"wierdo" poems
Of course as I have an entire life left to live I am wondering what you ate for breakfast.
You ate a chicken quesadilla.
For breakfast???
...wierdo...
but at least I know now
the suspense was killing me.
Now I can't help but wonder what you did today...
Any photos???
You went the bathroom???
GET OUT!!!!
And of course, I want to hear your 'inspirational' (recycled) quote of the day.
"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
(classically overused)
MAN THAT GOT ME SO INSPIRED
I WAS SO SAD BUT READING THAT MADE ME FEEL 100 TIMES BETTER!!
20 likes
WOW YOU ARE A GODDESS!
YOU CHANGED YOUR PROFILE PICTURE????
SCOOOOOOREEEE!!!!
Woah, you look so pretty, you did such a good job with the editing (there is a lot of it).
You look nothing like that in person.....
I like your bra...by the way...
10 likes in 3 minutes!!
DUDE
THIS IS LIVING!!!!
Well enjoy your life with the constant need for approval...
Lets see where that takes you...
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 6:07 PM UTC
I'm a ******
I look at blue skies,
Yearning for gray.
Oh, baby, I'm a ******
I dream to be great,
and Stick myself in the Mundane.
**** I guess I'm a ******
I need a woman,
Keep myself well locked away.
Turned out I was a ******
I loved you so much,
But it led you to profane my...
I've always known I was a wierdo...
Apathy never seemed anything but pleasing,
Not since I buried my heart,
Now I close my eyes, in front of my friends,
A ****** Unabetted thoughts racing through my head,
It's just another
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
1.
The rain is falling on the neighbourhood,
Our garden takes its share, and my good hat;
Out of the border shelter of its brood
A snail creeps in the wet across the path
Leaving the soaking flowerbed for the grass
Seeking continuation of its good,
Slow through the time a timeless quest for food
Elaborates the beating of its heart.
The creep is me, a wierdo what I am.
What am I doing here? I don’t belong here,
Enchained upon the dirt, constrained responder
Bellyfoot, headfoot mollusc, unmoving clam
I try to stir from where I first began,
Make in the gulf’s depths one thing new appear.
2.
A drought within my throat, an aching head,
Stoically for this world’s shock wave I brace.
The life which thus far has my spirit fed
Despairs, yet faithfully girds itself to face
The waste and rapine of this nightmare place
Where theft under coercion’s always bred
Mass victims all unjustly ***** and fled,
Violated to their utmost inner space.
What is the soul to do with this its life?
Awakened from the nothing of a sleep
One time? To local manners keep?
Or for some travel, hard to purpose drive
By that for longer to at least survive?
It’s wet again. The snails are on the creep.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
I'm sorry,
I don't know how, to make amends
I'm far too sensitive, see too much
To have any "friends"
My mistakes,
Ingraved, in stone
I can never be forgiven,
Nor left alone
For these strange sins,
I cannot atone
Like the water,
That so loves the moon
Someone like me,
Can never dance in tune
Wierdo,
Beneath all others
I, am well aware,
But please, when I pass by
Could you kindly not stare
Do me this favor, just look away
As I'm well aware of my mistakes
And I know, I can never fit,
In this life of only "takes"
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
Why read a book?
People say for entertainment
Or to learn things
For me, simply it is
To feel and to be somewhere
If you're like me
And you don't have a life
It often gets boring and sometimes...
depressing.
There's nothing that feels more fulfilling
than to have a book in front of you
You read and the words **** you into the novel
The rest of the world dissolves away
Reading makes me feel hopeful
That someday
I'll have a life of my own
Maybe I'm just one of those characters
who start out being loners
And later have adventures of their own
with their remarkable wierdo friends
and fall in love and such...
I don't know
Who can tell?
When you read,
It feels like anything is possible
I can't be that optimistic in real life
But when I read, I don't loose hope
Reality can be a ****** sometimes
But you don't always have to deal with it
Escape! If you can afford it
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Child sitting in the wind.
Poetic motion to ease his troubled mind.
His best work at hand.
Love life's troubled.
Girl he loves,
Troubled.
School life is going south.
Bullied by his parents.
Tough life he's living.
Misunderstood.
Suicidal as ****
Viewed as some wierdo schmuck.
He writes
They read.
He swears beauty doesnt last
He's seen it all before.
Comes up with his name
bleeding diamonds
This name holds himself more power
More meaning.
Zach seemed to have been forgotten.
And all thats left his the wind and his poems.
His life
Seems helpless.
Girls seem uninterested
Whats there to love about him?
He was always forced into secrecy
Never won a girl's heart in his life
Wanted the best
Only as b.d he knew
How to share who he was
Only one best friend
Only two talents.
One: writing
Two: screamo.
Put them together.
Some type of fan base?
Are you?
No.
Maybe
Let him bleed the diamonds
He needs to bleed
To be
heard
understood
loved
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC