Fuck this shit
I want out
Let me go
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Fuck this shit
I want out
Let me go
Home
Written like a man at work on a slow day!
Cool wind blows
Autumn's herald harkens
Balls sweat no more
No poem has ever instilled such wistful hope in me before
And as the leaves fall, I am falling for them.
Roses are dead, Violets are dead, I suck at gardening.
With practice makes⦠ah, yes, of course, more dead flowers.
π nooo I can change
We need rain, I'm told.
It rains, complaints grow tenfold.
The rain disrupts the soil, the soul disrupted in turn.
What even is a poem?
I never understood art really...
I see what you did there sir
Don't tell me
What to do
You're not my dad
Shit, ten words spot on
Fucking fuck. Fuck me dude. Fucking hell I swear. Fuck
Dude I cracked lol
That's fucking beautiful, dude.
everything you do matters, except all the bathroom splatters. shit.
They matter to me when I go in there to pee.
Calm and contented
For nothing happened today.
I am satisfied
Every day is another test. I forgot my #2 pencil.
And yet, with no pencil in hand, wisdom is espoused.
Seriously, this one was great. You should remember it always.
Life is too short
Make of it
What you can
Do not dawdle,
but do not become married
to work.
Make amends with your friends,
lest they meet unfortunate ends.
I lack the wit, so I can't rhyme for shit.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Poetry is hard to
There are two or three and sometimes four? Potentially... more.
Sometimes less is best.
If all is zero, nothing is.
The glowing sun projects its rays, consciousness reflects the age.
My mind slows, but the world hastens with every day.
In the night we can't see an absence of light
Hobby horse, eat a cake Jump around, break your leg
The poems
I wrote,
I love 'em
but I'm broke.
Hodor hodor hodor,
Hodor hodor.
Hodor hodor hodor,
Hodor hodor.
Crushing reality, Hurtling towards destruction. I need to do more.
Today is Dog. Yesterday was Water. Tomorrow will be Monkey.
Hands upon fretboard
Staring quietly
Playing frippery
Three truthless chords