Assembly Line

Just something that I scribbled down in school. We are all formed by other people and that just one thing that I wanted to capture in this poem.

 All things come impaired,

We must be ready and prepared. 

Jealousy leaves us bare,

with the aspiration not to share.

 

Oh! What terrible things may turn,

Oh! How much I yearn...

 

She is so fortunate to have you,

Thinking of all the things we could do...

 

P, your name starts with a P. 

I'm giving the invisible a clue, a key.

 

When things are good you go and kiss her.

I spectate and contemplate what occurs.

My Insides are crushed by anger.

Makes it harder to find my center.

 

When will the organs of this body pass the emotion?

When will she leave, so I can show my devotion?

 

Put all the pieces back one at a time.

Push that on, Pull that off, give a grind.

I'm like a toy on a assembly line.

Passed around and added on to, to be made fine.

Author's Note

Yeppers, I really like the end...