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Chabadtzke Jun 2019
There once was a boy
And that boy was named Me
The boy had a heart
and a head, and a knee

He had other limbs, too
But what puzzled him most
Was the sensitive heart
to which he was host

What lay inside it?
And why was it there?
What made it cry
when its soft skin would tear?

The boy was intrigued
And so one rainy night
He got out of bed
and he turned on the light

He went to the kitchen
and got a small blade
He paused for a moment
a little afraid

He took off his shirt
So it wouldn't get stained
when he'd open his heart
to see what it contained

He steadied his hand
and dug into his gut
He ripped out his heart
and started to cut

Ignoring the pain
he continued to slice
Secrets, he knew,
always come at a price

As his heart shrunk in size
Like a punctured balloon
The boy understood
that he'd die very soon

He reached the last layer
and peeled the last peel
And the last thing he saw
Was a small ball of steel
Yeah, it's a little morbid. Deal with it.
Chabadtzke May 2019
Objection, your Honor!
On behalf of the accused,
I demand that this excessively
    harsh sentence be reduced!

Beside that, Your Honor
Can judgement be dispensed
Behind the subject’s back
    and without hearing his defense?

Moreover, Your Honor
Is this what you call fair?
To destroy, with zero evidence
    a man and his career?

But answer me, Your Honor
—Though I highly doubt you can—
Who gave you the authority
    to judge your fellow man?
Chabadtzke May 2019
If life is a song
    with its ups and its downs
    its smiles and frowns

If life is a song
    which bridges and loops
    as it rises and droops

If life is a song
    with the drops and the jumps
    the falls and the bumps

If life is a song
    and it’s beat, the clock’s ticks
        why must mine be
                a DJ mix?
Drama is exhausting.
Chabadtzke May 2019
If I ever said I revel in darkness,
I misspoke.
If I ever sang the praises of dusk,
I was mistaken.

Because it’s not the dark I enjoy,
nor is it the night I adore.
I realize that now.

It’s the contrast
—the beauty—
of the specks of light
shining through the black sky,
the heroes who are not fazed by the sunset.
I realize that now.

I realize that now, on a cloudy night.
Chabadtzke Aug 2018
There is a class
Across the sea
That's small in size
With students, three

The students' names
And average grades
Are A, B, C
The roll-book states

Of the trio
A's the one
Who aces tests
And frowns on fun

The apple of
His teacher's eye
A has nary
Cause to cry

Kid C exults
In being bad
He signs his name
"Rebellious Lad"

His afternoons
He's proud to mention
He spends with teacher
In detention

A classic class
Don't you agree?
What's that you say?
Oh, pardon me!

There's also B!
I quite forgot
An oversight-
Thanks a lot!
A tribute to all the B students out there, I acknowledge your existence! I myself was never a B student (instead I swing violently between A and C) but I try to sympathize with them.
Chabadtzke Jul 2018
In the snow and the slush
I'm walking in a rush
Walking fast, coming last
And my toes are losing touch

Snow be upon me, and render me helpless

It's raining cats and mice
And the window don't entice
Water wet, mix with sweat
Under awnings and street lights

Rain be upon me, and render me helpless

Waiting for the train
There's one in the other lane
And I wait, always late
Wait an hour till it came

Traffic be upon me, and render me helpless

I get on and and there's a crowd
And the ruckus really loud
Hold my breath, choke to death
And my feet don't reach the ground

Claustropho-bia pon me, and render me helpless

And when I'm helpless, I can feel
What's a phony and whats real
Cause I got earphones in my ears
And I live beyond my cares
I immensely enjoy situations like waiting for the bus, in which I'm not expected to do anything. I can guiltlessly relax with the music I love.
Chabadtzke Jul 2018
I've been taking some time off
From writing down my thoughts
From writing all the things I used to think when I felt lost

It's doing me some good
Shut my brain down like I should
Committing mental suicide, I need not hide behind my hood

See, here it's not like home
I don't spend time on my own
And the battles in my head take place in bed when I'm alone

But when the thoughts come they will find
The eye I turn to them is blind
Because sometimes, to stay alive, you've got to **** your mind
"Sometimes to stay alive you gotta **** your mind" -migraine by twenty one pilots

I've been in summer camp for the past month. Privacy is hard to come by, but thank G'd I have no time to think!
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