Rainy Day Haiku!

The Rain pours down hard
I am covered in her tears
My umbrella failed

-An original poem by Amber Atevalu (Me)

I hope that made you smile today.

Do you have a rainy day haiku you’d like to share?

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Title Unknown

Love is a gamble, sex is a game
The boy does the fucking, the girl gets the blame
He says that he loves you, you think that it’s true
But no, silly girl, he’s fucking others, too
One night of pleasure, nine months of pain
Now you’re in the hospital with a baby to name
The baby’s a bastard, the mother’s a whore
This wouldn’t have happened if the condom hadn’t tore

I would love to take credit for this one but I did not write it. I heard it when I was 12 and I never, ever forgot it. I wish I had heeded the strong warning inherent in this poem. The author is unknown.

Zygote

Terrible is the pain that festers in my belly, as the zygote screams for the love I’m incapable of giving.
I see the wire hanger, it looks deliciously enticing.
Selfishly, I pick it up to make the ultimate sacrifice.
How ridiculous I am to believe I could be a mother.
There is no way on God’s green earth I could ever love another.
Many times I dreamed that I would find true love,
but giving birth to a bastard child is not the love I once dreamed of.
My spirit is crushed, my eyes are wet, my legs are dripping with blood.
I miss you, little zygote, but I hate the man that made you.

-An original poem by Amber Atevalu (Me)

Love Or Something Like It

I offered up my heart for the smashing, pathetic girl that I am.
His love is cheap and incomplete and now I writhe in agony.
He tells me I can trust him, although it’s just a line.
Foolish of me to trust a man who puts his trust in wine.
I love too quickly, many have said, and maybe they’re all right.
My heart is weak, I’m damaged goods, I take what I can find.
The flame of love is quelled by his sickening infidelity.
I will not cry. Oh no, not I! The sound of my tears in his ears is nothing more than a sweet melody.

-An original poem by Amber Atevalu (Me)

The Beast Within

The fault lies within the taker, the collector of the wild female.
His use of women’s parts makes his darkened heart unbreakable.
Sadly mistaken is he who thinks he can tame the wild beast within.
I will kill him slowly then eat his rotting flesh.
Howl at the moon and dance all night ’til there’s nothing left of his remains.
All who mourn are imbeciles and should suffer the same fate.

-An original poem by Amber Atevalu (Me)