I can't comprehend,
the words my mouth lend,
whose appropriateness is refutable,
and rarely, to ears, suitable.
But I don't mind,
better to to know than want to find.
And so long as I curse with confliction,
not curse with conviction...
nah.
Screw this world,
screw all love,
piss-off expectations,
and fuck this God above.
Screw all people with the annoying tone,
who prove it's much better,
to be fucking alone.
Damn you sorrow,
go die in a hole, strife.
I'll have a sucky tomorrow,
so fuck my life!
Sweet release of anger,
through a long cursing clangor!
It feels a lot better,
than making a noose with a hanger.
Better say "screw all that",
than destroy with a bat,
or "fuck my life",
than slit with a knife.
But even so it's
six second satisfaction,
only lasting through tension,
simply a problem's mention.
It never lasts,
it vanishes fast,
returning back,
within a flash,
to feelings old,
as if never expressed,
as if never told,
and again I'm depressed.
So to shoo! the pain,
instead I say,
to keep a smile,
to save my day:
That's just this world,
that's just all love,
that's just expectations
and that's just the God above.
That's just all people
with the annoying tone,
who prove it's much better,
to be gladly alone.
That's just sorrow,
and that's just strife.
There's no easy tomorrow,
but that's just life.
YOU ARE READING
CLUCK NO
PoetryA collection of both emotional and humorous poems about growing up and other frustrating parts of life that'll sound alright in your head, but just plain stupid out loud. !!!WARNING!!! This is not a compilation of chicken poems.
