Second and last for today. Dedicated to my roommate.
Published on October 5, 2005 By Death_By_Beebles In Poetry
We open the door and throw off the sheets
of a smothering air from
dirty laundry baskets, the subtle
wafting of vomit from the bathroom down the hall
wondering how we'll make out
I look at the both of us
and what we've done, and
from where we've come
and I seem to remember all these people
these wonderful people
my friends, confidants, loves,
beautiful faces, smiling
and I look to my left
and all I see is a game of video poker
fake million dollar pots
and a silent cell-phone.
I hope you find your happiness there
because there's
no way in hell
you find it anywhere else.

Comments
on Oct 06, 2005
It sounds a bit like you are missing the relationships you had before college. Could it possibly be that you are the one who is too busy to keep in touch? I'm sure those people are still there, but maybe you need to be the one to keep in touch too.
on Oct 06, 2005
It sounds a bit like you are missing the relationships you had before college. Could it possibly be that you are the one who is too busy to keep in touch? I'm sure those people are still there, but maybe you need to be the one to keep in touch too.


I'm not sure where this vibe of yours is coming from, especially from this poem. I hate to explain my poetry, but the subject here is my roommate's lack of trying to get out there in the world an make a few college friends. I have plenty of new friends, and not being very delicate about things, it appears that he does not.