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Counseling done before a live audience can never escape from being entertainment, which is sad that it has come down to those levels. Maury, is the worst of those shows.
Now I Have To Say... That In These Strange Days... My Use of Wordplay Is In A RICH VEIN... !!!!! From Reflecting On Things That Are Proving To STING... !!!
Ancient is the planet Dealing with the ancient cycles of hot and cold Ancient is how we view ourselves Our entire species living only a short time Our ancient selves living even less
in the movies, everyone’s grave is bloated with flowers mounds and mounds of vivid, vibrant petals scream memorials innocent, gorgeous, precious victims sweet grandmas or strong mothers
the media is rotting hiding gluttony for drama behind bright make up and sexy dresses they tell men that 'you can do this' while giving the girls restrictions  those restrictions are named things like manners
You are what made me. You are what brought me to my knees. You are what rose above me in triumph. You are my downfall.   I am what made You. I am what made You able to tower high above me.
Living, breathing, exposing ourselves to one another, I wanted more than anything to feel, touch, express like the others. The one in my life existed but they didnt, They could stay up all night with me whereas
First came birth as did we all, A neutral force guarded by angels.  Outside their influence lingers an evil, some of which we cannot discern. Two forces in my life have guided me. Two of the three primary colors.
My mind soughtNo politicsOnly a moments thoughtOn labs and lipsticks Only songs From followed artistsTheir electric prongsTheir truth alarmists
This is for the girls who believe the number on the scale, determines whether they are beautiful or not. This is for the men who don’t fit in the role of “tough man,” that media portrays them to be.
To the world:  "Doomsday strikes," prophets crow, from Fox and Twitter and NPR2012 has come again, An election, but one unfamiliar. "This country needs more unity,"
p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; line-height: 120%; }a:link { } Media Era Taught—to be an Adonis Instead, became honest Not a pawn I see who’s pawning, I want a free mind Stillborn—Still conscious
Journalism was my focus But nowadays media stories leave me hopeless Oh, what a world! When babies die, innocent lives are slain A person can shoot up a crowd then plead they're insane
I spoke with a friend yesterday.   And even though we're both white, the police had never been something that was on my mind because-- Well, everything was okay.  
America How could you? I trusted you, I believed  in you, And now with every passing day I weep As this once great nation is now in shambles.   How could we stray so far
The environment, it is our sacred right; We live it, we breathe it, but we don’t acknowledge its might.   Burning ourselves alive, we don’t see who’s deprived.
What would you change? A blind society blessed with vision through knowledge While screens worldwide buzz and ink splashes on paper Spreading gossiping, Hateful,
I get up in the morning because I’m angry Angry at the world, angry at the people in it Angry how the color of someone’s skin determines how they’re treated
I understand that you are adhered between a virtual you  as well as a abstract you who would of knew that your thoughts attracted light towards you?
Police… Hope for quiet… Someone calls in frightened… Hoping the law will save the day… Ten-four!   Mother… Sends son for milk… Halfway there silence breaks…
I used to think it was normal To cry for three hours about nothing. That it was normal To think about dying at least once a day.
Paint me perfect on your wall. Deep wine lips, erase the flaw. Pearly white teeth that I have always hidden. You’ll see a smile I view as forbidden.
Intangible and addicting  Each day I see it, each day I use itYet when without it I'm restlessWithout it seems nothing will fit 
Hi! I’m a fan. Or should I say, I am a breathing sex toy, screaming ATM machine, teeny-bopper obsessive drama queen? I am nothing! What’s funny is talking about celebrity culture—
She was beautiful Brighter than the sun And she was precious the boy knew she was the one   Beauty queen, you know her type, big city dreams A girl that is up all night  
You use racism as a mask to hide your inner desires. The sheep herders are just liars, but you choose to ignore it. This looks like rough justice, I need some solace in this time of distress, riots got me on edge.
Let's make this blunt like some marijuana. People never understand my mental process. How can someone so young have thoughts like these running through heir mind? Youth like me.
The phone rings again.
