Imagism

Alright then, Imagism...how do I start.

At the beginning I found them boring and not very artistic, but as I wrote them, I began having more fun.

It was a good kind of fun, being able to play with my words. The fact that I can just write without asking myself this, "Is it good enough to be handed in?"
The answer is: "Nope! And it doesn't even matter."

This makes me feel great. Awesome even. I'm so tired of trying to fulfill things.
Parents, extended family, casual friends, ex's, paperwork...
You can all suck on this.

Enjoy!
--
Some Poor Soul
A shoe
Dusted with dirt
Sits out on the curb
Abandoned for stench
Oh, some poor sole

A Daisy
A single daisy
Against the wind
Showered upon
Battered
Still smells sweet

A Secret
Come here
I’ll tell you a secret
Come here
I’ll whisper in your ear
Come here
And I’ll say,
“There’s no more soap
In the bathroom.”

Something…Something
There’s a man
Who stands at this curb
Waiting in the rain
Alone, looking up
At something
For some reason
I think

One More Drink
It was in this moment
The bottle sat on the table
Empty
Beaded with sweat
In his hand, a rose
Thorns digging
Blood trickling
Down the empty bottle

Simple Squirrel
Squirrel still
Sitting in the
Shade of a rock
Still as stone
Savouring its acorn

Radiation
Red stone building
Crumbling chips
Flaky dry dust
Geiger Counter
Ticking tick
Ah, radiation.