Cool wind blows
Autumn's herald harkens
Balls sweat no more
this post was submitted on 25 Aug 2025
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No poem has ever instilled such wistful hope in me before
And as the leaves fall, I am falling for them.
Fuck this shit
I want out
Let me go
Home
Written like a man at work on a slow day!
We need rain, I'm told.
It rains, complaints grow tenfold.
The rain disrupts the soil, the soul disrupted in turn.
Roses are dead, Violets are dead, I suck at gardening.
With practice makes⦠ah, yes, of course, more dead flowers.
π nooo I can change
Fucking fuck. Fuck me dude. Fucking hell I swear. Fuck
That's fucking beautiful, dude.
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Every day is another test. I forgot my #2 pencil.
"#2" is two words. But dropping either "I" or "pencil" would work.
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everything you do matters, except all the bathroom splatters. shit.
They matter to me when I go in there to pee.
Calm and contented For nothing happened today. I am satisfied
I lack the wit, so I can't rhyme for shit.
The poems
I wrote,
I love 'em
but I'm broke.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Poetry is hard to
The glowing sun projects its rays, consciousness reflects the age.
My mind slows, but the world hastens with every day.
There are two or three and sometimes four? Potentially... more.
Sometimes less is best.
If all is zero, nothing is.
In the night we can't see an absence of light
Hobby horse, eat a cake Jump around, break your leg
Horse, if you didnβt devour cake, youβd still have leg.
It only has one leg. It's a hobby horse.
Hodor hodor hodor,
Hodor hodor.
Hodor hodor hodor,
Hodor hodor.
Hands upon fretboard
Staring quietly
Playing frippery
Three truthless chords
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Today is Dog. Yesterday was Water. Tomorrow will be Monkey.
darkness falls
on old days of life
of a fool
The clock ticks on. Though, the promised hour never comes.
Crushing reality, Hurtling towards destruction. I need to do more.
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