Corruption uses those faces Beautiful faces Have control in reality and illusion Spawning death everywhere   We need those pretty faces That inspire and hypnotize
What color is perfection? That elusive transcendence from reality That which demands unnecessary change I see you, and you are transparent.   I am flesh and bone I bleed when I am cut open
Free From everything I used to be                      Re-writing my history Picture by picture I’m finding me   I’m alright My hair plain brown, my face aged with time
Individuality is key to me  
Search Engine Status: Filtered.  Search in Images: Beautiful Woman  What you see:  symmetry  exposed skin  blinding perfection  small waists, thigh gaps, perfect features.  What it really is:
GoPro cameras and Selfie Sticks, our ancestors would be horrified. But it doesn’t matter because fabricated images, and fraudulent stories are glorified. What’s wrong with putting your best self out there?
College what a magical place.
iPhone 5s and the conformity has started Promised not to follow the pack yet I got the Xbox one regardless. I'm charged to the outlet, with my device in hand
I don't have all the money in the world Who does? Money equals beauty? Does it really? Money only equals greed and a bombastic attitude I don't have all the money in the world Who does?
How quickly we come to forget Those who do not sit with us Things that don't affect us For an instant we care Then we move on   It's been eight whole months... #BringBackOurGirls
Judge me by my size, i've had it with these magazine lies.
I work and work, I grind and grind, Go about my day with leaving nothing behind. I train night and day like there's no tomorrow. Because the thought of failing fills me with sorrow.
Our Generation is so caught up in showing people what we don't truley have We put filters on our pictures to cover up the lies that we hide inside
My Instagram profile is what I choose to show you: The concert I went to Saturday night, And my bloody nose from the mosh pit.
Hey,   This is a poem about the media and advertising, and how it has an impact on us.   Enjoy! Feedback welcome.   Cheers, David
 Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Breathe in then breathe out Pitch black   The smell outside Is the smell of a future Thrown away into the depths
When you think about change, what do you think about? Changing yourself, others, your community, the world? Media has come to make people want to change themselves. It picks at people  and publicizes every little mistake.
america  bbq and Budlight corporations
  So some of my friends recently asked me, want to go swimming today? And I gave them a foul, foul look, and stated without delay No. I clearly don’t want to swim in the pool so you can go play
Gems and Dimonds and most of the lot are smeared and bruised  by life's dirty plots so thus we gems  so thus we diamonds work from dust to bring new light  we are not perfect
Girls. Overpriced makeup. It Differentiates those who want to be from those who... Are?
they look at her with big bright eyes little do they know she rages inside they look at her like she's an angel sent from above little do they know she's far from being jesus white dove
The world is full of hate drenched in the cynical behavior that we come to know women are starving to achieve the level or perfecton that photo editors create children are bullied
I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, To see who I am and wonder if I need to change.  The media shows us that we are  inferior, That without being slim and muscular we are strange.
We're sorry for that brief interruption 
I will remain silent
Remember not everything you see is what truly was. Remember not everything you hear is what occured. Remember not everything that someone else has, Is the truth of reality.  
Our eyes were once open, and now are closed shut.   At that moment we got the notion that our freedom was stolen a problem arose.  
There's one person walking down the road, and another person walks up behind this person, and assaults him. Then the  police step in.   They find the culprit, and reveal the information
Verse 1: We taint the air with idle words Cause sticks and stones hurt the most What’s a jab to the bird? What’s a duel to a roast? Shoot….    
What do you look like? Where are you? How do I know it's you? Did I do it right? When do I show you off? Who do I show you off to?  
You are more than this.Than glamour magazines.Than women on the runway.Than girls at the makeup counter.
television is a place where people do not look like me at all
My Generation  Oh my sweet generation      What has become of us SHALLOW SOULS  Unconsciously submerging ourselves into this deep hole A hole called society
When I was growing up, I was told to always fight for what I believe in. Whether it's for the greater good or for sin. But when I entered school, I was told to think differently. To just be a good person and not to express myself publicly.
A life of a cell without a living cellis not much of a happy life at all.You humans make my life a living hellEvery time you slip and make me fall.
