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9.7k · Apr 2014
Slavery and Dogs
Don't Exist Apr 2014
What's the difference between slavery and having dogs?
I mean when they do good we give them treats
same as when a slave does good we give them small incentives
when they are bad we punish them
the same thing with human slaves
we either are good dog lovers or dog abusers
the same as good masters and bad masters
we transport them numerously
the same with human slaves
we breed them
the same with human slaves
we give them this food called "dog food"
which is a low quality  food given to human slaves
and the most obvious of all is dog collars and chains as to categorized them as property and to subconsciously "oppressed" them.
So is having a dog wrong?
A lot of people seem to treat dogs correctly
the dogs seems nice and happy
So was slavery okay?
I really don't know
You decide...
A simple poem
9.0k · Jul 2014
Human Value
Don't Exist Jul 2014
I  look at myself everyday
in the mirror
looking at my body intensely,looking for errors
my teeth
those monstrous pimples
and those cheap glasses
that hunch-back
who am I?
no,who is this? This body of self defeat?
what is my worth ?
what do my errors add up to?
does it deduct my final value?
Like a rusted guitar or a cheap  rag doll?

So I look at the reflections of many mirrors
I compare myself to them to the point of exhaustion
some mirrors raised my value
some didn't
some lowered my value
and some destroyed my value entirely

at one point I broke my mirror
because I finally realize
that value didn't matter
since all those mirrors came from the same thing
A simple poem (I'm a bit rusty now)
Don't Exist Apr 2014
To me patience looks like this...
It is this huge man will a long black overcoat with pockets
with shiny glasses and Grey eyes
and a face that is aged
and a smile that looks between a frown and a smirk
and a wooden smoke pipe in his mouth
with raggedy bag rip jeans
and black boots
He sits on this wooden chair
and is near a large tree
and he lights his smoke pipe
put one arm on top of one thigh
leans over and stares with you with those ancient, deep eyes
and says in a deep tone..
“go head, speak I'm waiting”
but then this will also describe what understanding looks like
So then they are both the same?....
a simple poem
4.4k · Apr 2014
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Just because you have kids
doesn't mean you are a man
it just means that you are old or mature enough to contribute to humanity's population(if that is even the case)
just because you have muscles
doesn't mean you are a man
it just means that you are strong enough to do physical labor for humanity
just because you have tons of girlfriends
doesn't mean you are a man
it just means that you are in a stage where courtmanship is at it's peak  for the benefit of humanity
just because you have tons of money
doesn't mean you are a man
it just means that you have contributed something to humanity in which you are getting pay for it
just because you went to war
doesn't mean you are a man
it just means that you had enough respect for the country and your family and consequences were dealt to you  because of humanities behavior
the list of masculinity traits can go on and on
masculinity is primitive
femininity is evolving
and it is time for men to stop indulging in their primitive ways
for the survival of humanity.
A simple and personal poem
4.0k · Feb 2015
Chapped Lips
Don't Exist Feb 2015
Chapped Lips
The cracked skin on my lips
Represents the crack on my heart
About to break in tiny pieces

The more I smile
The more my lips stretch
The more my heart breaks

But dare I let my lips falls part?
Dare I put lip balm on?
To ease the pain
To cease the blood…?

The Lips overflowed with blood
Like a fountain
And with a splash from the wings of a bird
Gallons flown over my chin
Formed  droplets
And stain my shirt

But the smile stays
But not the heart
The heart is shallow
There’s no more blood to keep it pumping
Just a fragile glass
See through it is
   But its crack near the top left is hard to see…
I really like this poem, but I need help to make it better. Please dont hesitate
3.3k · Jul 2014
The Wrath oF Money
Don't Exist Jul 2014
Such useless paper
when created
are given to greedy and idiotic people
whose only instinctual intentions is to spend and create

More of what?
what is the useless paper

It doesn't grow on trees

maybe 17000
of them
And they have the audacity to destroy those trees children?
and parents?
and history!!!!

