Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aa Harvey Sep 2018
Parents – They mess you up


Choices – let me make them.
All your voices I can only condemn.
Knowledge is wasted on your youth,
When all you tell me is what to do.


Choices – I choose to ignore,
All your advice because I listened before.
All I now own are things I hate;
All those choices I wanted to make,
But you corrupted my every independent thought
And all those things I bought for me were yours.


Choices – do parents ever let up?
All those opinions masked as love
And yeah it may all be from a good place,
But now every single miserable day I have to see my miserable face,
In the cheapest looking mirror known to man
And stockpiles of soap for one face and two hands.


Oh my God!  They know not what they do!
These people I love have not got a clue!
Give me a choice and hear my voice,
My will a tortoise unwilling to move in case of upset,
But please, oh please, get out of my head
And replace the terrible bed you advised me to buy.
I hate it so much I just want to cry!
I have to sleep on the sofa now,
Because on that stone I can no longer lie.


So hear my truth, I do love you,
But if hate your choices for what I should do
And all the extra bits of food which I do not need!
Please!  Stop giving it all to me!
It all just goes straight in the bin,
Because I never asked for this!
Why the Hell do you think I have a shopping list?


I hate the way you are so bothered about money.
Let me enjoy it, it could be funny,
To do something fun and waste cash on that.
How the Hell would I know?  You never gave me a chance.


I’m sick of working hard to make my money,
Just to have you spend it for me.
I’m sure there are other things I hate,
But it’s getting late, so I will sleep in the bed I made…

Not the one you made me buy.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
sunprincess Jul 2018
How am I suppose to swim this mighty sea?

All my possessions have become an anchor,
an anchor of immense weight
Keeping me in this small vicinity

This territory known by the great white
and every sea creature
Will they come when hungry to visit me?

Lord knows I don't wish to be their next meal
sunprincess Jul 2018
Posessions
My posessions mean nothing
absolutely nothing!

I would give up every material thing
in my possession

Just to see my mother again
Sovit Pokhrel Apr 2018
I FOUND NOTHING
I AM HAPPY !
I HAVE NOTHING
I AM AT PEACE !
I FOUND NOTHING
I AM RICH !
I HAVE NOTHING
I AM BLESSED !

I FOUND SOMETHING.
I HAVE SOMETHING.
THE ULTIMATE TRUTH.
ANSWERS TO MY QUESTIONS.
SOLUTIONS TO MY PROBLEMS.

I HAVE EVERYTHING !
I HAVE NOTHING !
The secret to happiness lies in nothing.
Elisa Mar 2017
I don't need more.
They tell me I do.
More likes, more money
more friends too.

Society thinks
I'll be happy then,
More clothes, more shoes
More power, more men.

But more often than not
The more you aquire,
The more you'll realize
The more you desire.
M Harris Mar 2017
I live, I respire, I function… These are possessions one doesn’t think twice of… But there is desolation where you were erstwhile.  I am consumed by it – Whole and soul.  Lines blur, melting, altering, folding… and now – I am it, and it is me. Yet ever so often, I am jolted from this half-life, and I call out. Words run their usual sequence, but someplace else along its’ way, the voice withers… and I’m back where I commenced… breathing my half-truths… finding ease in the twisted… alone – this heart song plays on unheeded… I know they see the prism and the spectral colors… they think I have it all. and I smile… holding back my streams – they’d wash away all that color they love so much…  I laugh a thousand tears, softly, in the silence that is still mine. And I learn to shelter my wounds from your half-truth. All that is felt is no longer ours; but mine… just mine. And gradually – I begin to comprehend – Fudging curve ***** doesn’t come easy. Not even in my wildest dreams…
Graff1980 Jan 2017
Scattered things like lost souls
Scream their futility.
Trinkets and trash charged with endless possibilities.
Illusions of how life could be better so,
I collect scraps of waste masked as human invention
New technologies, toys, and other luxuries
Drive that dark spear of desire deeper into my being.
Want is a sickness, a fever that cycles on and off.
I have I want, I want I need, I need I get.
I get I have, I have I want, I want I need
A scary situation and in its pursuit
I place myself in painful positions
Paying with large chunks of my life.
I get more and as it become easier.
My urges get stronger and stranger,
Joy becomes that much harder to find.
Get it get it get it get it get it
Buy buy buy buy buy buy
Till the pile stacks up so high
That I live and die inside
The world of crap I bought.
Once I start it is hard to stop
And I become the sole possessor
Of this sick collectors disposition.
Next page