myself, patrol the shelf full of air tight and light free leaves, what are you pet peeves ?
I pray to not leave like a band of theives, unnoticed and unwanted
And for the last few weeks my dreams,
Your god **** freckled fAce you have played the muse, I mean there different every night
But there's still a reoccurring theme,
You follow me every time I dream
Infatuated with a furball,
There's enough black and live from them for all y'all
They have arrived,
And a mother deprived
But they've taken the best to your scent, and they are alone like me,
Such small creatures in a grand scary world,
And again they are like me, stripped from comfortability and perhaps forced into conformity
And for the last time I am like them, black, and half of myself in the dark
I guess a couple people know the darkness inside
But I try and keep myself in stride
Except I am no sprinter and I trip upon my own feet more times then not
I wish dreams of you,
We're nothing more then a dream that became a true real life thought
**** everything I've bought
Since I've been here, especially that hellish hillsy dress that was an awful surprise
I can tell you are some type of grand witch
Despite a minor fear of your wiccanism
You have,
Unfortunately transformed into a completely complex unique,
Unknown organism,
Even Einstein could not Websterize the Shannonball
Because I, myself made It up
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
Let the sky fill up your bucket
Since you slept past noon
and said **** it
And I guess down the hall
is a good distance to avoid the catastrophicly wonderful anomaly
That scientific minds describe as a Shannonball
Recently discovered and rare
Now sitting next to me in a plastic chair, shelter from the sky that fills your bucket, and you slept past one and still said **** it
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
An underlying theme,
Of the Shannonball
As fresh fur roams the hall
And soon will come the chill of
the fall
, and well both be stuck inside the foreign warmth of the mall
nd even though you sleep down the hall, I wonder if you think of me as your light free lids begin to fall
(Side note)
Your the perfect amount of TALL
But,
Why can't I seem to write anything that doesn't involve you ?
I mean **** it was hidden from view
From an entire crew
Why'd you have to be a pen and not a pencil ? A stencil and a fossil, of a clearly ancient soul,
If you'll please excuse me,
I think ill have a hard time getting on my way
But god **** it I have trouble stomaching all the god dammits
I wish to say, but I save my tongue for another day
Where
I guess I won't be the bad guy
Even though I never was.
Except I always will be
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
Complecancy sits in circles,
And you sit adjayscently to me
Closing your doors, like confousioily (so ******* silly)
You are a Shannonball, with your own sense of awareness
Compared to this, an angel to kiss
Nocturnal
The moon controls your tides
Maybe well be able to meet again on some other side of some other point of existence at a point of being that the stars shine in favor of us
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 11:23 AM UTC