Queen Bee

she sits on her throne

high and mighty

never over thrown

seemly mighty

 

lies and deception

thats her romance

her lover to be?

the next decision.

 

her organized payments

raising the charge

and requiring more

of the worker bees yards

 

she thirsts for more honey

the worker bees

breaking their backs

lending their wings

taking stings

they say “What does this bring?!”

desperation rings

causing ridiculous flings

the hive as a whole

continually down grading

but nature will forever sing

long may she live, the queen bee

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Eraser

a blank page is set

then comes a sketch

one, line, then another

and mistakes shaded over

some mistakes cant be fixed, only erased

may the artist make the best of what they create

not all faults are to be embellished

stop creating

start erasing

for the blank page has its limits

one fatal mishap then shall the picture be forever scarred

lines

even the eraser fails to relinquish

could it be the eraser should meet its match?

could it be defeated by even the smallest scratch?

Addiction

How is it that it controls my being?
Why is it that I can’t survive a day without it?
Why is it so much a part of me?
Like it’s my heartbeat
A required part for my breathing
I dread the days it leaves me
Gasping for air
Heaving
It is my drug
If it dissipates
Withdrawals run through my veins
It’s in my blood
It is a part of my soul
It is me
It completes me and makes me whole
It soothes my anger
It calms me in disaster
It takes me away when I don’t want to live any longer
It pumps me up when times are rough and I need a boost
What would I do?
Without this addiction?
My mood may never be soothed,
Smoothed,
Renewed…
From the ruffles
And struggles
That form over time
That come into my life
When I am overcome with the nostalgia of the past
Things I don’t want to remember that can’t be taken back
Things that I wish never crossed my mind
And things that I know will fade over time
But I can’t help but relinquish the fact it can’t be taken back
And that regret and pain is where it’s at
That’s where the struggles are
It’s from those things that I have my scars
And even though I am bound by chains of penance
This thing
This addiction
Cures it
It makes me forget why I relent it
But it is a temporary heal
It only last for a few minutes
So the need for more and more of this drug
Has become more and more a necessity
I can’t stop now
It is a part of me
And I wish that others can see
That I am not crazy
And this thing isn’t a monste
It is something that I am attached to
Like a bear cub and its mother
When predators attack and that cub is hurt
That mother comes and violently kills all the perverts
That spit at the cub
And give their hate speech
Leaving that cub to fall on its back
Losing a grip of the earth under its feet
When will it end?
All the torment
When will I live again?
Without having to shoot this drug into my body
When will I breathe again?
Without a cord running into me
When will I begin to be happy? When?
When!?
Today?
No.
Today is gone and over with?
Tomorrow?
No. I am too addicted
Next week?
Next month?
Next year?
When?
Never…
Because that drug is what keeps me alive

Why I Write

So you wonder why I write?
Well I will tell you all about it tonight.
I will tell you
Why I have a blog for poetry
And why I write it on paper before typing
I will tell you why every poem I have I post
And alongside that I will explain what party I will host
You will hear that my favorite app is called WordPress
Easy and quick to upload my rhymes from my creativeness
You will learn why I play my guitar everyday
And why Call Of Duty is one of my favorite games to play
Why potatoes make me sick
And why I can easily get carsick
Potatoes and peas alone will make me want throw up
But mix them together and I’m guaranteed to upchuck.
Just some random stuff about me I will tell you tonight
And when I’m through speaking you will find out why I write.

Notebook & Phone

me and my best friend were talking the other night. i remember the question popped up “if your house caught on fire, what would you grab?”. she said her notebook and phone. i said the same thing. then we agreed on why we’d grab those first, because of our writings. our poems and ideas, journal entries, songs and short stories. i have a special notebook that i write all my drafts in. and my phone i use to publish and save them. with my jotterpad app, and my wordpress app, having my notebook and phone i will be set.

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