Prophets of doom,
dishing out sorrow and gloom,
glorying in their knowledge,
tying weights to burdened souls,
receivers of blackened light and soiled truth,
if they only knew,
there are many others just as they,
spewing lies in God's name,
leading sheep
to a fiery hell.

Hidden

beating body
shaking nausea
wide eyed fear

a trickle down her leg
a trickle down her head

She is sick-
an infected rose-
with broken thorns-
ailing beauty-
ready to be discarded-
only good for compost-
Ill meet her there.

Strong and courageous,
Mind set,
Words and intention impeccable.

Money flows
from talent and desires,
time,
managed in exact
and perfectly planned compartments.

Influencing friends and family,
perfect relationships,
ruling as a king.

I'm a well oiled machine,
in my seldom recurring dream.

Love lurks like a wounded animal,
starved for affection,
scarred by rejection,
stalking weak minds,
seeing who next will be devoured,
it longs to lift it's prey on the wings of hope,
and drop them down
to it's inevitable conclusion,
despair.

Mkay so I cant spel,
sue me wat the hel!
Mown like an old gramar
who is stuk in payamas.

Jus leev me an let me be three

>:(

St Paddy is a devil
with a cruel taste for beer,
last night he beat me on my head
until my vision disappeared.

My eyes are feeling blurry
and my head is a balloon,
I dont know if I'll make it
until this afternoon.

My mouth tastes like a harbour *****
and my breath smells like a sewer
my brain cells are on strike
and my throat is like a skewer.