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Lennon knows nothing about Happiness (or warm guns)
by Jolie JordanJohn,
I've never wrote you anything
except for that one line in that one poem
about how I like to look at your bearded grin
from between my pink thighs.
Sunshine,
I'm moving 2,000 miles for you.
I'm leaving my mother who warns me about boys like you.
She says, she says;
"What will you do if I can't be there for you?
What will you do when he decides he's done with you?"
Well baby,
I know it's true.
I'd wake up everyday to you.
I'm going to fucking marry you. 02/12/2009 Author's Note: This is pretty bad. but I figured it's been a while since I posted anything, and this only took about a minute to write, so be nice. Happy people make terrible poets.
Posted on 02/12/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jolie Jordan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ava Blu on 02/12/09 at 02:29 PM It isn't as bad as you think. It definitely doesn't feel finished to me, though I think the length is good, so maybe it's just that last stanza that could be re-worked? Anyway, I really enjoyed the first stanza and I definitely like your title. I think happy people can write good poems! Or at least I must have hope that we can. :) |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/24/09 at 07:42 PM Ok - I'm gonna be nice -- "Happy people make terrible poets"; true romance, or true lies, or just plain true. Be happy -- fuck poetry :) |
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