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Match, match forward and go, you heroic sons of America
Reconnoiter into the strongholds of boko haram,
And restore our captive girls from the foul  custody,
Lawlessly held hostage by the connoisseurs of terror,
Go on and recover poor souls from ribald of religion
Impishly created by Moslem from the satanic verses,
Regulating foray of terror on the poor of the poor
******, mahyeming, looting and executing massacres,
Match on and on yee angels of democracy,
Don’t stop in any haste or in any wonder,
To help in the sham flabbergastations,
About  the  Igbos who fought the Biafra,
And the Yorubas who federally defended,
Under the aegis of Obasanjo the Sandhurst
General, where are they all to save the girls
Of Nigeria from the Islamist terror
Excuted by  boko haram the handmaid of evil.
 Jun 2014 Isabella Pullivan
-
My mind is a    m e  s   s
There's a storm inside my head
Someone please *save me
Honestly,
people have been telling me my whole life about **** I'm going to have to do.
Exercise, eat right, good grades,
hard work.
And you may call it weak or cowardly, (though, I do prefer the term loophole),  but I gave up a long time ago on doing any of it.

I gave up on life, and I've never felt more free.
5.05.14  20:44
He took a few cups of love, he took one table spoon of patience, three grams of generosity, one litre of kindness, two spoons of laughter and commitment, with a mixture of happiness, added lots of faith and support, stirred it very well wisely. Then he let everybody take a sip...

#‎And‬ that's how he took your woman...
I see it passing by, to the edge of my sight
Its  frozen gale leaving only words, petrified

The ground, unraveled at my feet , at every step
Seems ever more distant, as it soars in my head

In the blink of an eye, a year taken away
Each one of my breath blurs in a vapor, fine mist
Behind a tainted glass, the gleam of yesterdays
Then by then, I wonder: Did they even exist?

It takes and never gives,
It comes and never leaves
Time.
Time. The Thief.
the thing about me is

i know that i am worth it
yet the voices in my head are telling me otherwise
there are thorns piercing my fragile heart
and with every insult and hurtful word
the thorns dig deeper
the voices scream louder
the light in my eyes fade slowly
as does the *** of gold at the end of the rainbow
as does the light at the end of the tunnel
my voice is hoarse and desperate
i know i am screaming for the light to stay
it's trying to
it's screaming back at me
darkness fills the room
it's pitch black and
i don't see the light anymore

the thing about me is

i settle for coal when in fact
i deserve scintillating diamonds
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