"smarties" poems
Wine was cheap
Food was ****
Sat like a creep
And tried to fit
Sleepy as hell
Drank too much
Can't even spell
Wall is a crutch
The girls are cute
Music is loud
Might as well be mute
Another face in the crowd
Swim with the fish
Drink like'em too
Swig and a swish
I'm fuckin' through
Smile as you will
Grin as you like
But outta my grill
Ain't feelin so tight
Puke in the street
**** by the pole
Limbs feelin weak
Sleep in a hole
Rhymes not so pretty
Style not so sweet
Opposite o' pretty
Not really that deep
Hate most parties
Hate the people that go
Sit at home with a bag o' smarties
With a **** TV show
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
Not eating chocolate covered cherries and strawberries and lychees and onions and chillies and grapes and marshmallows and turtle meat and cake and shark bones and oysters and camel and beef and beef with dog food and rabbit fur and smarties and skittles and twine and rope and yak and buses and buffalo and authors and novels and chipping containers and bicylces and emus and penguins and polar bear slippers and darned socks and stewed lobster and Darwin Deez and get well cards and ibuprofen tablets is fine with me.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Easter party on Saturn
Hi dudes, Briano Alliano at the Saturn club rings and today we have
A few Easter numbers for the cosmic
Sleepers and dead from earth
The first song is Easter is a festival for all
You see we have clowns and bunnies and chickens and
A big Easter egg to crack
You see as we crack it
The chocolate goes everywhere
And the smarties come right out
Saying party over Easter
Party over Easter it's ever do fun
To party over Easter
The Easter bunny, is coming a running over to the Easter party now
So you dudes up here can share Easter till the kind folk find a way
To contact you, so we can party all night
And now here is our next Easter song
Ok it's Easter and you know it celebrate
It's Easter and you know it celebrate
You see Easter is a time to celebrate
With hot cross buns and eggs with colour
It's Easter and you know it
Celebrate
You see it's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
It's Easter and you know it
We'll party on
You see the fabulous Easter bunny , man
Brings the Easter eggs to celebrate
With his clan
It's Easter and you know it
We 'll party on
And now, dudes here is our next song called here comes Peter cottontail
Here comes Peter cottontail
Running down the bunny trail
Picking up the eggs from everywhere
You see he has a powder puff tail
And he enjoys eating snails
From the garden of the queen of hearts every single day
Here comes Peter cotton tail
Up and down the bunny trail
Yeah this is the best Easter that we ever had
Hopping down the Easter trail dropping eggs in each basket oh yeah
Peter Peter little baby Peter
Mighty Peter cottontail skips
Down the trail saying happy Easter
Happy Easter.to us all
And now here is our next Easter song Easter is living living is loving
And a loving family sharing a meal
Celebration a time to party With coloured eggs and chocolate bunnies and a hot cross bin to share
Over a cup of coffee or a dessert for a lovely meal down the club with people you know and love
And then we celebrate a day
For the families who had a rabbit in their house last night or the day
Jesus rose from the dead
Out of his bed, it felt like more of a sleep than death but the bible stayed it as death but Jesus reincarnated on Easter into a few of the farms animals and some people at the dinner table agree with that and some don't agree and it starts an
Easter religion feud ending with
A big happy Easter happy Easter
Happy Easter. And a happy Easter
To all and to all a great night
Then grandmother tells out to the kiddies I think I saw the Easter bunny leave out house this morning
And then asked did he leave you kids anything and then suddenly the
Dinner table had Easter eggs all over it but noone cared for it was Easter dudes happy happy happy hsppy Easter a time to celebrate
And it is a happy Easter from me as well
Happy Easter
And my encore is Easter eggs are tasty
You see we go to the shopping centre and we celebrate oh yeah
The Easter party is for young and old
Yeah this sounds so rad
The eggs are coloured in yellow and blue oh yeah oh yeah
The Easter eggs are tasty
Sent from my iPhone
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC
Children grow up
with jump ropes
barbie dolls
and suckers tangled in their hair
Children grow up
in daddy's shoes
and mommy's dresses
and Pixy Stix sugar in their laps
Children grow up
feeling the boom of fireworks
wading in the cold pool water
and pop rocks dancing on their tongue
Children grow up
with secrets kept from them
and told to them
and pockets filled with smarties wrappers as bribes
Children grow up
with dirt under their nails
and rain water soaking their clothes
and taffy between their teeth
Children grow up
with the wonders and horrors of the world
all on a sugar high
so they never learn the difference
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
I am very good at lying to everyone but my friends
These are Sinful talents you have that are really not something you should be proud of but you are actually very good at it like breaking in places, smuggling things (even if it is just smarties into the movie theater), and other random things. PLEASE feel free to add to this series post a poem and just label it "Sinful Talents (series)" and message me and I will repost it :) also include the hashtag sinfultalents
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Ow lover of roses,
I can't sweep through your phone
Because your phone is full of thorns
Ow lover of roses,
I can't sweep through your phone
Because your phone is full of thorns
I can't look into your screen,
Find eyes that are not mine; next to yours
Not in twine.
