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Gimmicks. Gimmicks give me kicks like treats and tricks. Gimmicks give me name a face and me butt a place. Gimmicks give me eyes looks
1,000 friends in a life time you could make. Unfortunately; most will turn out fake. Only a few will prove themselves true. As you do them, they care about you.
I have never felt something like this in my life I mean you move me Move me to the point where i will change my ways for you I will stop my habits and improve myself for you if that is what you desire
Because I Love You, we are not perfect and that’s just perfect Dirty, mortal menaces we are Constantly staining our white cloths,
Let go the emotions Let go the affection Tell me you love me tell me your personality i admire your humbleness your smooth words is what im craving for you talking in my ear makes me feel some type of way
Dazzling people made of gold, Dazzling people made of cold Material, dazzling people made Of glitter and stuck together with glue. Dazzling people made of lipstick Lipstick, kisses, stains on cheeks
Everyone talks about being real But it seems like The things that are real to them Are new cars, posting statuses, horny rap artists, bright lights, and mobile devices All these 'real' things
“loved ones, your feelings determine mine” this is what my voice proclaims but does my heart truly sympathize? i encourage you to confide in me but is just it to reciprocate my ego?
It is easy to feel pain, feel anger and feel bad about my life I want to stab the memories, to murder them with a knife Some days I stare at the mirror and it’s far from easy
Roses are red Violets are blue My name is Nick But for some odd reason Some call me Nickypoo
Woman Glowing, lively Anxious, robust, purposed Determined and always smiling
Fancy pictures with all those colors, brightness, borders, and edits on myslef without the real me in it. with all that gone and out the picture, whats left of it is me. my genuine slef no other then me
Layer upon layer of masks. One small, one red, one plagued with faux happiness. A mask of royal purple. A mask as silver as starlight. The streets are crowded with personalities, each one unique as a gem.
My words without a filter, They are pulses ripped from my heart, They are thoughts carefully caught from the darkest depths of my brain, They are not affected by this so called casual speech that many people engage in
Searching for the light I am the best friend found in the night. The smile adorning my face matches the smile in my soul. Others perhaps fail to give grace, I strive to make others whole.
Who am I Behind the filter of a picture I am a man with very much to remember I have a story that is not yet over Black man living past 18 is the luck of a 4 leaf clover The story that is not told
There’s a woman there, I can see her. She stands out to me, it’s her eyes. Something about the way she’s staring back at me grabs me.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Will I ever be a
How does it feel to be trapped behind a screen? In a world without dimension where perception is key. We iron our hair and puff out our lips in hopes that they don’t see What’s real?
Through an Instagram lens its often hard to see the bigger picture Every post is worth a thousand words And some of them are meant to injure
Where did what's right and what's beautiful become so intertwined? When did I becomed defined only by my jaw line? Why does #MasterCleanse and #LookingThin appear more than #Eating and #LetLoose?
I am everything I could ever ask When time flits away my inner beauty thrives Guiding me to the infinite fountains
So who is the man in the mirror? The real one- you know? The one behind the filter hidden away, disquised because no matter how hard he tries... There is something different--
I no longer have the desire to impress and feel the stress That a society has created to only make me feel repressed My being was not created to be superficial But only beautiful without the artificial
Hidden behind the screen
Sometimes, my teeth seem slightly rotten with a honey residue considering, weekends I forget to brush, Or how my hair waves in this condescending way when I clinch my fist together.
I am Broken.
Real love By: Winston Mayo
Snap ! Zoom, get centered more, then delete. Twenty to fifity shoots until we get the one that is unique. Taking photos for others to critique.
What will it take for you to see that I just want to be. A friend, not a lover, cause I know you have another. Understand ? or is that to hard to comprehend, that a guy can just be. I just want to be.