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There was a looming sadness cast over the age of men, a shadow of the greatness to come.
Oh, how this place has become
I was never a part of the in-crowd. Frequently misunderstood. Floating away, and away, from the unspoken traditions of the social kingdom. "The last of a dying breed" as SchoolBoy Q once remarked.
i was a broken heart tied up with frayed down string bitterness sweetened by your artificial things and when i fell asleep you were a guide to me walked me through walls of lies
I exist only on the brink of unsure,
The fllwing poem is two Elizabethan sonnets placed back-to-back. Evolution favors those most adept. It favors those with knowledge to move on. So while the giraffes with the short necks slept,
The script extracted from our minds within the confines of a classroom that is not poetry the feelings artificial the meaning absent it is that of mindless amateur literature
I'm used to this feeling, the loneliness. Asking me why, I'm lonely.he's not here to hold me,in this lonely place. When this feeling comes,The razor comes out.my wrists bleed.
Artificial Funny that a word that has art in it means fake Fake friends, fake love, fake mistakes I don’t know what to believe anymore Artificial enemies, artificial news Artificial old, now, and you
The darkness around can't get any darker and the sound of my thoughts can't get any louder
Shut the door Turn off the light Close the blinds It's an artificial night. Shut out the light, The blinding white Give me the dark I want an artificial night.
You think you're so sweet Calling me sugary pet names Like Babe, or Honey. Covering up Condescending, Sugar-Coated words Feeding me sprinkle-topped bull shit. You substitute words