I can't look at texts and hearts
When hearts take us back to starts
Of what we had
And what we have
And what we will have
Is nothing but post modern art;
Little bits of writings
And rhymings that don’t rhyme because my heart cant keep a beat
And my beats cant keep up with your schedule.
Ow lover of roses
I can't see the red in your pedals
I just envision me pedaling away;
I can't see the red in your tender touches
I witness the tender touches caressing the redness off of someone else's eyes;
I can't;
See you and me in a room,
Talking about nothing
Yet infesting in void conversations about the nothingness of what we got
I can't;
See the tips of teeth when you smile
I can see the tips of teeth when you're truculent;
Trucks,
Exiting and transiting
Through my arteries
While I'm sitting
And spitting
Lame poetry
As you snap chats with shots of nonchalant lens-like tentacles,
Rapped round around the sound of dust
My heart is echoing
Following a path you've set.
Ow lover of roses
Cried the lonely man
In a so lonesome night,
As he looks at the stars and moon
Realize the missing lines
And the misinterpreted patterns
To pattern Saturn with Venus and Mars down to earth;
Proving pitiful love-like lures
Luring man since birth.
Ow lover of roses,
Roses in the shape of smarties or sandals
Or chocolate cakes with no candles
I cant handle,
The scent you send with roses that bend
To fall in my hand
And end up plucked in the end.
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
they kind of
look like little
pills
wouldn't it
be nice
if
they
were?
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
Lost looking for something?
A friends idea of fun?
Just a little pick me up
To make the evening fun!
Something in tablet form
Or a cheeky little bag?
A quick sniff and it's In you
Or swallowed with your drink
You've no idea what you took
But now the ceilings pink
The room is spinning wildly
You eyes begin to blink
The sounds all become louder
The noise is just intense
What was the magic tablet
Your boyfriend made you take
Well paracetomol crushed
Mixed with kitchen cleaner
The high your now experiencing
Isn't getting better
Your organs all are poisoned
Beginning to shut down
The paramedics calls your name
But your answer won't come out
Tomorrow on the table your parents look at you
Before the post mortem looks inside too
Major ***** failure one after the other
Poisoned by a legal high
That didn't work for you
So read this and learn it isn't made up
I saw her in resus, when I was a young cop
He boyfriend went to prison he said he gave it her
So off you pop now have a drink
Dance and paint the town
But don't take any smarties
Offered by your chums!
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
Tell me:
When did blowing bubbles
Turn into blowing smoke?
When did soda
Turn into *****
When did pool parties
Turn into late-night skinny dipping?
When did Smarties
Turn into hydros?
When did sneakers
Turn into high heals?
When did cheek kisses
Turn into ***
When did juice boxes
Turn into cheap beer?
When did bikes
Turn into cars?
Tell me:
When did growing up
Turn into this?
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
It's a sheepy love,
making me go 'baa',
as I look on you in awe.
The way you talk,
I can't help but flock to ya..
Your voice is more than a bleat,
it makes me feel complete,
knowing you and I are real.
They can call us sheeple,
but I never cared about them,
so let's meet at the steeple.
It's mad to me to think I
ever doubted or distrusted you.
I must have been like a lost lamb
or a stray sheep searching
when all I ever really wanted
was just to have you, oh ewe.
But what can I say, really,
sheep aren't smarties,
but we make good sweaters,
so won't you hold me close,
like I was your pillow?
