We used to be so friendly.
We used to be so close.
All the letters you sent me.
How the words easily flowed.
Now the thought of you offends me.
By Paul Crocker3 years ago in Poets
People always in a hurry.
Getting hot and bothered like curry.
But why you gotta scurry tonight?
Have I kept you waiting?
Remove all lust from my groin.
It is more of a burden than a delight.
Take away any evidence that my purse held a coin.
Winter is relentless in its efforts to kill.
Its beauty is deceptive, a mask to trick at will.
Winter days are empty yet full of mournful hours.
Winter has to wait while the change is in motion.
We are about to see the results of spring's devotion.
The foliage is turning to yellow, gold and amber hues.
Our relationship has seen everything on every scale.
All of those moments where we achieve or fail.
Passion felt in the greatest abundance.
Hello Mr Byron oh, sorry I mean Lord.
Get on with it you overpriced twit I'm getting bored.
Okay so what is making you feel so blue?
The words I write, the sentences I make.
Are not written by mistake.
I did not create them in my head.
The mind of this human was already prefed.
The first stream of light to hit your sight.
The first yawn you can not fight.
The first temperature change as you take off the duvet.
Entering this place, I thought it would be vacant.
Seeing as it's so derelict and ancient.
Who would want to stay in a place of such disrepair?
By Paul Crocker7 years ago in Poets
Every night's the same on the evening news.
Humanity loses itself in hatred and so easily causes abuse.
They'll come up with the most pathetic excuse.
Terror is growing.
Prisons everywhere are overflowing.
We are always ever knowing.
That the suffering keeps on going.