Poems about yesterday

Hey guys
Guess what!
I've been drinking since 8 PM yesterday evening
It's going on 4 AM.
Whiskey and watered down, or stale, cola.
And I still don't feel like socking some random
Bystander
In the face.
Right hook
For no reason at all.
In Latrobe
Pistolvania,
Because that's how you prove strength.
That's how you show your dominance.
I guess.

I beg to disagree.
Tunnel vision's setting in. No holding back now.

I don't give a fuck who you are.
I don't give a fuck what you're made of.
If you're ready to lay hands on
My father,
And my brother,
Know full and well that you just dug your own fucking grave.

I will pull you off of my brother.
I will make you submit.
And you will know "you done goofed"
As you and yours would put it so beautifully.

The man you once respected for holding his own
Is now the man who holds your fate.

Got myself a donkey yesterday
And tethered it out there in the yard;
But when I looked out the window
I noticed
It looked glum, moody and testy
So I went out to see what I could do
I tickled my donkey
And he cackled and laughed a lot
And he hee-hawed aloud -
But yeah, you can bet your arse
I got the bigger kick out of it

Why was i motivated to write what i wrote
Yesterday?
Let's just say:
How about your idiotic english peasant simpleton
Argues with your mother
And causes your other neighbour
To come out and threaten to punch them
For their imbecile behaviour?
How about that?
What happened: i was getting a new roof -
I had contractors i paid to change the tiles -
And he comes out and mouths off
Your mother saying: ooh, they're leaving
Too much mess, and you shouldn't be refurbishing
Your roof: because my wife is pregnant.
Now you're pushing it... mmm?
What is she? the fucking virgin mary?
You're protecting a rotting prune of a woman and
She's probably going to plop up a retard with
That disgusting late 40s womb...
Oh this is malice -
I know it's malice, because logic states:
Talk to the people working on the site
Rather than the contractors who paid their
Pontius pilate dues...
I. e. washed their hands clean
Of the affair.
You know: i can't believe i'm
Being dragged to the local level of affairs being "serious"...
But you know... when they say something about
Your mother... you start throthing at the mouth:
Whether loud or silent... you're going to take to a cobra bite...
Fucking retard is so panicky about
Me that
He finds my laughter in
The night to be filled with nothing but malice -
Well... d'uh!
If i could just squeeze in
A moment in my day (between my drinking sessions)
A chance to spot him... i'd just talk to him for a while...
Still, here's to next door... with a dry prune of
A woman's womb... and on the grander scale:
Western society...
You know they're having a breeding
Program in Poland?
Yeah... they're paying them to have
Babies at the appropriate age... early 20s...
I actually can respect a teenage woman
Having a baby, the father disappearing
And the state supporting her... but a woman in her 40s
Having her first child? that's not going to happen.
But hey, yin yang -
You forget the father sticking to his
Young "bride"...
You're going to have to microwave
Those fried hash-browns... and let me tell you:
It's like eating slugs.
Once more!
So your wife's pregnancy dictates that
I should be careful about walking on egg-shells?
She's nearly 50! what can she bake
In that oven of hers?!
Some sort of darwinistic spectacular?!
This is england...
Out of its biological framework...
What? i can't update my roof because your
Decaying prune of a woman is having a down foetus?
Abled men, discriminated against
Having something that could, perhaps, use a pair
Of scissors: to spread butter on toast.

I will forever treasure the night
That we had in our drunken stupor.

It was a blur but i remember it clearly.

For it was one of those times
Where the troubles dissipated
For a moment.

The giggles and cuddles
That only the strangers, the streets
And the moon witnessed.

It genuinely made me happy.

*You make me happy.

Today a thought or two sped into center stage,
Disguising the space that surrounds the seas,
What if the lands we ran from were where we ought to be?
What if the green leaves of summer could no longer be seen,
Autumn colors only reminders of pastures in a dream.
Birds singing unfamiliar songs, ones we had never heard,
Yes, it is great to be part of the new but it isn't as new as it seems.
Dave, John and Mary have been here before,
Sure didn't they talk about it in the times?
No, that was some other folk, turning memories into sweet rhymes.
You weren't the first to open the door, spreading wisdom, giving new hope.
Remember all lands were founded so play in them how you may,
All of these pastures were built for your pleasure,
New characters created each day.
Its not that you are less special then all who have gone before.
No, you have a purpose, so use it, adding blocks to the core.
In memory of Seamus and Thomas, sing out to all who will listen,
Give them your whole hearted vision
Explain that a pasture isn't a prison.

Was ok

Maybe I'll tell you about it more tomorrow
I'm just so tired today Baby

I'm exhausted T. T

Baby
By the way

If you ever don't like something that I'm doing
Or something that I've done but we haven't fully settled

Let me know
Please

I want us to be as clear as glass on a warm sunny day: )

I Wuvs You
Kiss on the cheek
Runs like little boy me ^^

Towiiiiiiiiii

~ < 333333 (> ^-^)> (> ^_^)>

Bring, not what was said yesterday?
Cause that was yesterday and all things of concerns has faded away.
And my mind has turned to other things.

So we argued.
Or shall I said had a debate.
And words was spoken in ill will.
Just remember that was yesterday.

And now it's tomorrow.
A new day for joy and not sorrow.
Secretly I apologize.
Although words might not be said to that effect.
I just know that was yesterday.

Remember this loved of mine for you will never fade away.

You ease the creak that emanates from each joint
On my ivory clothed body
This pain, this life
You take the edge off of this steady aiming knife.
Blades dull & hands weak, we will draw no blood tonight;
No molly wrapped in old receipts or someone
Fixing my yayo lines.
I face today
Through the haze
Of all the years & tears
Spent wasted
On all your lies
Of yesterday