Those faded green papers of money
fulled of BACTERIA and viruses
transporting on human beings
as though  a retaliation from god
As God planned to reigned over the corrupted America

But I take that green dollar and spend it
knowing full well
that there is something scarier then God's Wrath
a simple poem
2.8k · Apr 2014
In God's Hands We Trust
Don't Exist Apr 2014
today I was on god's hand
his touch was electrifying, but comfortable
and I was the happiest person alive
when I look down from it's hands I saw the Earth
"****, we are really that high in the sky" I said
But then something happen
people started climbing on God
I was shocked and God was surprised and happy.
Eventually all the humans from Earth was in God's hand
and everybody including me trusted god.
and God was okay with that

the peace among the humans didn't last
fights began to erupt on god's hands
people kicking and fighting, people being trampled by feet, spitting, pulling hair, crying. We were lucky that there was no weapons.
God was obviously displease,
but he can't step in yet
I was in the corner of gods hand when somebody came over to me and punch me
Immediately I fell, fell to the abyss of the Earth's atmosphere
crying and pleading for god to come,
but he can't step in yet
and I understood, I don't hate him for letting me fall
because it is my fault that I placed soo much trust in it
and not on my self and humanity
so humans around me fall to our death
knowing that our god
still can't step in yet....
A simple peom
2.6k · Apr 2014
How selfish we can love
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Love is like...
well it is hard to explain
like I hear the different theories of love
but it seems to me that love is selfish
it truly is
love is spread so thin
I mean we love our families and friends but..
love is always in this tiny personal atmosphere.
that's it
personal love is the most selfish of love
always between specific people(mostly two)
but what about other people who wants love?
the people who is never going to experience that heartbreaking, tear wrenching, confusing love
Who will give love to them  ?
is it their fault that they are not love?
Whose fault is it?
shouldn't we try to spread that love instead of keeping it personal?
shouldn't we all experience all of love treasures, even people that are bad?
Humanity already answer this question
and whatever we see in this world is the result
a simple poem
2.1k · May 2014
My Sweaters
Don't Exist May 2014
Oh how I love wearing my sweaters
I wear then in the morning,especially at night
in the cold and summer
in the public and private places
when I fell all soo happy
and also when I'm depressed

It's like a shell
It protects from this dangerous world
the world criticism stings me
giving me a lethal dose of paranoia and sleep deprivation

Well  luckily I have my sweaters
It's my cup of Joe
my video game
my secret lover
my special listener
my doctor
my savior

Oh it saves me alright
from the world
isolating me from the world
making me lonely and cold

But it is worth it
oh this world can be dangerous
i don't want my soul to be drain

But eventually when I'm ready
I will break from this cocoon
and spread my wings so that everybody can see
my warmth and salvation

My sweaters
they are nice to have
but it is not meant to be worn for a long time.
A simple poem
Don't Exist May 2014
People praise geniuses
like they praise trophies
after all that hard work
they are put in a shelf
where  they will dust until that shelf is destroy
or until they are needed for entertainment
being drain from their polish

The trophy has no identity
It is own by society
only to be use again and again.

Some trophies accept their fate
others glamour in the sunlight where they reflect all light
being seen in the world as special
while being treated as **** at the end
and for all it's genius an all it's glory
It wasn't smart enough to break free.

I guess what all geniuses and trophies are missing is
Acknowledgment of True Self
As a genius is just a human being and a trophy, a scrap a metal
both made from the same old atoms.
A simple poem
1.8k · Dec 2014
The Purity of a Proton
Don't Exist Dec 2014
it portrays
it imitates
But at the same time
it clouds its own image

"Clean" it says
"Kind" it says
"Holy" it says

Then tell me why
it attracts electrons
who all have the same sinful lust for

Maybe those neutron
dead and lifeless
and Heavy
can they tell the whole story
A simple poem
1.7k · Dec 2014
When I wash my Dishes...
Don't Exist Dec 2014
When I wash my dishes
I wonder if it will crack
the extremities of hot water mixed with lead
steaming its skin
making it dry and wet at the same time

When I put my wet plate in the air
the water dripping from its surface
I wonder if it will become my heart
the red moon
that will drip with blood
staining the floor
consistent, but flexible

When I put my dishes away
I wonder if
the dishes dry due to their exhausted fear
from being touch
for indulgence
and thoes plates that crack
finally becomes tolerant...
A simple poem
1.7k · Mar 2015
Stale Tears
Don't Exist Mar 2015
They only come when I'm exhausted
Existing until I blink
and when I try to bring one out
It makes my stomach sick
1.6k · Aug 2014
Don't Exist Aug 2014
I don't care to see your struggle
as your endearment
puts me in a eternal ******* full of regret
where I continually desire the contraption
until you set me free

