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You can take your spiteful words
and shove them up your ***
when it comes to taking **** from you
Sorry, but I'll pass
because I've accepted hatred
and hurt, pain and depression
and i'm getting sick and tired
of writing poems as confessions.
So *******
I'm tired of your ****
my feelings are a fire
the flame has been lit.
Is there something wrong
with the way I speak?

the way I think,
the way I feel,
the way I believe,
the way I perceive?

Why can't I simply let go?
No more pretending,
no more lying,
no more hurting.

If I fall under the same pattern,
life would be simpler,
"ignorance is bliss" yes.

But, I can't.
I think too much for my own good.
 Dec 2015 Lost in Thought
Potter
Intelligence brings an arrogance
A desire to control
All that which surrounds us
Seems to impact on our soul

Intelligence brings the logic
A method to make sense
But often leaves its mark
When emotion tries to vent

Intelligence brings the knowledge
Emotion was here first
Love will over power all
This is not our curse.
ick. its almost that day again.
the day I have to put a fake smile on my face
and say to you cheerfully
"mommy, I love you"

we both know I'm lying
I don't see why we pretend
It wont be a good day no matter what
you called today just to *****

plus, its my sisters birthday
what a mess
I have to deal with little kids
and her preppy bubbly behavior

I think im just gonna sleep tomorrow.
just sleep all day.
ill get in trouble for it, I know.
im supposed to be home early

but I don't care anyway.
this is kinda stream of consciousness. I didn't edit it I just barely revised it because im already thinking too much about tomorrow and now im gonna go drown myself in my music. be back Monday morning when this is all over.
A mothers silent tears drip
As a father tries to remain stoic
A miniature coffin lowered
Into cold, hardened ground
A white teddy bear left
On a slab of grey stone
With a chiseled name
And a few harsh numbers
1996-2001

A young wife weeps
With a child in her arms
Rifles fire in a salute
Into the dismal sky
Flowers are left,
And pictures of his newborn
That he never got to meet
The wife is told
we thank you for your sacrifice

Silence reigns
Over the mass grave
Of mangled remains
Victims of religious hate
Hundreds of children dead
For what their parents believed
Somewhere someone is crying
As the soldiers say
thank god that group is gone today

A young girl screams,
Seeing her mothers pale tone
And the tub of red water
needles littering the floor
A ***** family secrete
Finally comes to a peak
She grabs for the phone
Fumbles over numbers
*911, what's your emergency?
All deaths are important. But it is often the ones that are least noticed that cause the most pain. Everyone is touched by small children dying of illness, everyone knows the troubles of family's left behind fallen soldiers, everyone mourns victims of genocide. How many notice the orphaned child of a drug addict who killed themselves?
These were origanally seperate poems I had wrote that I put together. I might try to condense and shape this into a sonnet and send it to my uncle who publishes them.
I hate you more
With every breathe you take
Every word you say
Every bruise you leave

I try so hard
To avoid hurt
I don't talk to many people at school
I don't stray far from my own little world

Just to come home, every day
To you screaming in my face
Your words linger in my ears
"I wish I didn't have you" ringing the most clear

I'm worthless, and lazy, you say
I'm selfish, because your sick
And I don't do enough to help you
By cooking the meals, and cleaning the house

Your injured, you say you fell,
So I need to step up,
And do more, to keep the stress off you
And help you heal

But you don't sound sick
When you yell at me
And you don't look injured,
When you hurt me

See? Your standing now
Yelling as you come near
Screaming right in my ear
The same old, tired words.

And as you push me,
And I fall
Only one thought rings clear
"You don't look sick, anymore, mommy dear"
I wrote this quickly, last night after me and mom got in yet another argument. About laundry.. I didn't have internet so I'm posting it now.
A drink to my heartbreak,
A toast to this despair,
The break of a fall,
The stunt of the dare.
She was a beautiful mistake,
A princess of the dawn,
For this heart was unaware,
Her love couldn't be won.

The injustice of this tale,
Served by my soul
The ships have all sailed,
While I am alone at the shore.
The claps of the audience,
Don't muse me with awe,
The wind of the soul,
Don't move me this late,

She was a sun in the sky,
The gift of the infinite,
While I am a dust in this land,
The enslaved seconds of the minute.
But then I realised,
I never told her how I feel,
I cried in this foolishness,
The hidden truth as the shades conceal.

But I fear she will say no,
No to my faith.
I was a feather in this storm,
A green leaf as the autumn bathe.
Why the existence of pain in love?
Isn't it supposed to be a victory,
Well I was made a fool,
The heartbreak of the century.

So I ran with this fear,
That this story would be of pain,
For I confessed her the words,
While she was dancing in the rain.
And when she was about to proclaim
I woke to this windowed sunrise,
Shaping the shadows at the ceiling,
To see it was a beautiful dream.

— The End —