Free verse № 134625
Snake in the Grass
(Beware Of Those With Big Ears and Padded Souls)
Call me dramatic, call me what you will
Its my own damn fault, for letting my thoughts spill
Pour whatever venom you have currently residing in your mouth
But know that unlike the others I'm not blinded by the south
I'm listening and your every breath is a puzzle piece
Locking together the components of a weapon demanding release
Held in wait by a double sided devil and a deep rooted fear of death
Until that final glorious moment when the both of us have nothing left
Then shall I bare the blade that cuts rivers in flesh and lines snow
Slicing at your throat as the weather brings your nose to blow
So that you may sneak your last poisons into my broken head
And I may smile as they lay you in your final bed
Thinking thoughts of a dark parade to set your remains in some tomb
You, the waste who would have been better wasted inside the womb
So that want might be replaced with wonder for what you might be
Yet instead we the world were allowed to see
Snake in the grass, Your time has come and is long past
The only question left is, How long will the rabbit's restraint last
8 comments
This is simply awful. Between this and Dovina's Hollidday poem, I'm wondering if there's any America left to come home to.
Everything I write is awful. I could steal the writer's digest annual poetry competition's 1st place entry and you'd still think it was awful. I have 2 words for you, drop dead. It'd be far better than coming back here, where like it or not, your part of a warmachine controlled by a man whose snorted more coke at one time than most people will ever see in a lifetime.
Go fuck yourself. Everything you write is awful because where anybody else would have taken some of his readers' advice and stopped writing the same crap with the same mistakes all the fucking time, you seem to have preferred sticking your head in a clothes dryer and hitting 'Go'.
As for the rest of that, fuck you too. I was having a bad day when I read your last comment and I'm have a worse one today. As for writing the same crap, I'm fucking 21. Lot of life experiance that gives me huh? Same mistakes, how ever will I know that they are mistakes unless someone points them out to me(Besides the dryer doesn't even fucking start until you close the door, and we both know my head is way to big to let the dryer close)?
Sorry I snapped, but oh well, goto hell, and the whatever else
Later Daze
<3 Jason
This is a story about a girl.
While at the funeral of her own mother, she met a guy whom she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing, so much the dream guy that she was searching for that she fell in love with him immediately.
However, she never asked for his name or number and afterward could not find anyone who knew who he was.
A few days later the girl killed her own sister.
Question: Why did she kill her sister?
1. Mental instability, perhaps a long standing grude, and opportunity.
The Stab in the Dark Answer
2. The man was her sister
A further Stab in the Dark Answer
3. The man was her sister and she fucked him before being told his true identity
A far fetched idea
4. It's really complicated and involves being ones own grandmother type shit. I'm sure you don't want to even hear that one.
And my honest answer
5. I have no fucking clue
The psychopathic answer: She killed her sister in the hope that he'd show up at yet another family funeral.
So congrats, you're not a psycho. Maybe a little schizoid with the multiple answers and all but most of us here are a little wacky like that.
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