Poem for Poetry... is not that interesting but whatever
Over-Used
I flop down, defeated.
My edges are torn and frayed and pieces of me are falling off;
little corners of shoulders and fingers and hair
have gone missing sometime in my long history as a personal secretary.
While I wasn’t paying attention,
someone wrote snippets of country break-up songs on me,
accented by geometry that may be graffiti.
Or maybe it’s a mindless design?
Some neurotic, love-sick stranger doodled a heart over my nametag.
I am stuffed to the seams with information -
both useless and pressing,
forgotten, out-of-date, and incredibly dire.
A bandage of duct tape is the only thing holding my arms and legs together.
They are so used up that they are barely holding on,
despite the extra reinforcement.
With a stiff sigh and an obese heave,
I wrack my brain for the most recent of my memorial collection.
Something about a math assignment, I don’t know.
I can’t keep track anymore.
It’s already lost in the mess that is me.
And that's all I got folks. If you have any suggestions, go crazy. God knows the rest of the class will be yelling things out or going, "Nice imagery" and leaving it at that. *sighs*
Poem is copyright of meeeeee!! :D