Submissions by bobbedford
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jan 2012 2:23am
15th Jan 2012 2:23am
Death
Diseased,
dying.
Desperate descendants despondent,
dutifully doting.
Distressed discomfort,
demise's deliverance desired;
doctors dole drugs.
Drearily departing,
discernment depleted.
Death.
dying.
Desperate descendants despondent,
dutifully doting.
Distressed discomfort,
demise's deliverance desired;
doctors dole drugs.
Drearily departing,
discernment depleted.
Death.
581 reads
1 Comment
LOVE POEM
Published
15th Jan 2012 00:10am
15th Jan 2012 00:10am
Daddy
They say a woman ticks as she ages,
her body begging for child.
I am ticking,
make me a man!
Selfish wishes,
she isn't ready.
What about her career?
Time diminishes,
risks grow by the day,
what if we can't conceive?
I'll wait for her
the girl I love
my wife,
and crave the time
when someone calls me Daddy
and we call ourselves a family.
her body begging for child.
I am ticking,
make me a man!
Selfish wishes,
she isn't ready.
What about her career?
Time diminishes,
risks grow by the day,
what if we can't conceive?
I'll wait for her
the girl I love
my wife,
and crave the time
when someone calls me Daddy
and we call ourselves a family.
620 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
13th Jan 2012 8:10pm
13th Jan 2012 8:10pm
Bed
Underneath the duvet,
sanctuary from malaise.
Never to awaken,
sleep my ally.
Slaughter the daytime,
leave me rotting.
Alarm signals morning,
reality oozes back.
Stabbing pains rise,
sickness wells up.
Illness is faux,
insufficient to inter.
Leave me horizontal,
make me diseased.
Confined to rest,
I can dream.
Lethargy is salvation.
sanctuary from malaise.
Never to awaken,
sleep my ally.
Slaughter the daytime,
leave me rotting.
Alarm signals morning,
reality oozes back.
Stabbing pains rise,
sickness wells up.
Illness is faux,
insufficient to inter.
Leave me horizontal,
make me diseased.
Confined to rest,
I can dream.
Lethargy is salvation.
729 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
13th Jan 2012 7:45pm
13th Jan 2012 7:45pm
Failure
What if I don't become my ambitions,
suffocated by achievement.
Why do I live in the future,
sacrificing the present.
Will I regret procrastination,
when I'm close to death.
Who is this malfunctioning person,
I used to be alive.
I'm lost,
screaming into insignificance.
Failure would make me sane.
Maybe I should sabotage my future,
I'd cope better with nothing.
suffocated by achievement.
Why do I live in the future,
sacrificing the present.
Will I regret procrastination,
when I'm close to death.
Who is this malfunctioning person,
I used to be alive.
I'm lost,
screaming into insignificance.
Failure would make me sane.
Maybe I should sabotage my future,
I'd cope better with nothing.
809 reads
5 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by bobbedford
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