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dylan-lavercombe
dylan-lavercombe
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People keep pulling faces, but I never see the smiles, Neck down, **** empty bank account, Because we're always stuck in these isles, Next, drown, one bottle down, regrets found, Adding depth to piles, I tried, We get hung up by the ropes they pull, Left to dry, Like these tobacco leaves, I smoked one down to the bone in a cemetery, While the cremated ashes drifted off into the breeze, Often like my thoughts do, I always stopped and paused to appease you, I put the cigarette **** in my shoe instead of throwing where the dead slept, Felt anxious my grandfather might visit, Because we haven't met yet, The possibility, Thinner than the ice in my freezer tray, Remember the lies? But i wasnt any better with the ones I used to say, in fact worse, Sometimes mirrors are all that keep you thinking you're alive these days, This one is called, Graveyard Curse, Its all he say she say.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
Graveyard Curse
Half the day wasted in dreams, Fines to pay, Night spent looking for sense, it seems, Everything has changed but routine is the same, Late at night on my way home Dogs bark like guys act out dominance, adding depth and tone, Egos seem bottomless, Time lapse of mishaps, Right and wrong, lost deep in my sub conscious, Write all night long, streets full of alcoholics, As they stumble past, In the parks echo’s of humble laughs, These are, Shark infested waters, Most decent fish in the sea have already been hooked, Some controlling like borders, It's been more than twice since I've looked, Frogger got squashed on the road Tried to cut the corners, Lead dagger pierces my mind, Thoughts spill out like the blood of a tragedy, Snap back to life, Junkies stabbing at my reality, Notes over my apathy for change, I drop words like a rock off a balcony, Needles in the back lanes, Wine casks lay, as empty as my wallet, Real hunger, no games, On the search for dollars, But don't want to be locked in chains, And living in the complete squalor.
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Notes Over My Apathy For Change.
Emotions thinner than the tin That my dinner came from Ambitions gone like my mind At the party after prom Skin scratched and stained A life time of regret Worth the pain Not wanting to get out of bed in the morning Legs gone lame But no ones mourning No reason to find direction Writing plain, without discretion Caring little and less about forged perfection Living on a disposable income Hoping I find long term affection Still waiting patiently on that one discovery Anything to separate myself from me My shins from my knees There's a windy city chill But there's no use blaming the pills Hands left hanging Like a bandanna Dangling, waving From the homeless man's head Expression couldn't make me a dime In todays market of drones Still feeling fine Without staring into my phone
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Thinner Than Tin
I lost my way through the empty place, vacant, with an unrecognizable face, the nails stick out of the frame, trying to recall when my last tetanus shot was, i remember the pain, couldn't feel the blood rushing out, they asked me what i was looking at, laying on the ground, i said "the trees, birds, the way the leaves blow in the breeze, a peaceful sound, they tried to calm my nerves, but i was calm, as calm as the water at low tide, on that early morning, stolen, boat ride, those are the memories i will have for ever, my dearest memory, and when i say dearest memory, i mean it cost me alot, after that court date and probation meeting on the 6th of January,
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
A Peacefull Sound
I walk out of the corner store and put the chocolate bar in my jacket, And a pregnant lady looks at me, With a child of her own soon to be, I bet she wonders will her son roam the streets, Late at night, Even the thought gave her a fright, I walked across the road to go sit on a bench to watch the cars go by in peace, I sometimes do that when my friends are out of reach, I watched the store close, the clerk finally free, A moment later a middle aged man drove in with his white Toyota, He was fiending for cigarettes, but the clerks shift was over, He yelled let me in, come on, let me in, But the clerk already counted the money in the till, I then started to grin, Because i got my chocolate bar, and he missed out on the cheapest cigarettes in town that were more important to him,
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
People On The Street Around Me
Cigarette butts lay wasted on the ground, Burnt up, Like an old man coming home at the end of the day with a frown, His retirement funds aren't really up to scratch, So he has to keep working, Working to feed the alcoholic addiction that eases the pain in his back, The yard work is well overdue, For his brittle home, Through a white paint chipped windowsill view, Like a graveyard tombstone,   He vaguely remembers the days under the summer time sun, But enjoyed the colder winters, Watching snow fall, Exhaling smoke from his lungs, Climbing the fence getting wood chipped splinters, He's in the shopping centre looking for the simple milk, baked beans and bread, Everyone's moving past him at such fast pace, with shoulders bumping into him And no one turns a head, To say sorry or to explain why the fast race, He walks along a path in his home town, Picking up things from his past, His memory is in pieces like broken bottles that lay wasted on the ground, Treading over broken glass, I don't know where to end this poem, I guess you can say he spent the rest of his days on his porch watching the cars go past, Smoking cheap cigars, And taking sips of scotch from his father’s silver embroidered flask.
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Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Old Time
You know its 5am when you hear the birds start to chirp, And the sound of water boiling for my dads morning coffee, I can’t keep my eyes closed, All my thoughts seem to stop me, All night they've been running through my head, I start to think, A thousand miles and hour, Things like, "figure life out Dylan", You need will power, to succeed, But not to the point where my mind is corrupt by money and greed, And all the hate that comes with its need, Or should i say want, We make the important things obscure, And blow up which celebrity is on drugs and lost, Which diamond rings are new in stock, And how many lives they cost, each, I think its sick, teens wanting an eating disorder and being malnourished because its "Hot"? No wonder i can’t sleep.
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
No Wonder I Cant Sleep.
All the dogs seem to bark as i trespass, Treading on dirt and broken glass, And other miscellaneous things from my past, My shoes absorb the moisture from the dew on the wet grass, And i wonder how much Adrenalin the sirens will bring, If they do ring, i hope enough to get away, To wake in my bed the next day, As i walk, i look to the city lights, You! May call this criminal activity, But to me and my friends these were prime nights, I reminisce of a time or two, But only time will tell, What life i choose.
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Only Time Will Tell.
Dad said i should get a life, and do what it means to be a man, Instead of just dreaming and holding a spray can, Whats life without expression? I'm just a shell with no emotion, He told me i need direction, "Like hey, that job has good money" but comes with such a cost, Id rather keep a flat wallet, And how do you know you've found meaning in life when you've always seemed so lost, I understand what i have in my hands, and i don't want to sound cliché like "man, I'm just a lost teen" But we all think differently, and i don't want a life with routine, Life at fifteen was so much easier, Waiting for the evening end, to head out under the city lights, From one place to another to end up some place else the next night.
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 2:52 AM UTC
Dad said i should get a life.
Eating my meal at the usual fast food spot, Public intimacy at the counter, That love bird love, Seeing person after person walk in, So many memories in this very seat, From back then, Some moved on, some still in touch, Those days when adrenalin was frequent, The blood, my heart, would rush, I still remember sitting on that hill, In isolation staring out, Into the stars and clouds, Wondering what life's about, This poem, written on a fast food napkin, Concentration clouded, By the noise of laughter and a screaming kid tantrum The skate home that night, My jacket shielded the cold from my neck, It was 1 o'clock, no people, no cars in sight, Except, That one police car flying by, Colors of blue and red, With it sirens ringing, Past my head.
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Napkin Poetry