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This phrase is absolutely disgusting
and it is completely crushing.

This phrase is an invasion of privacy
and it constantly gives me anxiety.  

This phrase makes me want to throw up
every time you ask a CHILD before they grow up.

This phrase shouldn't exist
don't you understand the pain it inflicts?

Just leave us alone
to live our life.
Let us live outside of the shadows
and put away that knife.
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?  
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.  
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle  
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;  
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, –
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;  
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?  
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes  
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.  
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;  
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,  
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds
(C) Wilfred Owen
The toilet roll is narrowed by at least an inch
The kleenex box is shorter too.
The tuna can is lighter by an ounce
And applesauce has followed suit.

They take some costly spices out-
Call it improved and new.
The fancy wrapper doesn’t hide
That this is only one big *****.

They want to keep the prices low
At least that’s what they say
It’s all to pad their bottom line
And we’re the ones to pay.

A stylist says that less is more-
That may be true with art
But when it comes to merchandise
It stabs you in the heart.

Nothing lasts past warranty-
It’s obsolete next week
There is no point repairing it
The bottom will still leak.

The Doctor has no time for you
His patient list is endless
Insurance pays him less and less
That’s why for tests he sends us.

We all complain and grumble on
But yet we pay their prices
We need to get a rumble on
And cut their scams in slices.

We need to knock upon their door
And bang upon their table
We need to stomp upon their floor
As hard as we are able.

Then maybe can size once again
Will fit the recipe
And we can live with things that fit
No matter what the fee.
Everyone who cooks knows how frustrating it is when a recipe calls for a 6 oz. can of Tuna Fish and tyour can now holds just 5.  So you lose 1/6th of the flavor or you waste most of a second can.  Maddening.
She doesn’t want to hurt me,
But she’s already burnt me.
Flickered flame,
The sound of her name,
I’m undeniably attracted to the pain,
I wonder if I asked her to stay,
Against all odds would she remain?

Guess life’s too complicated,
Just us commiserated,
My thoughts not entirely sated.
I really wish we could have dated,
Remember apartment where it’s shaded,
Not all the feelings that I have are truly satiated.

I want to be there for you,
I just want to be your come through.
Help her learn to tie her shoes,
Like all good fathers should do.

But I’m a mess, you say you’re a wreck,
Something I’ve come to detest.
You say you aren’t enough, not the best,
But I think you are so much better than the rest.

You’ll never be alone, without a home,
This I’ve come to know.
One day your daughter will be grown,
On her own,
And the single tear will be shown.
That’s the life that you live,
The things that you did,
All for a kid.
The most important thing in the world,
There’s nothing more precious than
Your baby girl.
These poems are pretty much all i have left from keeping me from going insane.
Once I was very slow and placid,
Like a sleek of your mild hair
you told many times do what you need
Nothing to be done as with utmost care

We are suffering lots from dictator threat
Day to day humanity is totally dead
Someone on top to say he is great
I am undone Stupid little careless and mad

You're cherished well as amicable to me
You're really a wonderful and rigid backbone
My all doors is closed no way to  flee
Though I hypnotized  by your mellow tone

My heart is cleft looking dark not able to rid
From devils ruin, once I was fresh and placid
She hits the bottle
like she’s playing blackjack
Always wanting more
And inevitably losing it all

She stands in the remains
Of the destruction she’s caused
Filled with regret
Finding salvation
At the bottom of a glass

Coming home jubilant
To speak of all her successes
And all I hear is a buzz
The slurs in her speech
And lose sight of all else

Hearing loosely threaded stories
From that point on
Trying to find the holes
Where the honesty shines through
Knowing she’s far too happy
To be telling the truth

Filled with self loathing
Reeking of liquid courage
Losing her grip on what lies
She’s told before

She loops
And falters
At which point
I close my ears and walk away
Not wishing to waste my time
On tall tales and a tossup
No matter which side the coin lands
I’ve lost myself
In this battle with your illness
left my phone unlocked
on the taxi’s back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"

to which I replied,

Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"

and with an equally, beaming smile I continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was

Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...
or my knowledge thereof and it’s
proper pronouncement,
his amazement,
to disguise!

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving,
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim

^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months

true story, poetry is there for the taking
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