No longer will I be a slave to your affections
Your whispers clinging to my ears like paper clips
and your kisses, feeling like cheap post-its that falls like snowflakes

Keep such an endearment to yourself
So you can finally have a taste of your own self-worth
A simple poem
1.4k · Aug 2014
Don't Exist Aug 2014
is like a new dust pan
so shiny and bright
that is eventually full of garbage and dirt
that is thrown in the trash
with a new status

However some dustpans
are cleanse from their dirt
still carried with sin
and with  a scent of development
and sometimes wisdom

Others are always full with garbage and dirt
not knowing the basic luxury of soap
nor do they remember when it first came out the package

Other dustpans are never used
but will either rot
or with a miracle will be continually showered with soap
Lasting with great wisdom
or resentment for not ever being

But like all things
it comes to an end

a dustpan is replace
when it is broken down or rotten
continuing the cycle
of life and virginity.
A simple poem
1.4k · Apr 2014
Sentimental Values
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Cry, cry all you want
I don’t want to see salty tears
burning through the mahogany table like droplet holes.
I don’t want your dry lips pressing against mines as they will crack,
your excuses for ripping my heart out with a silver spoon.
and definitely don’t want the necklace I gave you full of fleas.
I want you gone, gone from this castle!…………….
“Drip, drip, drip, drip”……
I stared hard out the window.
Is it my fault she had to be such a *.
Her dripping boots treading across
the moody landscape, a sign of failure.
Let her rot on the trenches of spears.
I died for you w
e, you stank w*e
I died, I died , I died for you!!!……
“Honey wake up”…
“oh my dear, I had a terrible nightmare”
” I saw you staring at the window and
thought you saw a ghost of some sort.
You were deathly pale"
Oh, was I?, It must have been my reflection……
Created by youth
1.3k · Apr 2014
Moist Air
Don't Exist Apr 2014
I take my keys and put it in my pocket.
Put my black jacket on and raggedy shoes
Put on my music and head out the door to the spring night air
“Finally” I said.” I'm free”
But I'm not of course. I'm trap, tied down to the ground leading me to suffocation.
The reins of my dog pulls tightly on my hands.
It cracks and cringes, it erodes in time.
But I still held on to the blue cotton chain.
People stared. Stared with hatred, remorse, disgust, disruption.
Their eyes popping out of their eye socket.
But it is not as worst as the other snarling dogs.
They grind their teeth showing their black gums
But then nothing is more worst then the police officers
Their cars patrolling the streets like gangsters part of a drug industry.
But then I cross that bridge, that safe haven full of joy. Full of space, until the sun doesn't take it at least.
But it's okay as moonlight drowns me, renewing my soul.
The whisperings of the trees swaying in the wind.
The salty waters of the island
and that wonderful moist air of freshness.
It only survives for a split second however.
Just a second of hyper real reality.
Until the dullness of life suffocates me again.
The dogs ,the chain, the people. Everything comes back to me.
But it is okay.
That addictive moist air.
O how I desire that taste of moist air again....
What qualifies as a nice poem? I really don't know. I'm just sharing my thoughts. If you don't like it I really don't care. This is for me. I used this website for me. I make these poems for me. For me to understand the world.
1.3k · Apr 2014
Don't Exist Apr 2014
It smells like burning flesh dip in a dish of sulfuric acid
It feels like sweat traveling all through your body while you travel across landscapes that cuts and burns you constantly
you can hear your heart beating ever so slowly, almost to a stop when you hear the screams of hell
it taste like bombs and metals, with blood regurgitation from your mouth
You can see the millions of dead bodies, you can see your comrades dying every minute,you can see mutilations of body parts and tears until eventually you see darkness and the sky is filled with hatred and sadness
and you must know in your heart that you did something wrong, that you shouldn't be there, that from that day your life was ruin forever
The last one is our sixth sense. A simple poem
Don't Exist Apr 2014
People always wondered why I grow plants
shouldn't I be cultivating children?
they always look at me dumbfounded when I ask them this question..

