I don't see how love comes from a pineapple
or how pain leaks from its navel.
All I know is I want freedom from you,
and whomever thinks he needs it too.
So if this means running around looking a fool,
until finally you get the point, I guess that's my tool.
Oh, leave me alone and let me rot in my hole,
and find someone else to accomplish your goal.
Author notes
couch potato much? Try doing it and having me jump down your throat. "Give me the f'ckin remote!!!"
Yeah, the poem trails off a little.
A contest entry
- face in the fog by formless.
300 points, ended October 14, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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