Magnificence was not something I questioned as I child Certain People deserved to be heard
Initially I was a Marketing
Infants, toddlers, new-borns *Cutest wittle cheeks I’ve ever seen!* BABIES.   They were the last two of the sweetest and most ripe apples From the tree whose roots lay the foundation of mankind
The bright i
Still like water, in the shade of palms Beneath the arms, of a desert sun This soul is calm, with the frequencies Of the cosmos, flowing through me Blue sky across rough horizon Endless are these dry oceans
Singers, celebrities, artists, Concerts, shows, events… Famous or unknown, Advocates or critics, Succeeds or failures. The importance of promotion, Right management and development.
  I love the media. It’s interesting and fun and keeps us all connected, on one page. But don’t get me wrong… I don’t enjoy the propaganda, the mendacious ads and suffocating numbers,
  People hurt people. People hurt eachother because they've been hurt by people. People killing eachother over people, afraid to love because the pain caused by people.
5'8 107 Pounds 23" waist Yes I'm SKINNY Does my outer appearance bother you? I'm happy with my body rather you like it or not. All you are worried about is TITS and ASS.
God teaches us love, Compassion, Grace, Honesty, Patience, God shows us love, That we are all treasures, That we are worth sacrifices, That we are all perfect in His eyes,
When I was little, I was fat.
What would I change...? A whole hell of alot if you ask me.... Why is the melanine in one's skin persecuted? Why are people hate for their sexuality? Why are people considered aliens...?
  Days change, seasons change We age Minds grow hormones flow We rage Images, false images enough is enough Display something real What’s the point of touch ups?
We survive in a world of consumption No compassion for the surrounding How can we agree that we even live
  Clickity-clack The hands do smack Over keyboards of our Macs Tweeting our bros back.   Shorts up ya butt. Praised is the slut. The preppies want the purebreds,
  Let’s go to the dawn of creation Where god shaped the nation               To roam free and revel in his creation, Molded by his hand he gave man, A world,  A garden,  A sea,
Wealth, it's such an illusion. Seeing it on TV causes us confusion. The rich sitting and doing nothing but indulging in luxuries. Never revealing the hard work put into their companies. Every effect has a cause.
A journalist at heart   A product of creativity, A journalist at heart, My canvas is the TV. No one can pull us apart.   An earpiece and a microphone, My other kinds of friends,
clickclickclickclick goes the key board as i sip my morning tea. Spiling, gushing ,spewng my deepest trauma and heatache. My therapy, your guilty pleasure. The best job, if you ask me, is that of a writer.
I'm back, but I'm falling apart I'm back, but I'm lacking the heart, That I need to keep movingAnd what do I think I'm proving? Starving for attentionReceiving it in the form of tension,
All we see, all we hear.
Our generation
Steel rafts of ocean hands             Pearl into icy depths             Piercing through its smooth skin             Breaking the shocks of energy             Through thick blue
I once was A girl caged in lonliness; living nightmare The devil on my back Crawled in my head
  All that matters Is a pretty face A plastic society’s vulgar taste Starve yourself till you are thin Repeat this process over again
I am too chubby, You can see that girl's ribcage, And she's too normal.   I wear boot-cut jeans, That one's in booty shorts, And she only wears skirts.   Society claims
I pledge allegianceto the mediaof the United States of Americaand to the partyfor which it speaksan entire nationunder the influenceuninformedwith propaganda and deception for all.
what if there were no mirrors and she didn't turn on the television mesmerized by fluttering fake eyelashes and airbrushed cheekbones on cloud nine she wouldn't touch her reflection
we are taught to remove our individuality because no one likes a weirdo
Raise your hand,If you’ve ever wondered whyPeople like you are rarely seenIn shows and movies.
You take one voice
My wish  is that the world would squish
Sick and tired of the glares and grimaces Because I look different than the rest I could look just like them; painted faces
Be this your occupation Or unholy mutilation We walk the earth in unity United in our scrutiny
I’m an abomination to this domestication society creates in women everyday I create my own flow to my own voice in ways that create mini earthquakes
“Can I have that to go?  But why do I ask? Time doesn’t go slow, And I have no better task.   But we are always running, Away to better things. Our aversion is stunning,
i dream of happier days:before the cell phone,her now-constant companion.before computers, iPods.before she caredabout how she looks.about fitting in,conforming.back when a night light 
  What is this nation coming to? What are “We the People” gonna do? People are going out of their way to be known. If you wanna be cool then you need an iPhone.
