Short is life
Filled with things
Who knows what for
I’ll never earn my wings
I think I fulfilled my knowledge
By the age of nine
I guess I could better myself
If I could expand my mind
Some new kind of thrill
Need what I ain’t had
Some new kind of rush
I need to go crazy mad
Like a child sucks their mom
Like your daughter eating Jill
This guy needs
Some new kind of thrill
I’m looking, I’m searching
I want something never had before
I’m looking, I’m searching
Something greater then a $5 dollar whore
A new kind of thrill
Dangerous, with the intent to kill
A new kind of thrill
This poem required very little skill
Piss off!








wowee you’re in a mood today ❤️I hope it gets better…
It’s all good Brenda. Thanks for reading. xo
Powerfully penned, Keith. A very moody write indeed my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thanks Damian. You rock!
This rolls a bit different than your norm. It builds and then that last stanza had me grinning. The poem is almost a frown…followed by a smirk. Much enjoyed the mood of this one
Hello Willow. Correct. This piece was put together because I was bored. As much as I enjoy writing, I become bored with it. If the words don’t pour out, then it’s not worth the write. Thank you for the generous remarks.