"what is the difference between growing plants and growing children?"

They gave me the most obvious answers
"hello, it's freakin plants. They can't talk, they don't have no emotions, you can't use love to "make" them,and they are boring"
What they said was mostly true, as their answers came from a surface of understanding.
But actually plants can talk.Without their communications skills they wouldn't be able to survive and repopulate
plus I'm not actually a talker
they do have emotions. Their desire to always want to taste the marvelous sun is their happiness as well as when they get depressed when they don't have the sun or each other.
"I can't use love to "make" them" Well isn't that ignorant as if I didn't "love" these plants in the first place I would had never "made" them. You don't exactly need two humans to make love
and the most dreadful thing to say was that they were boring. Well they must be the most interesting creatures as I see them more than I see you

So while my parents left after being disappointed of what I'm doing with my life
I went back to planting some plants
the happiest thing that gives me life
A simple poem
1.2k · Jul 2014
Work and Money and Witches?
Don't Exist Jul 2014
If you have money you work
and if you work you have money
and the cycle continues
especially in a place like New York
that do the same thing over and over again

But there is a difference between workers
I am a worker
I look at the tall buildings in New York
Like a medieval anarchy

the top full of kings and queens,dukes and knights
the bottom full of peasants and slaves
and at the bottom full of witches burning in hell

those witches burning in greed and sin that they did not commit
there feet burning in ashes from their work from surrendering to the higher ups
crying to be release to the surface
but knowing they will always be chain to their hell.

So while I was sweeping the floor for greedy saints
I look up, took my broom and fly
fly just like a witch
breaking my ties with eternal hell
forever severing the bonds of surrendering and greed
of work and money
Simple poem (sorry if it is a bit messy!!!)
1.2k · Apr 2014
You can't See me Cry
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Why don't you never see me cry
just because you don't see tears in my face
doesn't mean I didn't cry
as this body is a shell of my true form

i cried in the bathroom stall
in the cafeteria
in the park
in my house
I cried elsewhere
except in front of you
and when you stare into my eyes in a casually way
I cry again
as you again do not understand me
But it doesn't matter as you won't see
A simple poem
1.2k · Apr 2014
Borrowed Bodies
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Our bodies are borrowed
yes, it is not hard to comprehend
it's not a poetic metaphor
nor is it a intellectual endeavor

our bodies are borrowed...

it might seem strange at first
but then it starts to make sense
but its crazy

our bodies are borrowed...?

Hello, for your whole life you was borrowing something
your soul borrowed the body made from your mother
a mom whole also borrowed her body who sexually interacted with another person with a borrowed body
whose parents created them with borrowed bodies
all the way to the beginning

our bodies are borrowed....!!!????

that means our life is borrowed
our kids are borrowed
our happiness are borrowed
our darkness are borrowed
our ****** activities are borrowed
even our souls are borrowed

our bodies are borrowed??????

Now will you continue this borrowed reality or use your borrowed body to create a world?
a world that doesn't require a borrowed body?
a body of your own?
This poem is kinda shaky. Please comment and don't just ready. Don't be scared.
Don't Exist Apr 2014
(might be disturbing to some viewers)
Tick tock around the clock
the clock strikes six, i dock
i dock on the  Seine River
with its shallow waters full of love
and it's reflection from light over the eiffel tower
where at the top of it shines a little red beam shining brightly red
Alarming the whole city...

"alert, alert, alert!!!!!!!"

people became frantic, they started to run
people kisses became interrupted as they lips became forcefully bunch together
which leaves their face full of acne and hepatitis C
people are pulling their dogs close to their arms
people are pulling the strands out of their hair
people clawing  their skins with their fingernails
then finally the alarm stops buzzing as it dims to grey
The city is dull and silent
bodies of death are lain all over the cement.
Alright this is my last poem for today. I hope you enjoy see yah
1.2k · May 2014
How I love
Don't Exist May 2014
My love is like a bag
a bag of candy
pick the candy you like
m&m;'s,starburst, Hershey's chocolate.
But I prefer chips
the chips you can't stop crunching
but how do you know the kind of chips they are if they are in a raggedy black bag?
so dull and boring

try to open the bag
don't be too rushy, but have a firm, steady, constant pull
see, it open, but you took too slow
It's okay, just take one piece
and another and another
and wait, you're eating too much
leave some for myself and please put some of the chips you took back
Because you are not the only one taking from the bag.
I really do not like this poem. It seems so unlike me (copyright)
1.0k · Dec 2014
The Subconscious Murderer
Don't Exist Dec 2014
Rats Dropping Like Flies
I eventually encountered one
A crime scene it was
Its sulfuric acid smell of hell was overpowering me
Making me numb