This poem is an insight on the compromise of society's morals, and how we are rapidly discouraging the exploration of spirituality while encouraging materialism.   Plastic brains are statistic,
I woke up this morning with a smile on my face I love being able to tell myself it'll be okay   Even though last night was nothing but a mess I was able to wake up this morning with no stress  
Here I am, Just Another Walking around just like any other Bounded by the lies I'm told Growing sad, as I grow old   Here I am, Just Another Grasping words of big brother
He flies, they always catch him. He flies, why did they fail? He flies, now alone. He lands, they lie at his feet as the rain falls. He rises again soaring the skies, the robin of his mother's dreams. 
When it is between white and color it's all over the news, But when its black against black it gets no views! This is normal just like sinners behind pews. How is the stench of dead boys on the streets nothing new?
Oh. Thick girls? They are better than Big girls. Big girls are like big.  Thick Girls are just better Said everyone.  Big girl  Big girl No loves you they said, lose weight they tell me
Shit I Can't Say To My Teacher really should be Shit I'm Not Supposed To Say To My Teacher There's an everlasting system of authority that makes it impossible for me to ask questions
Brainwash the children of the nation with songs by Drake  omg becky look at her butt you only live once dripping with misogyny  stupid sayings  strangle our minds into believing
Remember that day you felt you could never compare That feeling that life just couldn't be fair Remember the tears that flooded your eyes That feeling that life is a pile of lies
This girl who is she?  What is her means ? She has been throrugh alot Alot of things you have never seen. They say she's jamaican but is that all to her ? She seems that she has something else to offer.
"I like a long-haired, thick red bone", he saysas he yanks her, drags her, and spreads her legs.Her mouth is sewn shut, but her body screams, "more!"because her man on the screen showers her in Gucci and Couture.
an army of the ugly, charged with structured thought, taught to teach brands upon our brainsmarch through our minds to master our imagination, mocking mother earth's memory of the
Beauty is unreachable Love is just a game Lies become believable Others thrive off of our pain
I admit that I hate I'm feeling alone... Checking for texts with every second, But the black covers my phone. It doesn't light up every minute Like my sister and my mom's So I keep waiting here, here
Who am I to think I’m beautiful?Disproportionate at every angle, my figure is shaped like that of a pear’s.And any claims to beauty seem to be rare,because I can hardly stand the sight of my body bare.  
We're so Starving.   Looking in the mirror, mistaking what we see for what we believe Knowing the media makes billions of off billions of insecurities. Humans on their knees, ashamed to feed
I love listening to old school music, Admiring the sound of Jazz, I would love if rappers would finely use it, Making music that sweetly whispers to my soul, I wish that was the main goal,
  F**k the old me, I’m the new me, a past life full of groupies/ Controlled by tv and movies, "b***hes and money" is what I need, see my greed?/ Sex was to join the cool kids, sit at their table, and power enabled/
Little girls growing up. Limited in their visions. Little boys growing up. Limited in their prosperity.  Who are we? We the people. We are supposed to be free. Who are we? We the people. We are meant for simplicity.
Models are tens, are dressed to the nines, Sneak away with photographers behind closed blinds. Silhouettes pinch at the waist, like the skin on their face, too tight to relax 
Enraged, I, glancing to you-ward— in effect noticing your depravity, Tasting your terrible toxin within— I feel at enemy with my servant, My throng of entertainment. The buzz you issue does not retain
  Camera, cameras, flash. Click, Click, snap.  The people all stare but it’s my job not to care. She tells me I’m pretty, he tells me I’m fine. But it’s always there, in the back of my mind.
Look at society and see the reflection in the mirror isn’t finished.All because you weren't "blessed" to meet the criteria of the "image"-  Straight teeth, long hair, size zero waist, 20/20 vision.
Chain me up and my actions follow the pattern Thinking freely becomes a problematic matter Breaking free from labels becomes unease Your self doubt is for the world to feed Our thoughts is for us to own and probe
  This just in:      a family went hungry last night,      a woman died of breast cancer,      and a child was hit by a drunk driver.   In other news:      overpopulation, global warming, AIDS,
"I pledge allegiance to the magazines of the United States of America,  and to the "Skinniness" for which it stands, one model, under Media, dependant, with biasness and happiness for some."
