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 Dec 2015
Chloe Zafonte
You may have created me
But you will never be my parent
You killed every chance you had
Didn't even spare it
You've shown nothing but abuse
Using the term "dad" as an excuse
******* us all up with your selfish desires
Loving you will never be required
I don't care if he's my Father I have no reason to respect this man, he did not give me life he gave me hell.
it is important
to have all our emotions
and freely visit with them
to know them, to respect them
and to tell them only truth
Tanka
 Nov 2015
Joel Frye
people, stop killing
each other for god's sake; then
we will live in peace
 Nov 2015
brandon nagley
When Satan cometh knocking
Hand him a cross;
He always run's away.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
King James bible ( James chapter 4 verses 7-8.. Flee from evil and it will flee from you... Mine poem's saying when Satan comes knocking into your life hand him a cross-meaning ask for Christ's help and turn to Christ. Then Satan will flee you as the only one he will flee is Christ because Satan knows who Christ is. The king! God's son,...
7Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 8Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.
 Nov 2015
Cat Fiske
I hate myself,
I hate myself,

don't you **** ever think I loved myself,

no way in hell could I ever,
I'm ****** sure to never tell,

tell what you ask?

on how I came to hate myself,

on how I came to hate every last thing,
about,
myself.
 Nov 2015
bones
I dread the sound of its passing
and the call of its merry chime
on the hour every day
the price that I pay
for life is a fear of time...
 Nov 2015
Austin D Woodruff
Because
you
are
here today.

Means
you
have
another chance.

So
please
open
The Bible your grandma gave you!

I promise it has the power to save you
I believe in the name of Jesus who was before all things and all things were created by him and in him all things hold together in his righteous judgement for he is returning with wrath upon this world and will save his followers for it is by grace we are saved and by faith we follow and by The Word of God we live.
loving without strings
living it with all your heart
demands inner strength
you cannot and should never
blame your love for not caring
they are them and you are you
sometimes what feels forever
is not in the cards we play
the queen of hearts gone missing
though you were sure you held her
so shuffle the deck again
pick up your hand and play it
someday you may win
 Nov 2015
Paul Butters
I’m no author, novelist or poet.
I’m just Me,
And don’t I know it.
I don’t need to be classified,
As long as I’m writing, I’m satisfied.

Typing out words, line by line,
I don’t care if they don’t rhyme.
I don’t care if my verses don’t scan:
I’m not always an Iambic Man.

I just say what I gotta say,
I’m not worried about any pay.
Words come to me without much bidding,
The world of its evils I hope to be ridding.

I love to spread lots and lots of Love,
Bringing peace to all like a messenger dove.
Things of beauty bring joy, John Keats rightly said,
To make us sleep easy when we go to bed.

So I’ll paint what I paint,
And sing what I sing,
Just letting those words
Do their magical thing.

Paul Butters
Inspired by someone writing you are not an author just because you upload work to self-publishing sites.
 Nov 2015
wordvango
if can never be hope
that it matters not
it is in this season
shivering early
dark

will  if ever it can ever be
more shattered  thought
without positive reason
arriving nearly
stark

may be if ever was more
the time to be distraught
with earths poisons
the cold un-endearing
heart

mighty oaks  elms still
soar ever naked bereft
a sudden more
rest in their  winter
bark

tiny ever  shudder burrow
underground left
huddle more together their
treasures can not be
forgot

ever more than ever
hope more ever will
be needed
than when
the days grow short.
 Nov 2015
r
A professor explained to me once
how there is a limited number
of possible designs for making
an arrow point function as intended.

You can't stick a round rock on a stick
and expect it to penetrate like a dart.

It has to be sharp and hard, yet light
to fly like a feather straight and true
to the heart. I said, you mean like love?

She said, yeah, like love, kinda like love.
 Nov 2015
Sjr1000
A ghost town stands in the Eastern Sierra
just up the road from ancient Mono Lake
A long dirt road, you have to take

Now a dead mining town with its buildings
still intact,
There were riches everywhere,
once it boomed and roared.
The bad man from Bodie, he was once called.

But between the winters,
the end of timber,
the mines ran dry
a killing every night,
There is silence now,
All those riches returned to sand.

Oh, America,

It's the killings
everyday
every night.

Where America, I ask of thee
Where America, does all this violence breed?
So many on the ground to bleed.

42,000 shot
and still counting
killings everyday
killings every night.

America
oh America
Where does it come from
all of this rage?

Frustration
Anger
Cold blooded eyes

Harsh life
in the boom town
Hard to get it right?

The Old West
is
the New West
life is short and desperate

Another shot rings out in the night.

We're all dancing as fast as we can
or in the can
numbed out by alcohol, speed and ******,
eyes buried deep inside electronics.
Anything to make it all right
as the walls close in.

Depression they say
is violence and homicide
turned inwards instead.

The Old West had the Civil War
The New West has its
endless wars

here we go again.

We're all alone
in this world
that's for sure.

It hurts my heart
to hear her say,
"Goodbye God, we're going to the old USA"
"Goodbye God, we're going to Bodie" was reportedly said by a young girl whose family was heading to Bodie to live.
 Oct 2015
Y Rada
It is difficult to be a man,
For I am not a typical one.
It is hard for me to go on,
There’s a secret that pulls me.

I loathe when my memories strike,
They hit emotionally with might.
I struggle so much to survive,
In a world so deaf towards my cries.

I look at a He and my heart convulses,
For I recall a He who gave me kisses.
I was young, forced and naïve,
I fought but He was much stronger.

Society might tell that I’m gay,
For I let a man violated me in a way.
But I’m not a ***** and I’m sure,
I play a role for which others envy.

When I was a teen I met her,
I admired her even if she’s older.
I was then shy and very timid,
With mental and emotional scars.

I thought of her as a dear friend,
Then she turned to be my worst fiend.
One instance she forced herself on me,
And used things that hurt me so.

A girl’s tactics differ from the stronger ***,
Tears she used first and blackmail next.
She was cunning, sly and very clever,
She stole my pride and my dignity.

My fears now mixed with anger,
My determinations got bolder.
I still cry and sometimes get lonely,
Like any other victim I want to fight.

I can not shout to the whole nations,
For societies will scorn at my declamation.
Both sexes forgot that I have feelings too,
I am also made of flesh, bones and spirit.

I am not proud of what I become,
Within me clouding reasons try to calm.
My desire is to win this battle to the end,
I am capable of vulnerability like any human.

But where does my right begin?
This universe has compassion for women.
The likes of me are expected to be steel made,
Yet I have feelings too for I am just a man.
Dedicated to all abused males by other men and to the men abused by females. A simple shout out to the world that I care…that I have heard your cries… and that you are still loved.
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