And I saw the maggots
Crawling for a place called home
Although they made a home which was never secured

There was no funeral for the rat
He was just thrown in the trash
It was ******
Destroyed by poison
Its mouth was open
As though calling for help

Nobody wept
For the fear of being victimized

But a close friend of my died
Should I weep or should I have thrown the remorse in the trash?

I didn't hesitate
For in this world
A rat is just a rat
A Simple Poem
Don't Exist Feb 2015
How can I rid my existence?
Should I blind myself          
so that my brain can rot in darkness
or maybe with a hand knife
silently scraping the nerves on my skin
like  dead potato skins
duck taped
and tears streaming down my dented cheeks

Maybe I should plunge myself into a Coma
and put myself in a dream where I can be in servitude for my transgressions

Should I cut my ***** off
for when I *******
all that comes out is lifeless *****
awaiting for a burial ground?

Maybe I should take my soft soul
into the palms of my hands
crush it with all my might
so that I will never be reincarnated again

The immortal soul reviving existence
by using the existence of others

Why should I let this little soul survive
who doesn't share its own existence with others?

What a terrible waste
a waste indeed
My Current Feelings. Thanks For reading such a depressing poem
Don't Exist Mar 2015
The One with the Timberland Boots
Those gigantic feet
Which I peek
Was close to mine
Though I had to sneak

The stench of my odor
Coming from my ***
Was making me
Insecure very fast

But luckily the stalls divide us
Our bowels and touch
And all things that blind us
Except for the smell
Of course that was true
But with our smells combine
There was nothing coming through

Between us…

The love that we made
That came from pain
Has thus began to fade away
Including me who had to go

But I will never forget
The Timberland Boots
Who sat near me in company
Throwing my insecurities off the roof
965 · Feb 2015
The Red Berry Tree
Don't Exist Feb 2015
Let it drip
rain droplets
that stings my face
and flows across my sullen face

my eyebrows drench
my lips moist
my eyes surrounded by water
where the cornea of my eye became a pool

those same wet eyes looking to the heavenly skies of charcoal
blocked by branches full of red berries
red dots in the sky
Like an insane painting

I vigorously wave my hands to the sky
trying to rid the blood
like a car's windshield, stained by someones brain organs
spaghetti and tomato sauce
the blotches of red from the sky fell
like greasy bullets

Gravity increased its accelerating
piercing my skin
infected piercings, my skin turn green

one sour green berry slowly fell into my mouth
Now I'm finally free.
A poem that I forgotten. If not acknowledge, at least let it be exposed to the world for all eternity.
Don't Exist Apr 2014
which is stronger?
the answer might be obvious
come one guess
it could never be hatred but..
no, it has to be hatred
that's all I see in the world anyway
hatred, hatred, hatred
but no love
but wait
there is love in the world
but it so superficial
maybe that is why hatred is overcoming
but naturally  hatred will overcome
as naturally humans have weak love
but then that is okay
that is why the darkness is there for
it is to increase that love
love will never be stronger than hatred
but then love will always be desired
for eternity to come
A simple Poem
938 · Apr 2014
Don't Exist Apr 2014
It let out a big roar
all across the Sahara desert
Over the mountain ranges and snow leopards.
In the air full of tropical parrots and monkeys
It let out a roar
a huge one indeed
It’s legs and feet were melted onto the ancient marble table.

