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D Daddy’s an asshole Momma’s a bitch Don’t dare complain Afraid of that switch . Can’t help dreaming
Now DON'T Get Me Wrong... !!! I Rate Sean Con' As The BEST EVER BOND... !!! But There's Not Been A..." Black James Bond "... !!!!!
Fearofflying—facing fearhe boarded the planewhich some minutes after takeoffviolently shook and then plummeted toward earth—him being sad, not over his impending death, but having just won the lottery
The animals live as they are adapted to live, but never more. They are primitive. Without free thought, without art and culture, without clothing. The trees give shade and shelter to the animals
it can’t get worse,⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it won’t get better
roses are red roses are dead
The Irony in this Nation How a color A sound Can trigger someone’s mind to hate The accusations and discrimination that holds a great sense of problem in this white nation
I am a girl who cried out for a just world, sitting with a scale in my hands, weighing the lighter crimes, judging. This is either irony or self-awareness.
The cool air slithers through your shirt. The water soaks your face in vitality. Your foot throbs with invisible hammers The dark clouds shadow your happiest day. These are just sensations.
Nestled in between Crushed dreams and garbage piles Is a place Full of towering hope As far as the eye can see And the claustrophobic rain of opinions that make up a city.
Warning! Woman on the loose:broken free, rank with sweat, blood on her chest. She’s gone wild, riled at the stench, cloaked in the gore of her own sex.
The dwarf and the king By A.R.T Once long ago, there was a dwarf who ran about, With all his pride and gout.
Isn’t it Ironic? It’s sometimes overwhelming having so much to say, Thoughts filling your head all moments of the day,
Ravenous, uncouth fillled with rage On a low-lit night sprawled and lost Stands a king to be, panicked, distraught Soaring with disgust at fates new page The new king he must be, a king this dawn
America, A country that's known for its supposed greatness America, A country that's known for its presumed freedom America, A country that's known for its "many oppurunities for all"
War hungry yet peace seeking. Assault rifles for protection. White privilege in a country built on immigrants. Home of the brave but afraid of innocent Muslims.
Death can't bring about life but that wasn't so in Jesus's case.When he died, it brought about immortality for the Human Race.Because of Jesus's death, the dead will not perish, they will live forever.
I don’t love him anymore. The residency that he used to hold in my heart has been vacated. A year ago I was terrified when you left that I was over, I was done, that at sixteen I had loved the truest and purest love I would feel.
A life time of ignorance, discrimination whispered into the billowing breeze, my articulation better than those of 'my kind', the prejudice that is passed from generation to generation,
Forlonness and dejection tear at my heart Serrated claws ripping flesh apart Searing pain pulsates through a body so maimed Burning gaze from icy daggers aimed at my shame Are we not the same?
thanks to Marcel B. The day moon says “fuck you” when it rises With the brick in the sun at 4:00-- It wasn’t his idea.
"I hate this city," she told me one day.
Tear down the wall Sturdy and tall Set firm with mortars that kept us in thrall Blood dirt and steel Flaming hot feel
"I'm melting in your gentle arms This is the sweetest form of harm. Please hold me closer; your light is soothing I'm lost in space, although not moving And when I die, don't let me go
From a distance they discussed The scorns of love and pain of lust A fire burned within the room An icy presence ever loomed But their words were much the same The ice was glad she over, came
The flame, she danced, above the lighter The base: the bishop; the top: the mitre And as she danced, her red eyes saw A beauty, elegance, dropping-jaw So she spread along the floor
Her eyes were like shadowsReclusive and tauntingHis eyes were the sunShining, yet dauntingShe had seen him before but they never had spokenUntil one day she left him an affectionate tokenShe'd seen him at his locker, 46-BBut what she left he'd hav
Mr. Fear said, “Look for your feelings inside yourself, But don’t plagiarize from a bookshelf.” I wonder if I can. I suck at writing. It’s almost like I’m fighting
It has always struck me as odd, the idea that “loving you” and “losing you” are only one letter apart. This small difference is proved
Birth of a new creation A mother’s child Gentle as feline Bright as the sunlight, My little Lilly. Show Earth who you are
The door slammed shut into my five year old face I was just a little girl and I was already in this place I crawled into bed
hypocrites! If you look up the definition you'll find "A person who indulges in hypocrisy" Okay, well thank you, Google. So if you look up the definition of "hypocrisy," you find it is
Only Losers go to school; I taught myself how to move. I'm not the type to count on you - Cuz stupid's next to I Love You... No, in truth, this work's not mine.