I will remain silent Just as soon as I get this off my tongue Let me tell you That I’m not the one To conform To the social norms Set by society I’ve been in poverty
Reach that limit Watch the birds fly above in complete aw Take the time to move yourself the way the man above planned you to move Just Take That Time!
My reflection stares back in pity I reject it And then it hit me; The truth is No matter how much they sell My legs won’t grow and my lips won’t swell My cheekbones won’t rise
There is something creeping over us. Demeaning, disrespectful and dangerous. We sense it, yet feed it. Taking over our lives. Fake, cynical, and wasteful. It’s an addiction that grows.
Women. The evolution has changed drastically. First there were role models, then there were icons But now a red sole defines one as her majesty. From the likes of Sojourner to Rosa
That Dominique Venner’s death hedged the American conscious comes as little surprise. Still, we might as well appreciate the headlines, which survived a half-day within the modern stream of techno-news
Feelings. internal Expressions. external The vastness of the mind. immeasurable All the reason why. Unfathomable How do you begin understand something. Untamed How do you understand your self. Deranged
In the beginning, There was a God for all A fierce parent Loving and righteous. But men bent him In their own image- A lily-white God with blond hair Fair and beautiful And biased.
Blindly, we follow and nod our heads to the beat. Lyrics are nonsense when music is an industry. Nobody wants to think. Nobody wants to learn. We defer to the media to dictate our concerns.
I feel strong But I feel weak I feel proud, Yet I feel bleak I feel gorgeous And grotesque I feel pretty When I’m dressed I see fair girls But I wonder Are they really
I wanna be the bitch in the media. I wanna be shallow and have power I wanna have the power to tell girls they’re inadequate I wanna fuck up self esteems, hurt feelings, kill dreams
The media controls how beauty is defined, He may be a follower, or he may be left behind. I give you the test, the one that tells in time, How you may be judged, or aren't right in the mind.
How am I supposed to know? Cultures vary Numerous interpretations What’s considered deviant Or acceptable vary By cultural perspective
Read to hell. What a strange school of thought… A sort of road as well. Double cheeseburger and a beer, both bought Because of an ad in a magazine: Reading as consumers, like we are taught.
Like an Eskimo, I wear many layers I am kept hidden away Safe from discovery or attack Each layer represents insecurity I put on more layers I want to stay hidden Unnoticed
I wish that I didn’t have to tell you how beautiful your body is. I wish that the world would shout about the beauty in the map of your skin. The freckles, stretch marks, bumps and scars
I felt the frost on my tongue, because I was growing young and the sun didn't shine from the words I spoke. I kissed a flower as I smelled a delicate perfume and walked in a cold garden among a cold world.
The time passes by unnoticed is it leaving so fly it happens so quickly like the change that happens in or world from friends to enemies Is it because we are not alike why?the media changes who we are
I'm what?!? Oh you say i'm weird as in erie, different, or abnormal, right? Does it bother you.... you know, that i'm not like you or your crew Am i offending you? Well sorry to hear that!
Memories Time to dance. London Beckoned songs about sins Not tragedies. Written by Mona Lisa Always money and hurricanes. Build God and thank God for nails For breakfast.
when I was in high school learning to take the tenets of journalism like the sacraments of Christ we learned a wealth of rules; some matter more than others but I must have missed the day
When my mobile phone buzzes, I am wide-awake and in anticipation. I need to see what somebody did In relation to my life. Somebody has interacted With me. I matter. I have made an appearance
Everything used to be so black and white Suits that men wore, the color on a T.V. screen, The photographs that took hours to print. But so were the beliefs of our countrymen. It was either black or white—no gray area.
All gathered around Our curse the plasma bright screen Our entertainment has changed All from Satellite From one network to more The H.D. black box
Who started this trickery? This ever shrinking waist There is no debate That skin and bones is not why men fantasize But you say and you starve Perfection is what you are aiming for Clothes in the front
like the word wealth my true nature is hidden behind Digital image or lyrical gimmicks The fiddler collects winnings when the starved jack pots though ein by jeden
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