deepundergroundpoetry.com
Society
In the morning, you put on that pretty face,
And meet them all over, I meet them too.
Smiling is mutating, it should be recognised
As how humans express grief, hatred, depression...
People sit on the sides of the roads and along the kiosks
Like they are waiting for something, maybe someone, maybe death.
And they put on masks and talk about other people,
And how their lives ain't happy. Do you see it?
Do you see how pain and failure and poverty
Creates bonds and relationships? I believe
The bad side ain't that after all. Rumours have brought
Together so many lovers and built so many friendships.
Your poor life is a recipe for a good talk somewhere,
A good laugh. But let's leave that at that.
I just wanted to tell you about how you wait on WhatsApp,
For just someone, anyone, any god damn soul to just text you!
And they wait too.
Fuck!
And meet them all over, I meet them too.
Smiling is mutating, it should be recognised
As how humans express grief, hatred, depression...
People sit on the sides of the roads and along the kiosks
Like they are waiting for something, maybe someone, maybe death.
And they put on masks and talk about other people,
And how their lives ain't happy. Do you see it?
Do you see how pain and failure and poverty
Creates bonds and relationships? I believe
The bad side ain't that after all. Rumours have brought
Together so many lovers and built so many friendships.
Your poor life is a recipe for a good talk somewhere,
A good laugh. But let's leave that at that.
I just wanted to tell you about how you wait on WhatsApp,
For just someone, anyone, any god damn soul to just text you!
And they wait too.
Fuck!
Published 25th May 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 5
reads 212
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The author encourages honest critique.
25th May 2023 1:44pm
29th May 2023 12:41pm
yes we do wait
then sometimes it's too late
I myself havent learned yet
to text before I'm really in trouble
then sometimes it's too late
I myself havent learned yet
to text before I'm really in trouble
22nd Sep 2023 3:00pm
22nd Sep 2023 3:11pm
Community
The world has turned into reality,
Class has become superior to humanity
A smile is deceptive, it must be admitted
Simple people also express sadness, hatred, and depression.
Bureaucrats express joy, success, and strength
People sit on the sides of the roads wondering
As if they were waiting for something, maybe hope, maybe death.
Controllers wear masks and talk about others,
They brag about their happy lives.
The world has turned into reality,
Class has become superior to humanity
A smile is deceptive, it must be admitted
Simple people also express sadness, hatred, and depression.
Bureaucrats express joy, success, and strength
People sit on the sides of the roads wondering
As if they were waiting for something, maybe hope, maybe death.
Controllers wear masks and talk about others,
They brag about their happy lives.
14th Jan 2024 5:25am
Enjoyed your latest poem. It's quite good but if you're anything like me you'll leave it alone, come back in a month or so with fresh eyes, and you will see how you can make it even better. I have about 50 poems I've written and at least half of them are in need of rewrite, some just a bit of tweaking, others pretty hopeless. But that's okay.
I want to encourage you to keep on keeping on. You have talent. Poetry is really difficult for me. Sometimes it comes out really easily but more often it's a struggle.
I'm nearly 80, so I've been around the block more than a few time. So hang in there. Stay serious about your art. The world needs good poetry. The world needs you.
Peace and best wishes.
I want to encourage you to keep on keeping on. You have talent. Poetry is really difficult for me. Sometimes it comes out really easily but more often it's a struggle.
I'm nearly 80, so I've been around the block more than a few time. So hang in there. Stay serious about your art. The world needs good poetry. The world needs you.
Peace and best wishes.
