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familiar tune
my children's laughter follows
the mountain stream

Written by
Marion Clarke
How long will I be happy
That I am alive
When injustice
Corruption
and
Unemployment
Deprived me of living

I am a living death
For I am a tool of dependency

How long will I be happy
That I am alive
When I cant cater for my life

When my fellow mortals
Cheat and deprived me
Of better live as they trade
My soul on poverty lines

It is better to die
than to fiend on
Path of long pains
Hoping everyday hope
that never comes

Accomplishing nothing
By inflicting pains
To fellow beings
and nature as well

Written by
Martin Ijir
 Dec 2017
sadgirl
//

The definition of thot [that ** over there], via Urban Dictionary

A woman who pretends to be the type of valuable female commodity who rightfully earns male commitment—until the man discovers that she’s just a cheap imitation of a “good girl” who is good for nothing, and definitely not for relationships or respect.

If women are products, then thots are cheap goods. More than that, they’re knockoffs: low-quality merchandise that attempts to masquerade as luxury items.

They generally dress in cheap clothing, try to act like they're better than they really are, or think they're not ****** but high class when they're nothing close to classy. They demand respect, money, gifts, dates but do nothing to deserve any of it because they have no self-respect, no manners, low self esteem, little education and on top of all that they are thots because they have no self worth.

//

he called me a thot.
the same blood-boy nightmare who bragged about his ******* and double cup. too cheap to buy actavis generics, so he drank himself into a stupor on walgreens brand dye-free cough syrup. he acted black, said words white boys shouldn't have near their mouths. his friends were ableist at the best, and misogynist at worst.

he called other girls thots too.
but i was different. stick-and-poke told trans king who told american spirit who told blood-boy what i confided in a friend. a story that ends and begins with my tears, tears from gagging, tears from telling my mother about the worst three minutes of my life and how my knees and heart hurt afterwards.

i embodied thot.
left my family for friends, joked about the pain until it hurt even more. i found myself crying in bathroom stalls, looking down at my body in the bathtub as i learned to breathe water. the girls said i was thick, i didn't know if they meant it in a good way. the boys said worse. i wore camouflage pants, comme de garçons tops, air force ones. i jumped on trends like a wild cat stalking prey. but i could never catch anything worthwhile with my soft, clawed paws.

he smiled like he was better than me.
after blood-boy stunned summers and winters alike, burned spring and fall, and for what? to call me a thot? i knew what i was to him. but he didn’t define me anymore.

he called me a thot.
and this time i fought back with my eyes, didn’t just sit there and feel words welling up inside.
because even thots are queens.
because i used to be deciduous, but now i’m evergreen.


//
 Dec 2017
Martin Mikelberg
retirement,
meeting the postman
for the first time
written in 1998, when I retired
 Dec 2017
r
My soul
is getting older,
the nights are colder

and the soles
of these soft worn out
doe-skin boots are thinner

every day, way too thin
to keep the thought
of a frozen plot at bay.
 Dec 2017
Liz And Lilacs
?
If you're writing from your heart...
Is it art?
 Dec 2017
V
Wear your scars like tattoos,
Let them remind you of the times you could've died,
But you learned to swim with the tide.
<3
 Nov 2017
Marisa Lu Makil
I miss you and the
Snowy mountain tops and the
Misty miles of pines
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