Let's have a sheepy love,
the sweetest love of them all.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
November is a month
i dread, all the marking...
all the words ..... ideas
clutter up in my head....
all the hopes and ambitions
weigh heavily on my back.
the first day, my birthday
hip hip hooray!!!
then a rushing, pell mell
downward track
of red pens and meetings
going on and on and on
planning, prepping, late night stressing
then, when not at work,
not shirking, just not working
hoping to give the brain a rest
am bombarded...
like i am ******** in cheer
...continual messages of
christmas is near....
coffee and carols,
shopping and angels
harking, harking,
joy to the world, fa al lalala...
Santa queues
truly not an Ebeneezer
but Christmas teasers
in November make me grey
around the gills
fish out of water
lamb to the slaughter
and running on empty,
always empty,
just want one day...
when the world
would stop hassling
and just go away
no end of year parties...
prentending to be hale and hearty
with all sorts of colleagues
and academic smarties
no presentations of budgets..
thinner than last
no we could not fast
this area, to be on line
no it's alright, it will be just fine
while sculling copious amounts
of cheap, cheap, nasty red wine.
no hangover from said feast...
no, you be the one to corner the beast.
no more standing with mothers and others
watching children in a god awful christmas play
and clapping and chatting while little bettsy
recieves an award for knitting a sleeve
and george gets one for adding fourhundred and forty
please, please show me the door.....
not to mention hayfever,
daylight savings and more
but all this seems trivial...
when I consider
the blight of my life...
in the stakes of annuity.
the month of November has a great heart
Movember...a charity of moustache art
has an fanatic in my big, bluff,bloke
for a month he curries and cares for the
caterpillar that grows on his lip...
a fuzzy flecked monstrosity
with the mange and a weird flip.
November a month of avoiding
the succour of contact....
with that thing,
my toes curl now
thinking of it....
tho I try not to react
(after all charity begins at home)
november november
truly you are the ***
last year he bought
the ****** thing a comb
yet in the end
you are but a month
and it seems I survive you
year after year
thank god for take away meals
and long cold beers....
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
Deepakshi,Mahima,Shivi,Siddhi,Kshma,Shreya,Kanishka
I wish we tie until we die.
Even after death we become ghosts and tie,
I wish even after death we tie.
Those memories together I wish they don't die,
I wish we tie until we die.
Kinshuk,Kartik,Ansh, Rajat, Abhay,Amit,Sahil,Yuvraj,
My brothers I wish we make the strongest bond.
I wish we tie until we die.
Time would pass but memories don't die,
I wish we die until we die.
Lunch during lectures,gossip while teachers teaching, punishment altogether, those morning assemblies.
I wish those memories remain after times flies.
I wish we tie until we die.
Akash and Tanmay of our class are smarties
They solve our fights and our the entertainers.
Deepakshi,Mahima,Kanishka thanks for this adorable friendship of yours.
Siddhi our fights big or small I am sorry for all.
Your friendship gave me many memories thanks for all.
Shivi your caring nature gave me to learn a lot,
Shruti in class I really miss you a lot.
Kshma I love your company sis,
And you will be very successful one day I know this.
Shreya you are a great companion
And a great chatter box.
I love your company a lot.
Kinshuk Amit your are the best brother I got,
and I really love you a lot.
Yuvi Rajat Abhay brothers thanks for the support I got,
And i really appreciate it a lot.
Kartik,Ansh in class you are really missed a lot,
Brothers I really love you a lot.
Thanks for this adorable friendship you all,
I really love it a lot.
I wish we tie until we die
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 6:51 AM UTC
If you can’t trust your foremost-born son
But think of him as if he doesn’t care
If you can’t see the damage, been done
And carry on as if it’s yours to bear
If you can’t see the truth laid before you
But see the story filled with lies
And think that all the pain is for you
And think that you’re the one that cries
If you can’t see the innocent parties
Before you push away all hope
Before you chew them down – like smarties
Then leave and slowly start to lope
If you can’t see the fear you produce
In those that want and need you near
If you can’t hear the silence let loose
Nor see the dry and shriveled tear
If you can’t stop and change the angle
If you can’t see another’s side
If you can’t let your mind untangle
And push your twisted thoughts aside
If you can’t see a loyal person
If you can’t feel the prayers and blessings
Then that is why it will always worsen
As blindness will stop your life progressing
If you can’t see a family, loyal
If you can’t see someone to trust
None of us are godlike – royal
But we are all still faithful, just
If you can’t feel the help we offer
And realise what you truly had
You’ll lose it all to the garden coffer
Except the love I have for you, dad
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
Punctured, she remains bruised.