Rippling through my tresses Lifting both my soul and my hemline The wind soars through me On the swings Flying up to the clouds Drifting back down again and again The wind is here for me
A Particular Taste - Part I
Brilliant flame among the dull ice shines brightly, bearing happy thoughts, but among the dead throng of ice, nothing burns or melts, but grows icier still. Why? Comet bright and bold caressing the heavens
There... Here... Gone...
Love is patient.
Weeks on end this fog has not lifted It blurs my vision and my mind's nerves are racing crashing, connecting, circling tangling itself with this dense fog. Today, the skies are gloomy
I am a student: submissive to my classes. I am a worker: always trying to be the best. I am a suck-up: forever bending, and kissing asses. I feel like my life is nothing but an endless test.
here i am writing
Quiet soul- shall I pray thee sleep in peace
Life Failure, Success Living, Striving, Winning Failure is just an obstacle Irony
You will not control me; I will not be controlled; I will defy your temptations and calls; You will not subdue me; My persistence will be my vessel; My determination will be my fuel;
“today i die"
We are trapped, We are lost, We need to get out, But we do not know where we are, We are slaves to the rich, Lets get on the piss, Lets charge the gates of gold, Lets break te chains,
It sits upon a desk, silent, stern. A thin black metal brick with a glass face that stymies my futile efforts to divine its nature, showing me nothing but the inquisitive
The man who you are suppose to be able to trust and love turns out to be the one you have to look out for the most. The man who was suppose to love you and never hurt you turns out to be the one who can't be trusted.
I Bet you don't know how some of us youths are trying Consistently attempting to filter and rebirth the "already drugged" mind whose views are confined to material wealth, sex and guns
I wanna commit suicide so I can go to heaven, But killing is a sin, so I might end up in hell.
I guess there was something about her Something she posses that I didn't have Or maybe it was your statements that I just couldn't grasp I know I wasn't the problem so why leave me blind
I come from the blood on my father's hands I rise for the different people who don't love themselves I stand against the empty pots in homes all over I come from the violence of the streets
They tell me I'm proper, too proper than I need to be
Every child reaches the age When their thoughts need no consent. When hearts twist and writhe, Simple encounters evoke torment. Days pass as moments, Slipping through the tightest of grips;
Only one thing I know is true Bad things can happen to good people And good things can happen to bad people. Even reversed, it remains true.
Atop rot sits our King of Filth,
The smell of the wet earth after it rains. The sounds of voices singing a song that my hero wrote. The sight of street art on the passing trains. The taste of whiskey right before it burns my throat.
tell me to go to hell tell me i'll burn there tell me i'm the devil's spawn i really dont fucking care tell me you'll pray for me tell me you have hope tell me i'm not that bad
Something took the rhyme from me I never felt it go But how to get it back again? Don't ask me; I don't know. Something took the rhyme from me like falling on my back
Do you ever stop to think about irony? I pursue those who reject me. I reject those who pursue me. What a mystery! That is simple irony. Do you ever stop to think about irony?
Sometimes I wish that the sun never set-
I'm just a number A nameless face you'll forget next year You only care about my grade
Pitch black fear, dark ominous death hangs over the heart, a creature lurks patiently waiting for its prey, low, drawn-out breaths tremble in the air, like notes from the great mourning trumpet of Heaven,
There was a man in the lake Whose good looks were but a fake. But the envy had spread To Narcissus’ head, And he drowned the man in the lake.
Being a teacher for the day I would get more done I would let the students teach I would make the class room fun Every once in a while I would give them a test With the answers on the board
Sometimes I wonder if you think about me? I think about you a lot probably more than I should I wonder if you are awake right now probably since it is only 6:26 p.m. Maybe I should get a hobby?
Nothing This poem means nothing No matter how hard you look Blue means blue, red means corrupt. I’m not Walter Whitman
A President in a funk Whose once broad support, now shrunk. All the voters now Prefer cash for cow. His career ends with a clunk.
Everyday we live our lives in dichotomy Will my decisions be wrong or right Straight or gay, fat or skinny, black or white If only things could be this obvious Trayvon was killed, and he walked
I traverse these halls and walk these streetsAnd yet I walk aloneI comfort strangers and help others in defeatYet my feelings are unknown
Once I watched a fly, struggle against a web, I stared as it twitched in horror, knowing it would soon be dead. Ever so gently, a small brown spider stepped on to its white, glossy trap.
Glass screams. Voices shatter. A window breaks; but even a broken window,
Where do we go when we go? Who can we ask? I don't know. I know who I should But I don't think they would Tell me cause I want to know.
From friends from before, to friends I’ve never met… Like playing cards they are, when the deck is shuffled Same cards, different cards, Or a mix of both.
Love, Love, Love, Love, Love Nothing is more joyful and painful than love It can break a heart or mend one It can tear people apart or bring them together It can cause stress or relieve it