FreePoetSociety

When you're out on the road in the world having fun I'm at home all alone with nothing but my mind and my mouth left to run, an' I know I can't say that I blame you, my precious dear. Nobody owns you, certainly not with Satan here I didn't drink last night because you asked me not to But I can't lie after work I bought two hurricanes'n a hawaiian blue Now I find myself sittin' here drinking beer, Leinenku's Thinking Hel, I wish you well; I miss you You're takin' your time and that's just fine, I understand bun, we both got stuff to work through. About the liquor don't worry I didn't drink it They wasn't frozen so now they sittin' fre

This house is not a home but a prison cell, a private hell to while away the hours I try to eat but I can't,   I can't find the power or the strength of will As I fall and wilt like a ring of flowers

Cults, generally thought of either as relics of an age past or outliers on the fringe of society Live in our minds as mere images of dark rooms and sacrifices But there is in the United States a Cult, hundreds of years old Alive and well today, lifted up by their litany of lies This US Cult of Personality surrounding George Washington, burner of Native villages, And to a lesser degree his apostles, the Founding Fathers Alongside the likes of Abe Lincoln and, to some, JFK, both sainted by the bullet This is perhaps the most successful personality cult of the modern age This Cult sacrifices the working class of the nation, the faithful and unf

Why am I so angry? I don't mean to be All I ever meant to do is love you the way you once loved me Sometimes I speak when my mind says nothing I open my mouth and words spill out-- words I'd never meant to be The fire you carry inside you constantly inspires me I know you asked me once to describe you and I've always shrunken at the possibility, afraid as I am of failing to live up to your expectations I'm writing you these lines, Haley I can turn a phrase but I can't capture the way you turn me with a glance or set me right with a word how you're strikingly beautiful, whether you see it yourself or not, day and night, to the point of being a

I know just because you kiss me doesn’t mean we’re together again I know we’re just friends but damn, you look at me and feel the need to say it aloud and explicitly like this fact of life is just something missin’ me and damn… It really takes out the wind in me, I sit and I stew and struggle to breath, what do I do, you’re not a part of me but you might as well be. How well we know each other. Why we were best friends well before we were lovers and I’m sorry I’m not always who I oughtta be but I try, I just wanna make you proud’a me, proud to be at my side in front of your family and mine

I thought of you How quaint I know Who writes letters anymore? Or says things like "quaint"? I don't know what this world's got in store I'm sure I can take it. Take it and more. But I'm worried. I worry for the things that go and the things that come. I have yet to see clearly what I have and haven't done And so I write, I write to yourself, truly I thought of you today Oh how you feel so far away The flower that I grasp in vain.