Looking left, the back of her hand
She begins, to remember that day.
It began with the box, old shoes
Nestled within, lay the excess meds.
It wasn't planned, she was certain.
Sitting on the bathroom floor, she opens
A cupboard where, the box kept
A thousand magic smarties, pink.
They were sugar coated, laughing
She thought about how, her heart
Her very soul, its sadness
So often wrapped a bow around,
Her hurt & pain, beneath the skin,
The surface, oh such depths of despair.
No one ever knew, the girl behind,
A red ruby lipped smile.
She took the box, a chipped mug
Drinking morning tea, phone quiet
This was 2010, pre iPhone for her
She simply text and dialled, hello.
Without any force, she started to count
One, two, three, as easy as,
This cup of tea beside her thigh,
No thoughts raced, no fixed grounding
Just the addiction to take one more.
And as the pills, rattled,
She began to feel the rattle within.
Handfuls, of the very drug
That was intended, to calm her
In these moments,
And yet,
She was calm, and she doesn't recall
A single tear.
Regular lunch break checks,
Mother and father calling,
A call to a psychiatrist, busy in clinic.
It wasn't a cry, it was to ask,
Why should I stop Jaya?
Mothers maybe know too much
And as quickly as I put,
The phone down, it rings.
By this point I'm sedated, uncompromising and incomprehensible,
I am told I slurred and denied all.
I recall a panicked voice and a mother,
Refusing to put the phone down.
I remember a bang on the front door.
I remember a black Ralph Lauren t'shirt,
My brothers.
And it's all I wore.
Knickers and a t'shirt.
I cowered in a corner of the hall,
Medics and police, and I'm terrified.
A blank search in my brain.
I go into a coma and my only memory is,
Waking in a distant place, plugged up
Machines and monitors beeping
And the soft gentle voice of,
My mother; Rachel!
Her hand so warm,
having held mine all the time,,
I took residence in this,
Hospital
Bed.
I'm alive.
© Sia Jane
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
I am from grease,
From Valvoline and mineral oil
I am from green grass surrounded by dead trees
(Heady, damp, somehow always smelling of jasmine and mint)
I am from lilies,
Tempered and beautiful in her rage
I am from perseverance and moxie
From Lyons and Rob
I’m from the never cries and please no secrets
From death is imminent and shrill screams of my name
I’m from losing my faith to an illness, it that stole more than an ***** from me
I’m from chocolate turtles and Smarties, from pixie stick dusk wafting up my nose
From the ghost of my mother in the kitchen cooking, to her ghost that envelopes my soul
The colors cut and healed beneath her skin that I caress carefully,
The ink faded on her wrist as she succumbs to lividity
My grandmother holding her picture as she weeps quietly,
Her voice dichotic in my ears as I watch videos on a screen
Those photos, her headstone, grounding me deeply into my grief, like a needle piercing cracked jewels into my mind
Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 6:54 PM UTC
Hanging out with smarties
At red plastic cup parties
Thinking they’re so cool
But they’re actually fools.
Skipping most of the classes
Since intellectuals are *****
They clump and swarm like bugs
To compete with their drugs.
Who can last the longest and
Who is the most available
To do the chanciest behavior
And end drunk under a table?
The worst thing to ever be
Is seen as a party pooper
And not partying hardy is
Totally radical and super.
Pay someone to take your tests
Just like the timeless precedent.
Acting just like all the rest
Means popularity is heaven sent.
Later you’ll get hired for sure
For coming from the right school.
They’ll never guess you’re a dunce
A ne’er do well and a fool.
Hanging out with smarties
At red plastic cup parties
Thinking they’re so cool
But they’re actually fools.
Skipping most of the classes
Since intellectuals are *****
They clump and swarm like bugs
To compete with their drugs.
Just like you care about fashion
You will buy the proper clothes.
You’ll slide in via the Old Boy Club
And come out smelling like a rose.
And since most people spend time
Paying for statues they have erected,
You’ll get yours all in good time
Because that’s who gets elected.
