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Drop your Grudge Rants
by the door
We Will Not Tolarate
This Anymore

Edit and toss Distasteful Rhymes
Ugly Poems with Vain designs

Haughty thoughts and
bitter words
Childish petty accusing verbs

Who did What to Who and When
Will this Clusterfuck never end?

Selfish actions, Spoiled Children
We Refuse to be your Minions

Like CNN
And Drone Fox news

We've had enough of
Self Serving views

Hurting hearts, far and wide
tender Poets with
tenuous pride

Yet, Strutting and Indignant
for who I ask?
All those involved,
A Donkeys ***

Not a home for
Egotistical Zealots
Nor a place for
flinging pellets

We come in Peace, HP to share
Not get caught in ugly snares

And to the few that
have the gaul.

"If you have nothing decent to say,
say nothing at all"

YOU CHOOSE TO USE
HP THIS WAY.
GO AWAY. FIND SOME
WHERE ELSE TO PLAY.

●HELLO●HELLO●HELLO●**
                

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
☆ YES, I AM YELLING ☆
Many of us feel so cheated when we
have a moment to come onto HP
and our time is wasted by ugly
degrading Rant Writes
against other Poets.
SERIOUSLY. . Come on.. REALLY???????
Everyone wants to be a superhero.
Or a supervillain, in some cases.
Everyone wants to be special,
To defy the norm,
To be loved,
Praised,
Worshipped.

I’m one of the lucky few who got what they wanted.
But here’s the thing about wishes;
There’s always a twist.
A glitch in the code,
A setback,
A call to reality,
To make us pay for our selfish wants.

What’s my power, you ask?
It’s certainly a good one.
And my curse?
It’s a doozy, I’ll tell you that.

I can’t fly,
I can’t communicate with animals,
Can’t breathe under water,
Don’t have super strength,
And I can’t see through steel.

I have the best power of them all.
I can become Invisible

I can easily slip away from anything without being noticed,
I can watch the world unfurl, completely unaffected.

Thing is, I can’t become visible when I want to.
My power chooses its own schedule.

Meaning…
I’m completely alone, 80% of the time.
I can’t make friends,
Because they can’t see me.
I can’t have conversations,
Because no one wants to talk with a ghost.
I get left behind,
Because no one knew I was there in the first place.

I must be strong.
I have to be.
Because no one will be there for me.
No one wants to care.
No one can.

I talk to myself,
Or watch the world like a show,
Craving to be a part of it.
I know it’ll never happen,
But it’s always fun to dream.

Of being loved,
Wanted,
Noticed,
Acknowledged.
Heck, I’d even settle for being hated,
If it only meant that I would get to know what it feels like,
To be looked in the eye.

Have you ever felt the feeling,
Of being looked through?
Like a window,
Or a spirit?

It starts to get to you, ya know?
You start to think about it,
Start to stop seeing yourself as well.
Suddenly, you don’t even exist.
Not to anyone,
Not even yourself.




Oh, yes.
I am so,
Very,
*Special
Sincerely,
No One.
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