And it’s body was exposed for everyone to see
It’s love was written in the purest of red, it’s hatred black
It’s appearance seems old and shaggy
But when a force blew on it a tenacious voice came from within
It was the voice of mankind
As it was finally open
All bowed
”The truth will set you free” It bellowed  

And the world trembled
A simple poem
927 · Aug 2014
Poems Without Words
Don't Exist Aug 2014
Poems without words
is like a cry from the asylum
wanted to be release from their *******
when even after their death
they never turned insane
A simple Poem
864 · Apr 2014
Pebbles and Suicide
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Crick crack, crick crack
the Grey pebble starts to fall
it starts to fall into the darkness
the magnetizing darkness of loss, hatred, selfishness, and confusion
when the pebble hits the ground nobody knows
It doesn't make a sound
because nobody dares to hear
but it does in fact makes a sound
but whose is around to travel with the pebble
to hear it's crying sound of desire
a desire to be known
to be sought after
to be discover....

A tear drop on the pebble
it drip from my eyes
as I look into the Grey skies
I close my eyes and took a deep breath
I felt hands pushing me. Different sizes and ethnicities,
voices of different tones, language and dialects
all telling me the same thing
To Jump...

and I did...

It wasn't graceful, it only survive for 3 seconds
by then I already hit the ground
my body is an unrecognizable trash with splatter compressed blood
But the pebble didn't get mark
At least the pebble was heard
“****, I committed suicide”
All because they have forgotten to attach the rope....
This is how I feel(no i do not feel like committing suicide. read the poem to understand how i truly feel.)Copyright ©
813 · Nov 2014
Don't Exist Nov 2014
Like a Flower
It blooms at night
With its preying eyes it awaits its next victim
and when the victim appears
does it finally turn to ashes
A simple poem
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Oh my, that  little white particles in the air is coming
But did you noticed that they don't feel like touching?
They never collide, I wonder why?
what is the magnitude of the hatred they have that pulls them away from each other..
But at the end of the day have enough love to gather themselves on the solid floor?
Gravity,electrical repulsion, air resistance
Do these things affects such creatures?
They fall through the window that is blocked with a screen and land on my boots
They sit there waiting to be touch, to have another connection to this world.
But it is too late for them as they die
Why do they die?
I seek the everlasting touch of frost
I longer for them to come through my window
I lick my lips because of how salty they are
And I feel rejuvenated as an incentive is coming soon
I sit and stared through that window
For eternity to come
waiting, waiting , waiting
until that "gut feeling" anticipation
Have been starved....
I'm talking about snow if you are curious
801 · Aug 2014
Don't Exist Aug 2014
Death is like
Origami paper
which spills from a old woman's face
until all her
and all that is left
is an empty             Volume of space
made her
A simple Poem
767 · Nov 2015
Don't Exist Nov 2015
Numbness coats my skin
it coats my eyes
my mouth, my brain, my legs
I can barely move
nor do i want to
dumbbells are on top of each shoulder blades
they hung down on my cheeks
they become the shirts I wear
my shoes...
my eyelids
I'm waiting to be set free from these chains
these awkward chains
and people stare at me
question why I put my head down in long silence
help me, no don't
I'll be okay
I let the dumbbells drag me to the ground
Let me add on its process
I don't want to be here no more
don't want to see the world around me
don't want to feel the touch of predetermine passions
there is nothing but numbness and weight
But what about the light?
who cares, I rather die
then wait
718 · Apr 2014
The Great Christmas Spirit?
Don't Exist Apr 2014
"Open it up, open it!"
"Move Brat, this is mine!"
"hell no, move away!"
"Hey, hey kids quiet down now!"
"But mom he started it first"
"Now kids get your presents and go to your room"

There is a little town  where the houses are metallic and grey and smooth
The streets deserted with dust and the clouds darken with clay
In the middle of it all stand a figure in which people were praising at.
It had a nice smile and receive all the gifts
The people were happy
But their happiness were gripped from the clutches of government
Not one drop of love was share
And thus it was spread around the town

The kids went back to their room, letting the greediness absorbed through their skin
The mother sat down, thinking about the last time her man cared for her
This was one of my christmas themes
713 · Apr 2014
Churned Butter
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Twitch, Twitch
churned until it turns to a sweet fluid
the mystical food that fills the land with warmth
and light
and depth
churn that butter, rippled with fat
with that wooden broom stick working your magic
let your creation poison the world......

