Broken Girls❤Broken Boys
Sheʼs waiting for sunset
She belongs to the night
Heʼs scared of the dark
Sheʼs scared of the light
Cheer up, he demands
He is awfully bossy
Been drinking his feelings
He is awfully saucy
She must have forgot
He forgot he got caught
He got caught taking shots
With some sluts
She hates being sad
She was glad to be mad
’Cuz when things go bad
She goes nuts
Have you met the devil inside?
Made a friend of the devil within?
Did you fight with all of your might?
Or give up and let the devil win?
Heʼs holding a bottle
Good times at the bars
Sheʼs holding a blade
Sheʼs counting her scars
Heʼs drowning his sorrow
Sheʼs cutting her skin
If it hurts tomorrow
They'll do it again
He left her bereft, he couldnʼt stay
Heʼs too far gone, heʼs too far away
One day, he'll pay, heʼs well on his way
To regret
Sheʼs reckless when sheʼs left alone
Sheʼs holding tight her silent phone
Too many sins for her to atone
Or forget
Will you bear the burden and the blame?
Are you ready to finally start healing?
Do you feel guilt for the blood you spilt?
The truth will come out, fuck your feelings
.
He'll drink and be merry
A drunk feels no pain
Sheʼs slicing her thighs up
Just to feel anything
The knives have been sharpened
Slice and dice through the noise
As long as liquor flows freely
Broken girls love broken boys
My Job with Bob
Time to wake up, my alarm is ringing
Into the shower I go with my singing
Will I take my car?
Will it take me far?
It's better than taking the sickamoobar (bus)
One light
Two lights
Green lights
Red lights
Should I stop and get some gas?
Should I stop if I am fast?
I should stop and get some gas
I should stop and get it fast
So to work my car will last
I've arrived at my job
So has my friend Bob
Bob won't sob
if you feed him
corn on the cob.
If you see Bob start to sob
You can feed him corn on cob
Work is done, let's go and have fun!
Back in my car
So we can go far
We got gas
We got it fast
My car will last
Hello, son!
My son is done.
My son went to school
But he didn't run.
Does he like the Mac and cheese?
He does not like the Mac and cheese.
Will he eat it in a tree?
He will not eat it in a tree.
He does not like the Mac and cheese
He does not like it if you please
Will he eat it on his knees?
He will not eat it on his knees.
Not in a tree, not on his knees
He does not like the Mac and cheese
He does not like it if you please!
What about soup, does he like that?
Only if it's served in a hat
Pasta, pasta, how about pasta?
He will eat pasta, I am so pleased
He will eat pasta with broccoli.
Homework time, the clock has chimed
He does his while I do mine
Then it's off to bed again
Kiss his head and tuck him in.
I stretch my arms and give a yawn
I do not want it to be dawn!
A Seuss-i-cal Week
I woke up on Sunday
quite ready for church;
backed out in my Hyundai
to crash with a lurch!
My pleasant demeanor
(which started the day)
crushed flat by the beaner
I got in the fray!
On Monday, I figured
things couldn’t get worse,
but that folly triggered
more reason to curse.
The ride I’d finagled
(my car in the shop)
was out getting bageled
and forgot to stop!
That might be forgiven
when Tuesday arrived
if she hadn’t driven
where bees had been hived.
Ten stings were the answer
(allergic I’m not),
my jumps like a dancer
throughout parking lot!
By Wednesday, though weary,
I tried to regroup.
I even got cheery
and packed me some soup.
It tasted so yummy
(while warming me through),
I filled up my tummy
and went to the zoo!
I’m glad that my bosses
by Thursday could see
I’d dealt them no losses
and cost them no fee.
It’s not that I’m lazy
(I work really hard),
but life had been crazy
for this week, so far.
On Friday, you know it,
I counted the tocks
though I couldn’t show it
by watching the clocks.
I don’t think it’s stretching
(in fact I’m quite sure)
to say all my kvetching
had only one cure –
and that was for free time,
now Saturday bound.
A ‘what do you see’ rhyme
in Seuss-i-cal-sound
I’ve writ for a week
(though it’s only a lark).
Life isn’t so bleak
if your car can stay parked!
