Freedom

I’m trapped

My feet are stuck 

They need to be freed

I am lazy

To use my hands?

No need

I’m practical

Shoes are taken off

With my feet

With a Grain of Salt – Poem

If dating you is like eating
And your offensive humor is the spilled salt
Then the ruined dish is the certainty
That me breaking up with you
Is completely your fault

Flirt Like Fish

If to be hit on is like fishing

And your money is the bait

Then your lack of personality is the hook

That I am trying to evade

Should It Be More Fruity?

The concept of paternity leave

Should be more fruity

Perhaps it should be called

Mango

Revenge of the Apple

The apple was returned to its core

Due to your need to eat

But the apple’s revenge

Will forever remain between your teeth

Don’t You Think It’s Great To See All Those Travel Pictures? Yeah, Me Neither

You travel and travel
And you can’t wait to find
That one special thing
You so deliberately left behind

I need to find myself
Is the most common phrase
But you have left yourself at home
The moment you parted ways

You won’t find yourself out there
So don’t even bother
Because the only things you will find
Are the footsteps of another

You are not the first
And, most certainly, not the last
Who tries to travel
To erase their past

And then you have truly lost
That one part which makes you you
Just because you couldn’t handle
The fact that the phrase is not true

And now your pictures will be the judge
Let’s see if there is anything left to defend
Did you travel for a good reason
Or just because it’s a trend

 

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Don’t Hold Someone Back

To hold someone back

Is to push a ball under water

Until it is forced

To escape

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If you enjoy this poem, check out ‘Nothing Is What It Seems‘ & ‘A Poem About Social Media‘!

Comment, and Receive a Poem Tailor-Made For You: A Challenge

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Nothing Is What It Seems

I always love that moment
That sweet moment when I
Realize that the traffic light
Has changed its color for my

Tardiness in life
Seems to come ever so swift
It almost seems
That the green light’s a gift

But that does not mean
That the red light is good
Oh don’t even think
That it has a mood

Because after all
A traffic light is not alive
This is absolutely not
A metaphore for my wife

A Poem About Social Media

As I dry my hands

With the pages of books

I get my knowledge

From paper towels