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Brandon Cook Feb 2014
You come to me and
ask me for advice
Let me tell you something
I may be your friend your brother
but I can't give you any

I got enough issues myself
I can't always help you
with your problems
I've thought about it over and over again
I'm just not built that way

Drowning in my own sorrow
I've tried but my life
isn't always iced sweet
I've been abused before
in ways you can't imagine
My life is full of hatred an unfinished puzzle

I've been to hell and back
friends ask me for advice
but I can't help them
I got personal problems in my own life
so go ahead and pass me that knife.
This is one of my first poems. Not really good but, just wanted to see if what other people say.
Brandon Cook Feb 2014
A million thoughts go through my head
not a day goes by
when I lay my self to bed
not a night will fly
that I don't wonder

Are you the one for me?
I notice you constantly
looking at me liking what you see.
If I was to ask would you answer me honestly?
Do you feel the same way?

We share a laugh
we flirt
I know deep down I've entered a trap
My undying love for you will always hurt
I don't know if I can go on like this.

Are you the one for me?
Maybe for you its different
all I know is that its like we were meant to be
Even if you were schizophrenic
I'd love you another day.

Maybe a little maybe a lot.
I even flower pick you know
Does she love me? Does she not?
It goes to show
That if it was meant to be.

We would be in a relationship
one of which we've spoken
You've given my heart a rip
one of which cannot be healed
so, if we ever do get together again.

Instead of playing my emotions
lets get with one another
but this time
the real deal.
Not really my best but it is something.
Brandon Cook Dec 2013
This world is changing
Things are being misplaced
and yet Im still on the verge of hanging
I'm ready to get away from the edge
and get on with my life

Continuanlly, I still ask myself is it worth it
Instead of just getting on the edge and dropping
Would it be easy enough to just fall
To end all of my problems
Will hurt as much as being thrown into a wall

This sensation to end my life
grows stronger
because I continue to ask for that knife
I care no longer
I yell reaper come sir use that scythe.

I wait and I wait and I wait
I say reaper am I not worthy
Is this not my fate
I know I have sinned is that why you
torture me more than I can bare.

Make me suffer with this pain
this guilt
this overwhelming power
so I can die
and no one care.

Here I am asking for death
and you don't come forfth
I'm treated as if I don't matter why wont you come
rather its west east south or north
why won't you take my soul

Far away a voice so small
a raspy voice so rough
a dark figure lurks high and tall
a wisper a wisper is all he bares
I listen and I don't understand

What is that you say
Speak sir speak more
Is this not my day
Reaper just open that door
let me pass through to the afterlife.

I no longer belong
Take me to the land of which there is no return
Is it so wrong
Please lay me down to rest
Provide with eternal peace.

Then, I see that scythe
and i'm
there
no longer.
Brandon Cook Feb 2014
I am from a tomb
from birds to bees to mother's womb
I am from mud and bricks
to pick up sticks

I am from his hand
that made me stand
I am from eastern land
to southern sand

I am from Adam and Eve
which brought beef
between saints and sinners.
I am from sickness  and health
and boy did I belch.

I am from those who are remembered
and never from those who are dishonored.
I am from the depths of heaven and hell
whenever a ring is heard from a bell.
I grow wings and fly
why did I die.

Well where I'm from that's what happens
to every young man.
I am from man and woman.
Way I learned was from cans
to upon the face with hands.
I am from Heaven and Hell
Brandon Cook Feb 2014
I look upon you with vengeance
bloodlust in my veins
we used to have an alliance
Now, all I see is blood stains
and pieces of what used to be.

My hatred for you all
caused your brutal deaths
the blood on the white satin sheet
caused by my self- indulgence
to feast on flesh.

If it wasn't for the chain saw
I would have killed you with my sharp teeth
especially when you crawl
that just amplifies my psychotic rage

You father
I loved our brawl
you would **** anyone for a quick dollar
If it wasn't for little sis and mother
tables would have turned to a free-for-all

Oh, my dear mother
you of all people
should know not to run
adrenaline pumping
heart thumping
blood coagulating

I strangled you, mother  
no remorse found
as you stared defenseless
into those dark glassy eyes
of what used to be brown
now stone cold as ice
blacker than the void of darkness

After, father and mother were dead
then, it was off with brother's head
and for little sis
well she was chopped into little pieces.

For this is the Death Toll
I think thus, far this is my best poem.
Brandon Cook Dec 2013
I stand there alone
wondering if things are ever going to change
I stand there like a statue made of stone
I wait and I wait till your in range
I see you, stood still in thought
You walk near to me, but yet your still to far
I stand there alone
I see you getting into a car
I stand there like a statue made of stone
You think you know me
Truth is you didn't know me
from start to finish.
You see me
basking in my own invulnerability
a taste of blood is what I ask for
I see you coming towards me
I pull out a piece of metal from my pocket
I got on one knee
and I kneel there alone
I kneel there like a statue made of stone.
I see you gasp
you put your hand upon your heart
I take that piece of metal and pull the trigger.
Bam!
Now you know me from finish to start
I stand there alone
for I am a man
I stand there like a statue made of stone
Then I turned and ran
for now you know me as The Hitman!
Brandon Cook Jan 2014
What is that?
More than just an object
glad you want ask
while were on the subject
under this temporary mask.

There's a whole other person
I may follow rules
That's just me
It doesn't label me a goody-two shoes
That's just how its meant to be

I listen to the teacher
I do me and that's respectful
So, keep calling me the preacher
Just know that some schools are a mess hole
and this school is on its way down the high road

I'm Christian
That is me
I'm tired of all these people dissing
So, now you see I'm going to be me
This is me

I go by Gods hand
his dream
up here tall I stand
So it seem
that by him I will perish

This is me high
and mighty having one dream
While tall I stand destined to die
Gods light will beam
For this is me

Brandon A-O Cook

— The End —