about 14 people to be exact on that day
let the sweat be the honor of your work to the devil
let your wrinkles be the prize of that deed
let your creaky and barren home be the result of your selfishness and obliviousness
you don't care, you never cared
let your Blood Diamonds be the new pandemic of the sorrow, sullen, world.
a simple poem
710 · Apr 2014
Dear Miley Cyrus,
Don't Exist Apr 2014
I know that people are talking about you
about your behavior in the public
and about what you wear
and you know what it is unacceptable
seriously why did you change?
you used to inspire a lot of young girls
you were a freakin role model
and now the girls are imitating your rash behavior
do you think this is okay?
do you think this is cool?
no, it is not
But then I forgot to mention that you was a young girl yourself..

that you were admiring other people
you had the great American Dream too
and it seems as though we let you down
nobody help you, nobody understands you
but we wanted you to put a wig on and wear things that didn't show the real you
and you had to pay the price on your own
and what I see today is the result
So I'm sorry Miley Cyrus
I'm sorry we let you down
indulging you into this spiral of failures and traps
I'm so sorry
I hope you can forgive us

Sincerely, Society
A simple peom
681 · Aug 2014
After Battle
Don't Exist Aug 2014
The Real Battle Starts
Right After all the surviving troops leave
when only soulless bodies of Earth

In a horrific state of purgatory
who are now suffering the consequences
for their sins

The Mushrooms and Bacteria
judge these bodies
As they decomposed the remains
testing the quality of life

The Crows are the punishers
picking at the remains like a wild carcass in Africa
tearing limb from limb
supporting their own families

And those bodies that had decomposed peacefully
left for the awakening

The darkness pass
The sins are dissolve
but once again chaos is caused

But it is ascertain
that those Bacteria and Crows
and Purgatory
is waiting.
A simple poem
678 · Apr 2014
The Branches's Shadow
Don't Exist Apr 2014
I saw the branches shadow
the branches that was blocking the harsh sun
I look down
people surrounding me seem to ignore the shadows
but I didn't
I kneel down to look closely
It shadow branches starts to move, i'm startled
It was only the breeze of the wind
There were less people now on the sidewalk
I sat down
A scene began to play on the floor
I seen a bird that was perching on the tree
I saw squirrels fighting for nuts
I saw a butterfly land on one of the branches
I even saw a lion

I immediately look up
It wasn't there, i was intensely relax
I started to feel the cold in the air
I pull my jacket closely around me
I finally look down at the sidewalk
the branches were gone
the show was over
it was night time
I got up from my spot
and placed a dollar on one of the branches
and as I began to leave I anticipated what the next show was going to be.
A simple poem
676 · Feb 2015
The Hunger Crush
Don't Exist Feb 2015
Get the **** out of my face!
you fucken toad
making me have anorexia
so hungry that the only thing my body can digest
is my happiness
but still my love for you is strong
all because I'm so scared to see your face
because I know that if you smile again
our fates will be sealed
A simple poem
617 · Jun 2014
Life is a Essay
Don't Exist Jun 2014
It's structure, but not as coherent as it seems

It has paragraphs.
setting the stage of life.
          It has indentions to help you clarify your life

It has a intro stating when you was born...
body paragraphs to explain your growth development
and a conclusion that ends your life...
or hints our next lifetime.

People constantly check for grmmar in their essays
looking for errors in ther lives.
not knowing that there will alway be errors

Others dressed their paragraphs in fancy letters
not knowing that no amount of sophistication
will make them more smart
nor beautiful
nor even interesting in some cases

Other people liked strong arguments
not knowing that no matter how STRONG  they are

An essay was created for people to read, understand
and judge
tis is neither bad nor good
as people can critique such essays
manipulating and defining the lives of others with no restrictions

and after all that hard work
the physical object that the essay was etched on
will eventually dissolve away
and all that will be left
is the energy that a soul put into it.
not knowing that the best essay
will be just being themselves.
A simple poem
Don't Exist May 2014
Every since I was born
every since my first christmas
My first birthday
my experience from school
My first love and hate
my life was forever tainted

I look at the mirror to view my skin
the lightest of all brown
I cry in misery and helplessness
I try to scratch the skin out of my bones but it wouldn’t go
I look at my last name and shiver
I look at Santa Claus and wonder
I look at the people around me and I become lost

I dream of them coming
with their ugly wrinkled faces
and their barbaric ways
and ****** the little girls from their innocence
the ones that are my great great grandmothers
laughing and instilling the idea
that they were going to be theirs forever
and till this day they are

I look at T.V to see how they portrayed my sisters
skinny and shaky
poor and sad
but who have stolen from them?
The T.V?
The world inside the T.V?
Or my world?

