Churning out these half baked poems is really bumming me out

"I think I'll do it today"

said the bitter man to the turtle

with great delicacy the turtle retorted

"I'll see you next week"

the evening came

brewing brooding black coffee man

so unpalatable

he could not acquire a taste for himself

turtle texted to assure he would not 

lose another one 

the man replied with a sour tone

“I’ll see you next week”

the weekend came

selfish man-child that he was

swallowed the cabinet

both medicine and liquor

no promises can hold against

such angry frosted will  

lonely and sick

man was reclined between white

crisp sheets

changed and pleated a hundred times

rotating round the ticks and shifts

wishing he had doubled his effort

turtle marched in at funeral pace

into the fluorescent tomb 

the man now softer somberly 

gazed at his turtle temper teacher 

"why did you come"

"I said I would see you next week"

"people don't mean what they say"

"that's why I became a turtle"

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[. serah .]

~ i agree... we have to turn into something else in order to survive with our words/actions/spine intact... p.s. in college, i was named "slowly" after a friend's pet turtle...