Posted on Prose
Party girl in a twirl
Woke up this morning got out of bed
Dizzy woozy wobbly post party head
Reached for the aspirin and the coffee pot
But everything empty got diddly squat
Nothing for my headache
Nothing to help me keep awake
Went for a shower to liven me up more
Slipped on the bubbly soap fell on the floor
Took myself and my bruised bottom back to bed
I´ll give this getting up another try later instead!
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© M.Withers/M.Strudwick . All rights reserved.
Both the name The EriduSerpent/EriduSerpent
and any written material is owned solely by the above named.
Permission granted for all written material to be shared but not for profit.
Printing or publishing is prohibited without seeking permission first from said owner.
Open Your Eyes, Time to Rise
Open my eyes, stretch, and yawn
Stumble out of bed, cursing the dawn
Brush my teeth, brush my hair
Wash my face…and here…and there
Scour through my closet to find some clothes
Then change four times from which I chose
A glass of water, a protein bar
Every morning (is this bizarre?)
Sometimes I run to the store or bank
And get some gas inside my tank
Back home to write and listen to tunes
That’s how I spend my afternoons
In the evening I teach a class
And try hard not to be a smart ass
On the way home, I stop at the gym
That’s how I stay fit and trim
Home once again, this time to stay
After quite a hectic, busy day
Sit down at my desk and begin to write
For countless hours until it is night
Oh the Vision You Can View
At the end of a perfectly frantical day,
I sit on my seat and send my worries away.
I like the TV, it makes such a sound,
You could almost forget you had troubles around.
I watch Star Trek and Arrow and Conan and Friends,
I have such a good time that the fun never ends!
With all my snacks on my lap, and a coke in my hand,
I sail far away to a fantasy land.
It's so good to forget that your day was so bad,
You can let go and focus on what makes you glad.
There are no bad things on the shows of all kinds,
Except all the sad stuff on Criminal Minds,
But that doesn't matter, just switch to Cupcake Wars,
Or maybe just go and dance with the Stars.
Just kick back and grab up some scones,
And be glad you can relax with Game of Thrones.
A person’s a person, no matter how small.
REMEMBERING ALICE
Alice was a withdrawn seven year old in the second grade classroom in which I taught. Her parents were separated. Alice's father had physical custody. He told Alice that her mother was dead. Alice's mother hoped to get custody at the divorce hearing. She was eventually able to tell Alice that she was not dead.
Alice's behavior was strange and she had no friends in the class. The other children giggled at her unusual behavior. One day, Alice's mom came to the classroom to take Alice out for lunch. I took advantage of Alice's absence to talk to the class. I said, “I want to talk with you about something important. I know Alice's behavior is odd at times and I don't blame you for laughing. But there is something that I think you should know. Alice is living with just her father right now. He told Alice that her mother is dead.”
The children gasped.
I swallowed hard, then continued, “I'm not trying to make you sad. I'm telling you this because Alice is going through a difficult time and she needs us to be kind to her.”
Alice returned to a more compassionate classroom. No one was her friend, but no one laughed at her.
Two weeks later, Alice's mom told me that the following Friday she was taking Alice out of the school.
The day before Alice's last day with us, I spoke with the school secretary. I told her that I needed some time to talk to my class so that I could tell them that Alice is leaving and ask them to make a good-bye card. I told the secretary that I would ask Alice to deliver a note to her and would she please keep Alice in her office for five minutes before sending her back to the classroom. The secretary smiled and agreed.
Later that day, Alice took the note to the secretary's office. While she was out of the room, I talked with the students.They appeared happy to make a card. Alice was often in her own world, so it wasn't difficult for the children to make a card without Alice noticing. I told the students to put their cards on my desk at dismissal time.
After the students left for the day, I looked at the cards. The boy who was her chief tormentor and laughed the loudest had made a card with flowers and butterflies He had written, “I'm sorry you're leaving. I love you. I'll miss you.”
Many students created cards with similar sentiments.
The following day was Alice's last one with us. I asked one of the students to write Alice's name on the envelope and decorate it. I gave the envelope to Alice at dismissal time.
Four days later, I received a note from Alice's mother. It read: Thank you so much for the envelope you gave Alice. She reads the cards from the children over and over. She said, “I didn't know they loved me.” This weekend she was the happiest I have ever seen her."