Scott Campbell

Scott Campbell Poems

Put it on the card; write a check, can I owe you?
An empty pocket leads to an empty stomach; an empty stomach leads to an empty mind
The world is broke and hungry, the world is a joke and angry
Charge it, cash on delivery, empty promises of dues, take the easy way out man,
...

Everything is almost gone. One by one, piece by piece, dollar by dollar, gone.
Once the bread is gone, will I write? Two cigarettes left, then what, will the writing stop?
Smoking by itself won't kill you, you need a job to achieve both, and one kills faster than the other.
I've asked too much of everyone, no one wants me around anymore. One by one.
...

So what, I am up.
All the people in their little boxes around me everywhere sleeping
Resting up to go to work
Work like the ants
...

Love is like a long line of people waiting
It seems to take forever to get to the front
Waiting amongst ugly faces and unpleasant smells
Feel the distrust, just keep moving forward
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Poetry is not
Beautiful words strung together to make you light
Poetry is not
Appreciated by anyone but the author
...

Sitting alone
Being alone is not so bad
Unless you can't stand yourself
I imagine this happens, often
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A glimmer of lives similar
Like a head wound, always on my mind
Gushing, taking my life, pulse after pulse
Women will do this to us, even the ones we don't know
...

Forced out of sleep
A gloom, lurking feeling has done it again
Life, love, expectations, sitting on my chest,
Draining the air like a sponge
...

Only one way out
Down the stairs, out the door
Four hundred pounds of baggage
Four hundred pounds of burden
...

From the ashes of previously combusted love
Loveless, no love
I am no Phoenix, more of a sparrow
Homeless, no home
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I would just lie
I would get things in order
And just die
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They say a man can have a spiritual awakening in his 30's, the other day, I woke up.
I woke up to the reality of the fact that I have not accomplished anything worth a damn.
Death looming, nothing left to remember, just a pile in a landfill with the rest of the memories.
I woke up terrified, expectations of society, looking sternly at me, disappointed.
...

Scott Campbell Biography

Please dont take me too seriously. I write for my personal state of mind, not yours. I have a big sense of humor and may sound dark and bitter, but I am well adjusted. I do not follow rules and margins of any style, I just write.)

The Best Poem Of Scott Campbell

We Got It All Wrong

I feel that a funeral is no different than a wedding or a parade. Only the mood is different. The dead don't understand why we grieve, it's them who grieve for us, for we are living and they have it easy. And people cry at weddings, and people celebrate at funerals, this is how it should be. The bride parading down the aisle, women weeping, men walking straight past with the groom, like pall bearers carrying the recently fallen. All of these are selfish, practices; all are focused on us and our inability to accept change.
Funerals are for the living, weddings are for the parents, and parades are for the children.

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