Array ( [sid] => 186345 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Friday After Noon [time] => 2019-06-29 01:46:25 [hometext] => [bodytext] => wake and bake
til its hard to speak
I can almost touch common sense
but its out of reach
got the the munchies
time to eat
no worries of sugars and meat fillers
the new world order
wants us to all be obese

can not drink the water
this world is filled with dread
the birds are poisoned
theres a monster under my bed
the televisions on
disinformation is continually spread

everything I got
I learned from my peers
and we all went to school
the school of societies fears
manic and depressed
is on display here
these are the fruits
the system has come to bear

sit at home
buying things on the internet
stay on line to long
and you know what I will be doing next

cigarettes killing me
cant catch my breath
writing poems
chain smoking
apostrophes never leave the complex
this flows incomplete
it is not finished yet
[comments] => 4 [counter] => 65 [topic] => 43 [informant] => unknown_utopia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Friday After Noon


Friday After Noon
Date: Saturday, 29th June 2019 @ 01:46:25 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: unknown_utopia
wake and bake
til its hard to speak
I can almost touch common sense
but its out of reach
got the the munchies
time to eat
no worries of sugars and meat fillers
the new world order
wants us to all be obese

can not drink the water
this world is filled with dread
the birds are poisoned
theres a monster under my bed
the televisions on
disinformation is continually spread

everything I got
I learned from my peers
and we all went to school
the school of societies fears
manic and depressed
is on display here
these are the fruits
the system has come to bear

sit at home
buying things on the internet
stay on line to long
and you know what I will be doing next

cigarettes killing me
cant catch my breath
writing poems
chain smoking
apostrophes never leave the complex
this flows incomplete
it is not finished yet


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