But  I viewed  the true place of origin
So tropical,fresh, and healthy
civilized and intellectual
dark and beautiful
but this only sadden me more

I feel like throwing up
To regurgitate all my hatred from this wretched place
and when I look for my skin for answers
I simply give up

I’m trap
In this delusional world
Full of people who are lost
who lost their homes
and their skin and life tainted
Till death do us part
A simple poem
587 · Dec 2014
A Real Cloud
Don't Exist Dec 2014
A cloud
such a thing only lives in the imaginary

Where rain comes from,
and those metallic flying objects
that roams the sky
touches the ground

The ground soak with rain droplets
mix with pollution
I felt under my feet

makes my skin tingles
no angry
no berserk

The skin wanted to rip itself
inside out
into tiny pieces
like rain droplets
the imaginary
the cloud

At least it has a chance to rise
but my soul
was cemented on the ground

So cry
I cried a tear
I cried a dream
A real Cloud
It seems that I only make sad poem
(Again), a simple poem
566 · Feb 2015
Don't Exist Feb 2015
Where am I in this alley?
Whose dark and rough walls give the sky
A daunting blue?

The maze I’m in
Whose walls are dense
Are not denser than the cement in my head
Constantly pulling me down
Searching through the alleys
To find the exit…
A exit
But where?

My hands touching the grainy ground
Made them appear like the talons of a vulture
Use to attack an invisible force I am not able to overcome

The only thing that can resist
Is the multitude tears which gently landed on the floor and splattered

Fast it went and formed one single line
Towards the exit

I collapse trying to grasp the stream of tears

My head streaming in and out of consciousness
I wonder
Who will reach the exist first?
Don't Exist Apr 2014
(P.S this poem is really not poetic and very direct)
The system in America *****
too many questions and not a lot people answering them
unless you are favored by society
I'm tired of all the discrimination
But it can't be entirely destroyed
as it is needed to advanced society in the first place
I'm tired of the immoral behaviors
but they are the things that redefine our morals in society in the first place
People shooting and ******
murdering and committing suicide
and as usual the system don't do anything
they are just waiting
waiting  until that chance come
until they will be able to produce a new world order
but then they are waiting
they are waiting..
they are waiting??
They are waiting !!!!!
We still have a chance
a chance to change the future
a future for the betterment of tomorrow
But can humanity sacrifice for change?
We are not ready

Nobody is ready to sacrifice our homes
nor our families and friends
nor our jobs
and it's amazing that these are the major things that we are sacrificing
only three
but we held high values on it
even though those things were created by people they never even meet
so until that sacrifice come
I will sit here writing prose poetry
waiting for that day to come...
Hope you learn something
549 · Apr 2014
Addictive Pleasure
Don't Exist Apr 2014
I just wonder when its all going to end
when I can stop chasing the cigarette
the addictiveness of sardines mix
into my mouth mixed with mash potatoes
sweetened with charcoal and lemons
and smothered with sweet love of honey and with a swab of pickles on the side
would it stop if I put tar all over it as when I swallowed I digest in intense pain?
or maybe the tar will come out of my eyes in which a vision of black spinach will arise
When will it end?
Will it ever end?
such addictiveness
makes me crave for stomach pains
to stop such a thought from occurring
A simple poem
514 · May 2014
Bad News
Don't Exist May 2014
Give me the bad news first
don't sugar coat anything
I don't want to hear the good news  first as it contains lies
lies that are worst then the bad news itself

Tell me now or forever hold your peace
let me encountered the truth as the truth would set me free.
Bad news:
Okay now good news
Well thank you for that wonderful broadcasting.
I was bored(kinda)
499 · Apr 2014
Who is God?
Don't Exist Apr 2014
God is the one who created the universe
The one who created us mere mortals
We are nothing without god aren't we?
But that is only partially true
God is nothing without us
without it's creations it can't exist
as what it creates shows its values
and when there is no value
it does not exist
so who is truly god?
It is definitely not us
A simple poem
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