You know what you are,
With your ignorance and strain,
The miserable stench,
Of all your pain,
Causing a rift making,
A horrid valley,
Created by argument,
And chosen folly,
You stand there like,
A living statue,
Adding no goodness,
To your values,
Clinging onto misery,
Like a comfort blanket,
If you can still feel,
Your head I’ll lamp it!
I hope inside that,
You still live,
Or do you think that,
Your life’s down a sieve,
You dismiss thoughts,
That to you are strange,
Old man to me,
It’s clear, you fear change!
You still decide,
To lay in your bed,
You wannabe corpse,
You want to be dead,
Thus the way you lie
And lay, you’ve chosen to rot,
So from now on,
I will call you “Fleshling Doorstop!”
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: April 18th, 2017 10:07
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem was written after a frustrating journey back home, where I saw a passenger who left a lot to be desired. Not only was he rude, he tried his absolute best not to help more vulnerable passengers through kindness and common sense, and he generally displayed a horrible antisocial conduct which is tearing quite a big hole in local and national communities. Due to my disgust towards this "Fleshling Doorstop", the poem has an aggressive meter and therefore can also be labeled a rap. I Hope you enjoy, and I hope he will change!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 38
Offline)
Comments3
Nicely written, good choice of words got me thinking.
Well written and exptessed great write
good flow and meter nice work Auburn! ww
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