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"Now why would ye like me ta be only a *****,
Ye need one that much? Is it the only way ye can make yerself shine?
Stand up prouder than anyone else?
Why would ye like me subjected a ****?
Dejection lost in tis world,
Any town would do... Any time would do...
Ye couldn't make anything and anyone better,
Yer pride was cruel.

Why would ye like me ta be hateful and 'wise',
Standing too proud in the crowd,
Thinking myself what I,'m not...
Standing too low, becoming the filth of your beloved
And loathed... Loathful... Lost, gladly, for the best...

Learning that I must be everything,
No matter what, no matter how I feel...
Why would yer pride be so great and let me lead myself out of Hell? "
Breaking like the lightning crossing the skies on a story night.
"Why would ye want me ta be a *****?
Only a ****** *****?
Ye need one so bad...
Is this the only way ye can feel important?
Why would ye want me ta be a *****?
Is this the only way ye can be better?
Ye want all my life to go wrong.
Maybe this will make ye greater... "
It's something like an Old story, an old song, an Old Verse to be reversed. Old poems, young and Old and wise...
And With those words a Charles Bukowski with an add of Scots inspired line. Enjoy.
Shush, don't get yourself out of this,
Hush, don't mind what is only his
Now that he took what you will miss
Forcing your bliss, forcing your bliss.

Shush, Shush, don't you get out of Hell,
Hush! Hush, one must remain a shell.
(Stare into Horizons to sell)
Your heart craving to live and dwell,
You say farewell, you say farewell.

Don't rescue yourself, hush, darling,
Hush, don't you flee like a staring,
Listen to those demons snarling,
Save a sparkling, Save a sparkling.
Like animals kept in a cave
We Wait for a visit from you,
Oh, the prosperous life we crave!
Who will now do? Who will now do?


*Monotetra I wrote, having a push of inspiration (hellish). "May your Hell times be only too soft for you to understand real pain."
I am tall and handsome,
Pretty and smart,
I am very well cultivate,
A proud blonde,
Looking for a partner to keep me alive.

I am beautiful with waist that's thin,
Not too tall and not too slim,
Kind and generous,
Fine like a painting,
Like a muse,
Someone you can't touch to abuse,
Looking for a friend to keep me alive.

Looking for brains and pleasure of godly light,
Finding your friend playing the role of the enemy inside.
Remembering the times, good ol' times of checking the dates box in newspapers and 'zines.
To live a life in rebellious peace.

In rebellious peace a life to be led.

Lead a life in rebellious peace.

Rebellious peace in life.



A life (must be) led in rebellious peace.

Of rebellious peace.

A peace rebellious.

Rebellious a life led in peace.



Peace of rebellious life.

Rebellious a peace.

In life a peace, rebellious.

Peace rebellious as life.



To live! that peace, rebellious.

Rebellious a life in peace.

In life led, rebellious a peace.

Life rebellious peace acts.
An obsession Session turned into a poem. I found a contest asking to write a story in as little words as one can. Basically a line tells the whole story... But how is it told? What's its form and which form matters more? What's the preferred form and why? What's the difference? Does it make any? And if it does... how does that affect the entire story?How does the line influence the whole picture, the content and the frame...?

If you have some other forms of the same 'story' expressed above, please, do leave a note. I would be happy to discover how tall I can get this poem with the "same Old, same Old... A bit, just a little bit different, routine.

Thank you in advance.
You Keep me blinder and blinder with your love,
With your light,
Making me feel that I worth something in this world,
For the world we work'nd fight until we realise the world doesn't give a **** about what we do,

Blinder and blinder about what you really do,
For me, for our future,
For your Kind...
Yes, my heart used to be true...
We fought together and alone for the world
But
The world doesn't give a **** about what we did or wanted to do.

The world doesn't give a **** about what you need, about what we did or didn't do...
To think that we all fought
(together and alone)
And for what?
Duty... Honour... Respect. All garbage în the end. May I Thank you?
So, this is how I am supposed to feel,
I was quite normal in my opinion,
Feeling quite less than always needed,
Beads and feeds crawling down my cheeks
Along with serene tears filled with significance.

Well, this is how I'm supposed to feel,
You were perfect and I was there
To annoy, to enjoy...
It was a crave of the heart that knows your normal well
But never dared to feel like you...
Never felt as a necessary call.
Oh, well...that day came when I was shown wrong.
Well, well...

Well! This is how I'm supposed to feel.
How many lies do we have to be told? How many, for how many we want to be told. For how many we tell.
How many lies did you tel for your own
Good.

But there's hope for us and for our lies,
To be told,
Lies to tell
Everything goes well,
Swell, well, well, well...
Out of my deep well: w'ever;

All good to be, if it can,
Wish I slaughtered all disease,
Oh, well... Why not ask for more?
Well, well, well...
Out of my deep swell: 'tever.

As long as there' s still something good to Save...
Out of my deep Swell well:
Love forever.

But what does love means, to you?
What can be hatable?
Maybe you all know better.
I'll leave you with your knowledge:
LOVE forever.
Out of my deep well,
Swell forever.
Hurt a soul, disrepsected: why would one bother at all? wishing to take what gives me the comfort and leave you all behind, to live your perfect lives with all your pleasures.
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