Poverty Princess VS Free Verse Poetry

I don’t have a clue about poetry, but it’s been two weeks since a post and this is all I’ve got.

Nou Mesos

Brown-eyes and basketball,

Chanel and Camel Cigarettes.

Torn technicolour coat,

Hair dye instead of eye-brow tint.


Paper crowns,

Cutlery falls.

Puppet Strings,

Fingers interlock, almost.


“If you want.”

“If you want.”

“If you want.”

I wish that I didn’t want to.


“On the condition that you come visit me to practice English.”

On the condition that this,

On the condition that that.

Unconditional disease.


“Obviously for me, is bad.”

 “I’m a good person, I know it.”

 “I try my best for you to be happy.”

“You know I don’t really want a girl.”


“Thank you for the laughs.”

This is a fucking joke.

Lust. Love. Never-ending game.

Lapdog. Resentment.





Get the fuck out. Leave.


“Hi, Mike!”

“Bye Mike!”

“Once again Mike,

See you.”



Fuck This.

Fuck you.



Trump is Red,

Hilary is Blue,

He’s actually won,

Hahahahaha we’re all screwed.


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