A rotting mouth and a sore ass,
A slouched back while passing gas.
A lit screen of endless colour,
Acting as an icecream parlour.
Attention is given without a thought,
A way to pass time is what he sought.
All the while, he was wasting his time,
Assuming his life, was worth just a dime.
All the people around him, speed right on,
As if his whole life, had just gone.
A cobweb sways in the corner of his room,
All because he's too lazy, to grab a broom.
At last the day has come to an end,
Arms in the air and trying to bend.
A poem he writes, while tucked in bed,
About the day, that he seemed dead.
YOU ARE READING
Words of Time: A Collection of Poems Throughout The Years
PoetryA collection of poems from my early years, up to the present. Many are about love, but also family, friends, life in general, as well as the struggles many of us face as we discover ourselves. #Wattys2016 #Wattys2019 *Note: Stories with an asterisk...