Then if you do what you’re told
And vote for the right corporation
You’ll get those many perks
They promised before graduation.
Just sit quietly and take the bribes
And say as little as you can
You will be what we call today
An extremely important man.
Hanging out with smarties
At red plastic cup parties
Thinking they’re so cool
But they’re actually fools.
Skipping most of the classes
Since intellectuals are *****
They clump and swarm like bugs
To compete with their drugs.
This works for women as well,
But it’s not nearly as speedy.
Really the fat cats would prefer
You go be counsel for the needy.
But as long as you are quiet,
Agree with all the guys are doing.
You can act just like a man
And contribute to the general ruin.
Hanging out with smarties
At red plastic cup parties
Thinking they’re so cool
But they’re actually fools.
Skipping most of the classes
Since intellectuals are *****
They clump and swarm like bugs
To compete with their drugs.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 10:49 PM UTC
some people
are just
not very smart.
i'm talking adults.
they just don't have the
it, the
thing
that all the smarties
seem to have.
but they do seem
to talk a good game.
a key component is missing.
things don't add up.
and it's a
strange thing to witness,
to come to terms with,
to accept.
but let me tell you
the strangest thing
the most maddening of things:
observing other people
who you otherwise know
as smart people
fall prey
to one of the dummies.
the liars.
the snakes in the grass.
observing you
in this state of
sickness
and dementia
and delusion
is unreal.
you don't seem to be aware
that you are sick at all.
and in watching the
contortions you will make
for this fraud,
i see that stance
you have taken
on me.
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC
Magic is a lost art form
It crawls through your mind like a worm
So many papers written about it for the end of the term
All striving for once single goal to learn learn learn
It might make you get a perm
Causing a riot and making you turn
Give that monkey a new bread crumb
Or he'll succumb to being obnoxiously dumb
But it will probably happen anyway
Because the monkey listens to the fray
While his mother goes home to pray
That his father doesn't travel far away
From his family or his favorite friends
But on his job it all depends
On which locations are best for him
Going by the name of Edward Tim
Who use to frequent his home gym
He Crushed on hot girls named Kim
Kim loved to crash Tim's wonderful parties
Shooting up with a pack of Smarties
Tim wanted her to be a lady
Tim wanted her to be a lady
Because she was pregnant with Tim's baby
Although her mother wanted her to give it up maybe
However Kim wanted to name her baby Sadie.
Tim wanted to name it after his mother.
Kim wanted to name it after her brother.
Both of decided because of each other that it was getting quite dim
With such fuss between Tim and Kim they settled on a name that was another
And prayed that their son would not be dumb
Then he wouldn't be any fun for Kim or Tim
The fat rat sat flat on may's bat
While the sun shined you'll find some fun before the day is done said the trees which they mimed and chimed
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 7:59 PM UTC
Normalcy?, what the **** is that! When you ran around the block in a t- shirt and those vintage laced ******* screaming "an eclipse isn't to be had!,an eclipse isn't to be had!", what did I do? I stood there, I stood there and waited patiently for you to come inside. The bottle was still corked, the venison covered and the album of the evening (Ok Computer) turned down. Nooooooo!!!! Was that good enough, Nope!, I think not. You reluctantly came inside because you had to **** but not before you babbled a few one liners from every ******* motion picture we ever saw together. Remember that time on the cliffs when we almost lost it all and the car was hanging on 2 tires off the edge, remember what you said to me? I do,... you leaned over in that bright flowered day dress that barely covered your body and you whispered in my ear. "feel me breathe, feel me breath baby." and that's when I first took you.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
A good day is when youre singing in the car and your brother shouts every lyric. Its blasting NSINC and pretending that you're justin and he's...one of the other guys. It's reminding him of a time he stole a Hillary Duff CD from your sister because it was his guilty pleasure.
A good day is hearing him laugh again. Its looking into his eyes and not finding the devil. its seeing the ashes of a wildfire and knowing that there are trees still standing, that he is still standing and his legs are done shaking and he may have a few branches missing but he's willing to grow new ones.
A good day is being hit until you name five candy bars. Snickers, Twix, Hersheys, sour patch kids..wait. no. See, its so hard to think when your head is a pack of smarties. Does he remember when he taught you how to crush them and inhale the powder? Your first blunt was the sweetest but he was looking for a different high.
