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Brent Kincaid Jun 2016
I found seashells and driftwood,
Cans and bottles and much more
Like diapers and picnic stuff
While walking along the shore.
I found cigarette butts and bags
And those horrendous soda holders
That catch on sea life and twist them
In their middle or at their shoulder.

I saw palm trees and jacaranda
Waving in the balmy breeze
And broken plastic lawn chairs
Leaning against the lovely trees.
I found six-packer carriers sitting
With all the beer bottles inside.
I saw pieces of bicycles and big batteries
And I swear I almost sat and cried.

But I had too much to do right then
Gathering up all that random junk.
I carried them to a ******* bin
And I threw it all in, kerthunk!
I wondered for the hundredth time
The parents these creeps had
That let them grow so ill behaved,
And so embarrassingly bad.

What kind of selfish brat can come
And look out on this lovely scene
And throw their ******* all around?
How can they be so mean?
It makes me hope for recompense;
That what goes around come again
And we can stash these human pigs
Into an appropriate kind of pen.
Viseract Nov 2015
I may seem heartless sometimes
But that's only on the outside
In my heart, in my mind
I'm still a boy inside

Whilst I may look like a man,
(What the hell, I'm tall enough)
And seem inhumane as anything
Getting through the day can be tough

Names yelled out at me
But I sweep it aside, mouth shut, no talk
What I didn't say is it collects,
Litter on the sidewalk

I may look the part
And act the part as well,
But in all honesty,
My mind isn't free
And on these insults I dwell
Another poem about myself. God, I am so self-centred (insert sarcasm here)
AmberLynne Dec 2014
Your promises come out
as pre-splintered words,
already having a tarnish.
And yet I am hopeful,
always, that I may be able
to pick them up, rub them
with my shirtsleeve just so,
and see the gleam of a true
promise. But no matter how I try,
how tenderly I handle the pieces
of your intentions, they always
crumble in my fingers,
confetti litter on the floor.
12.8.14
No one listens
Friends seldom seen
'I'm all right'
Cancelled conversations
Happiness on demand
Courses in tautology
Reverent respectability
Chimes lost to time
Disconsolate coverlets
Scenes from lonely places
Litter on the streets
You're on your own.

— The End —