I'm taking a risk posting this here, I hope it doesn't get stolen, also poems aren't always supposed to be perfect so I hope you look at the imperfections of my poems and see them as a part that can never be taken away. Anyways here's my story of a creature wanting to belong in a society in a world that does not seem to have any for him.
I'd like to mention that I don't expect to win, I don't have the best writing skills and there are a lot of other good poems here. I am hoping to win but not to get the stuff, I am hoping to win to get feedback on my work.
Part 1
The Blobman, waking up,
The Blobman, looking around,
Seeing that he was in a cup.
The BlobMan started to climb,
Climbing and climbing
Right out of the cup, The BlobMan
Climbed and climbed,
Finally, getting to the top.
The BlobMan, jumping without fear
Onto the table, looking around,
Studying the land of here.
The BlobMan, deciding where to go,
Thought and thought,
And then started to roll.
Roll and roll, right to the edge,
Determining how far down the floor really was,
Studied all the dust and fuzz
Down below, BlobMan then jumped
Again with no fear in his mind, setting out
to search for more of his kind.
Part 2
The Blobman sets off to look for others of his kind,
Rolling and rolling
Across the kitchen tile,
By the time Blobman got to the carpet of the living room,
He felt like he had gone a mile.
Feeling a surplus of tire,
He rolled under a couch
And settled by an abandoned toy
A kid used to admire.
He slept and slept,
Then woke up to a vacuum,
A tool for a house well kept.
Under the couch, he stayed,
Waiting,
With caution in mind,
Until all the unfortunate dust bunnies had been slayed,
And the vacuum was stowed away.
And then again, set off
To look for more of his kind.
Part 3
The Blobman rolls down the hall,
Wondering what he will find next during his journey.
Rolling, rolling, he passes a doll,
Stained and dirty,
Neglected and left alone.
The Blobman felt sad leaving her there,
Because he knew how being left alone felt.
Knowing that is why he needs to find more of his kind,
He forges on,
Knowing he will never forget the image of the doll.
He turns to enter a room,
And finds himself rolling on carpet,
And sees many more toys on the floor,
None of them are similar to him.
Nonetheless, he rolled farther into the room away from the door,
And kept looking,
Knowing that soon he would find more of his kind.
to be continued...