A good day is having him ask about your record player as if he's never seen one before. As if everything is new to him, as if he's missed a whole lifetime. He tells you that its like falling asleep and waking up to a different sky and wondering how long it's been that way. Its staring into a mirror to watch your eyes dilate, its watching them change colors and remembering how they used to be.
He tells you that he wants every day to be a good day. That this time will be different. He tells you that its been 5 days and he's still counting but all you can think of is the last.. day 5; Hearing your mothers phone ring and knowing who it is even though its a blocked number. You think of day 10 and all the sweat he laid shaking in. Day 15, when you saw him for the first time in 3 months and his smile for the first time in years. He tells you about the friends he's made and laughs about the brick wall he hangs out with outside. He says that even though there's a piece of glass between you, he's never felt so free.
You think of day 35 and the three phone calls you missed and you remember picking up the 4th one. When he told you that he was sorry. That he tried but couldn't reach you. He tells you that he went for plan B, he tells you that he found an old friend that always picks up and how he forgot why they stopped talking in the first place.
You tell him that youre sorry. You tell him that your head was stuck in smarties and you've been hoarding candy bars for months.
Day one; You put a lighter to wrappers and your eyes are a wildfire.
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
a few years back i used to cry in front of a mirror
so i could see how puffy my face would get
or how red my eyes would become
in order to determine how pretty i truly was
my first (and only) boyfriend texted me and said
"i'm going through a lot, let's take a break"
he's been dating a girl who was my friend for three years now
but we're still on a break, aren't we?
there are eight empty boxes of halloween candy Smarties
scattered around my computer right now
my garbage can is filled with wrappers
i wasn't even hungry
why hasn't anyone ever loved me?
i mean, i have good musical taste
and i care so much about people
maybe too much, i don't know
my sister is the favourite
i mean, she's a lawyer so, makes sense
she's going to NYC
maybe i can be the favourite then
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC
So strange, it was dark in the white room
People pondered over marshmallow figures all stood in a straight line
That one at the end, it has eyes
So it has
Godlike, we bow in awe
Hundreds and thousands applaud in unison
Chocolate legions stand routed
The eyes have vanished
Death searches in the night
Jelly baby heads abandoned as mothers cry in colour
Candy fish lead the cortege as the night floats downstream
One jelly baby saved
Adopted Tobleronian
Somethings brewing
Death in the afternoon
God speaks
Go forth to jelly mountain
Hundreds and thousands follow
Tobleronians in hot pursuit
Parting of the waves
Plague the Pharaohs army
He leaves the smarties
To climb jelly mountain
God gifts him tablet for the journey down
The smarties have built a chocolate idol
Furious he breaks the tablet in two
With the Tobleronians on one side
Smarties on the other
He came to his only conclusion on jelly mountain
You just can't get the Staff.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
Remember when you started high school?
Mom said I already had you gone.
But now it's really happening,
So see these words and remember
All that we've done together
Because life with you is all I’ve known.
Remember all of those long drives?
Somehow you never got sick:
To Ripon, Iowa, and Alabama
And "how many hours left?"
Remember Christmas at our house?
Putting up the tree
All the UPS elves in a row
A warm Christmas in the pool.
Remember playing together?
Fun occasions (but rare)
Games like Eagle Eye,
And playing legos in your room.
Remember going to Papa's concerts?
Before we were even in them
Sitting with mom in the back
Eating smarties to keep us happy.
Pick a favorite song and mark it
To let Papa know when we could;
Stopping at Dairy Queen with the others
And getting home way too late.
Remember the day Chloë came?
We lay in that waterbed.
I wanted the name Samantha,
But we got a life of change instead.
Remember all the summers at the beach?
Coming home with sand in our hair;
Going hiking to return tired,
Staying out late hanging with friends.
Waiting for my birthday:
Knowing what dinner will be.
Remember spinning until we fell?
I always seemed to get dizzy;
And savoring ice-cream
As though it was our very last meal.
Remember dinners all alone?
Eating mac n cheese or leftovers.
Playing music on blast,
Just the three kids at home.
Remember going to youth group?
We go farther as a team.
I got my name up first;
Although it took some ****** knuckles.
Remember all the memories we made together?
I’ll never forget each one
For each means something different
And something special
Even when you go there'll be more
So come back soon to make them.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC