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Samuel malum Feb 2019
who you around;
when there's no more followers
who you around;
when there's no spotlight

when your faith is lost; who'll pray;
when there's no fear of backlash
no invisible eye watching you;
when it ain't convenient

who's around when the sun ain't bright;
when the mood aint right
your disciples show hurt in love;
you just laugh it off

remember the time of nothingness;
dont abuse the love in excess
before you end up some 'digital jesus'
appreciate your "disciple saviours"

when you feel your world submerge before you;
after all's being said and done
and you've done your best to airbrush reality;
to photoshop as much

all fantasies having turned horror stories;
and your volatile illusion's imploded in your face
for laughing off;
your disciples love in hurt

and the sun's scortched and torched what's left of the photo you 'shopped';
when no titled's around; only subjects and disciples
when your helium castles fall and your titled vapourate;
and your inflatteable haven's desolate

recall the boring sermons by your 'subjects';
remember how they kept you grounded and safe
till you felt hate and fell bait;
envisaged and envied the 'sky castles'

when you realize they don't really care if you're happy;
just as long as they think you do
and eventually get off these dopium;
to realize life isn't nickelodeon

needing saving from yourself;
your wreck so big they've blocked the sun
realizing that it was always enough;
having lost your puff

in need of some constant;
Wanting out,
you'll know where to find your 'subjects';
right where you left off



so treat those who stick around through thick and thin with some regard even as they show love despite hurt.
appreciate someone who's stuck out for you today.

by: Samuel malum
Samuel malum Jun 2018
A romantic poet who's never been in love
A healthy boy in need of a cure
A so called saint in need of salvation
A perfect imperfection
A crush literally a crusher
The bearer of riches being broke
A beacon of hope the epitome of depression
A creator who hates his own creation
The salt of the earth in need of variety
A cliche I am ; what else can I be
In need of love yet so bad at it
How long will common reasoning elude me
How long will I delude myself
I'm the cause of my pain
The taint of paint
Giving so little yet demanding the heavens in it's glory.
Cliches of norms of society
All that funny hypocrisy
The heavens the hell's the god's the demons are all within you
why be ****** to feel
why be blind to see
That my imperfections my kryptonite my greatest superpower
start trying to be human stop trying to be
Destroy my imaginary castles reinventing my sand castles
Getting out of my head and making my bed
Making do with my reality
it's the realest thing in eternity
Dying with memories and not dreams
I am a cliche I am you
I'm not done yet it's just a draft

— The End —