Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
CC Oct 2017
A yellow bird sits on my knee
It says "Hello, I am reincarnated mother"
She was dead picking the poisoned flower
From the shelf of her wayward children
We have no way of knowing right from wrong
We will go on living as rebellious bird daughters
Flitting from heart to heart
Seeking shelter in men's broken parts
Crying when we cannot start
Laughing when we finish money
Eating away our sadness
Motherless daughters without any stress
Trading our mother's feathers for a new dress
Frozen in place
Filled with despair
Looking back
You never did care
You got what you want
To me that wasn't fair
I worked hard
But never got a share
So why, I don't understand
Why you throw everything away
I wouldn't dare!
Alan S Bailey Jan 2017
It doesn't matter what I say
And it doesn't matter what they know,
Tomorrow for me will be a rainy day
After they're through sending me where
No one even knows I may go.

And no matter what happens to me,
You'll be fine-fancy free,
You're all the same, just looking for something
Or someone that looks just like me to blame,
No one would hurt you just the same.

*And what was the point for this madness
That won't ever come to an end?
No attempt to find a way to ease the tension?
Why can't peace between us ever begin?
So you can always be certain you'll always win.
Brent Kincaid Jun 2016
I found seashells and driftwood,
Cans and bottles and much more
Like diapers and picnic stuff
While walking along the shore.
I found cigarette butts and bags
And those horrendous soda holders
That catch on sea life and twist them
In their middle or at their shoulder.

I saw palm trees and jacaranda
Waving in the balmy breeze
And broken plastic lawn chairs
Leaning against the lovely trees.
I found six-packer carriers sitting
With all the beer bottles inside.
I saw pieces of bicycles and big batteries
And I swear I almost sat and cried.

But I had too much to do right then
Gathering up all that random junk.
I carried them to a ******* bin
And I threw it all in, kerthunk!
I wondered for the hundredth time
The parents these creeps had
That let them grow so ill behaved,
And so embarrassingly bad.

What kind of selfish brat can come
And look out on this lovely scene
And throw their ******* all around?
How can they be so mean?
It makes me hope for recompense;
That what goes around come again
And we can stash these human pigs
Into an appropriate kind of pen.
Aditi Kumar May 2016
This is my home
This is where I sleep
This is where I hope
This is where I dream.

This is where I cry
This is where I scream
This is where I'm home
This is where I'm me.

I live for it,
Breathe it in:
All the faults
In the skyline
But the breathtaking dawn
Is my lifeline.

This is where I raise my voice
This is where I made my choice
This is where I decided what to give
This is where I decided to live.
My city is still the beautiful wonderland it was when I was still little, in my eyes. I love it with all my heart. I would do anything for it.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2016
I am the oldest kid so
Stop playing with that baby.
I want you to myself.
It’s all about me.

The other kids at school
A behaving so horribly
They don’t understand
It’s all about me.

I am so sorry you have
Fallen so hard for me.
But I have to be moving on.
It’s all about me.

I’m going to quit my job
Because it’s boring me.
So many creeps there.
It’s all about me.

I’m running for office
And it’s going swimmingly
After all, in this job
It’s all about me.

I don’t have to specify
Or make promises readily.
I just smile and tell lies.
It’s all about me.

My kids are obnoxious
They need attention constantly.
Don’t they understand?
It’s all about me.

My life would be better
If people behaved sensibly.
After all, the reality is
It’s all about me.
It’s all about me.
It’s all about me.
cait-cait Feb 2016
spoiled girls are sad too.
I AM SO SAD
Wickedness in our bones.
It is to what humans are prone.
Sin in our demeanor
Is a much over looked horror.
Children riding bikes with no handle bars,
To show off to the the world that they are on par.
People eating food for sport,
While people starve, just to throw it up afterwards for fan support.
This is my last resort for salvation,
Solitude and sanitation.
I wish that someone would tell me I'm fine,
But nothing is left that can truly shine.
This is the madness,
The anger and sadness.
That has made blackness in our spoiled hearts.
The words "Till death do us part."
Do not even mean anything anymore.
This world is so sore..
©LogenMichel copyright 2016
Under the sheets of emotional armor,
A shy little girl masquerades as a martyr.
She’s the Queen of Deceit with her lies getting smarter,
While every tale told draws her self even farther
From finding out why she’s emotionally bothered
By all of the men in her life: like her father
Who only was trying the best for his daughter
And striving to be something more than a pauper
But coming up short. Who knows how much harder
He’d try if she wasn’t an argument starter?
The guilt and the shame from the family slaughter
Has made her insane and continues to bar her
From finding out just what the world has to offer.

Luckily she won’t have to be here much longer;
In fairy-tale land, there's nothing can harm her.

She suddenly finds herself all alone
With nobody’s thoughts to address but her own.
This is the time when she’d pick up the phone,
Demanding a savior to hear her bemoan
About all the problems that she’s ever known,
But what she doesn’t know is a friend can’t atone
For the lack of a man with his patience to loan
To a lost little girl whose bad temper is known.
All she needs is a strong one that doesn’t condone
All the treacherous lies and the hatred she’s shown.
It’s hard to deny all the reaping she’s sewn.
She’ll have to tread soft lest her cover is blown
And everyone finds out she still hasn’t grown
Through the hundreds of tempers and tantrums she’s thrown.
Hopefully soon she can bury the bone
And calm herself into a nostalgic zone
Where smiles and candles were filling her home
And love and affection were all that was loaned.

Enlightenment comes when you realize you’re prone
To the wrath of the heartache that comes with the throne.
Damsel in distress
Brent Kincaid Dec 2015
The children of today befoul
Their grandparents with disrespect
And nurture their own children
With television shows and neglect.
They don’t teach children to be kind
And fail to teach them not to cheat.
So they grow up morally blind
Expecting to be paid to be sweet.

These kids were raised defectively
That hits it on the nose.
When you treat them so neglectfully
That’s just the way it goes.
They grow thinking they can get
Everything they desire.
And when they fail to get their way
They set the place on fire.

Now we have generations of them
Like hogs on the living room couch
Shoving their faces greedily
Like they’re a royal grouch.
They ***** if they think someone
Is getting more than they do.
But ask them to vote differently
And they whine they don’t want to.

They never notice that they dress
Like they did as in their teens.
Football jersies, shoes untied
Baseball caps and old jeans.
They say the same old crap
They used to say, not much new
About girls, and the car they drive
And what they’d like to do.

These kids were raised defectively
That hits it on the nose.
When you treat them so neglectfully
That’s just the way it goes.
They grow thinking they can have
A life of nothing but fun.
And when they fail to get their way
They go and get a gun.

Ask them names of those people
Got elected to represent.
Most of them barely know
The name of the President.
They don’t vote, they don’t go
Even so far as the local PTA.
This is the American voter
The kind we put up with today.

These kids were raised defectively
That hits it on the nose.
When you treat them so neglectfully
That’s just the way it goes.
They grow thinking they can get
What other people own.
It’s like these losers found a way
To live in the Twilight Zone
Next page