Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

The Postcard Shop (Free verse) by Fear of Garbage
Stop telling me it's 9:12. I know. I've called you, I've seen your stony flowery hands, pointless, Pointless aren't you? Stop burning yourself. Here. Take this cup. Spit. You are not so useless, not so far far from home, are you? When you smoke I get giggly. Ring after ring of jewels, pink ones, plastic ones on your skin. You could be a character, one on a motorcycle, fire, police chief. You take me for the pain. Step up. Stop crying. I watch you from behind the postcards. I am not one of your influences. Ring in ring, you only lock in with yourself, So pointless, so pointless by yourself. You Do not step up, or ever ever ever stop crying. Stop telling me it's 9:12. Stop burning yourself. Foolish. I should be your only influence. You are useless, pointless and far far from home It's not them you are afraid of.

Back to poem details

zodiac69.132.67.14010December 13, 2005 5:19 AM PST
xxx68.166.37.1850June 15, 2005 5:02 PM PDT
lastobelus80.132.178.1126February 1, 2004 5:58 PM PST
<~>64.252.17.36August 19, 2003 9:07 PM PDT
Bachus24.126.113.15410August 19, 2003 7:40 PM PDT



Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001