who watches the watchmen or something to that effect its an important thought they keep an eye on us but who watches them are they their own check a very ab-usable system if they can't watch themselves we get more watchers to watch the watchmen but that same problem pops up their overseers get corrupt so we must watch them but you know you can't trust us.
Dripping dropping If I was a narcissist I might think The rain was for me But I can play A sad song And stare glumly Out the window No matter why It rains It feels thematically Appropriate.
Slam your head Against the issue That will solve it Unless of course It's somehow harder Than your head Then all you'll have Is a cracked skull And an unimpressed audience.
run from the cat the light the giants run from anything not everything is trying to **** you but any of it could there's enough crumbs on the edges to survive.
Is it better to rule in hell or serve in heaven maybe rule in hell but it already has a king and a long line of successors i'll just be a lazy servant.
A rock thrown in a rage hit the other nothing personal except your existence kinda irks me I would feel bad maybe if you were one of mine why then I might be willing to die for you we need stand together against the evil of this world but you aren't for reasons.
Kind of a pain Kind of wonderful Kind of all sorts Of things really Stranger than fiction When it isn't Excessively mundane It could use A bit more levity And perhaps equality.
that dam bloodhound hunted me down and set to chewing on my spirit twenty bucks says it chokes Ha i'm kidding that mutt has eaten far grander souls than I without a hiccup.
Reality is whats real A fact readily accepted now if only we all agreed on what is real it's so simple the proof is right there Yet the truth whatever that is is denied with malicious intent or out of ignorance and sometimes malicious ignorance.
It's broken In a thousand pieces All the kings men yada yada Yet still you attempt to rebuild Diligently picking up the pieces Are you a fool For trying to fix The unfixable Or am I for never Trying at all.
you can have my hat when you pry it from my dead fist it has drops of red liquor from all those others who thought themselves my better and I suspect it will soon have A few drops more from you and your friends possibly your family to so come forward brave challenger I want to see your heart.
fay folk in the legends regular folk from what I've seen tie-dye with vital red savage minions rushing about with such naïve purpose maybe maybe I do you a disservice maybe you understand more than I did God knows I can't ask no good reason to prove what you might suspect.
They haunt me Those rage filled Sockets I wonder What caused it Or who Can they be calmed Would vengeance Be the fix Or is anger And hate all That's left.
My mind is full with a strong filter for my mouth there never freed is that right is that wrong I I don't know it makes me want to just bang my head against the wall.
You may regret that Or you may not Everyone is different And I can't read Your mind I don't think That anyone can lead A life with no regrets Just make sure Their a learning experience.
Why don't I drink Why don't i take Shot after shot And flee from reality Into sweet sweet oblivion Oh right That's not healthy And no one in easy reach Has any They have drugs Prescription And not But I suppose I'm too dam Law abiding for that Ah well I'll just write poetry Instead.
Are you just writing the same thing over and over like you're possessed tell your ghost story and free yourself of mad repetitive scrbbling if you can it may be even you do not know what you truly wish to say and every attempt drives the truth farther away A shame.
small talk chit chat same old same old say something new what can I say that hasn't already been said nothing comes to mind but god dam it has always been a favorite phrase of mine.
Can you see it what could be what is through anothers eyes through the peephole in the words is it pretty probably lies is it ugly might be lies to wanna another look?
Took a nap to while away the dull day only to wake after one hundred years A long nap indeed he found the world to be a strange place not really his place from what I've heard he would feel the same had he been awake.
Such disgusting creatures small and without pride they skitter all over they infest they distress they survive through atomic fire through haughty beatings they survive and thus the next generation does the same I suppose that's enough.
They say If you don't Love yourself You can't truly love Another person Which is a problem If you have A small heart If you really try You might fit one But two well That just won't work So it's you or me.
Everything was lovely once upon a time or so my mind claims there was unpleasantness but all that comes to mind was such energetic fun laughs and good times wait am I thinking of the Brady bunch.
waste away tis the way of nature to decay day by day to make way for something new decaying isn't fun nature doesn't much care but we do we often try to fight it or try to ignore it do birds care they would if they could probably.
I had noble aspirations I wanted to save them I fought with righteous indignation Yet all I caused was harm I lead them astray I said that in the end Things would be better But in the end Things are much the same.
******* puzzles praise be the hammer something to solve the accursed complications with ease and a lack of thought perhaps there's a better way but it would take forever.
where did everything go where once stood such fine architecture there is only rubble red dots the land and the lady moon just looks down on the creatures she sees you just know that arrogant sun will hear about this in the morning and those celestial rivals will laugh and laugh.
It's easy to dwell On the dark side of life Focus on the pain But it isn't healthy Or so I'm told So maybe Think about sloths They're pretty funny And if that doesn't work I don't know Try reading a book Something not written By Edgar Allan Poe.
Raiders took the temple killed the priests and looted the sacred graves the gods had nothing to say at least that the living heard the raiders suffered losses most still looked forward to next years raid.
A follower of the marquee A proponent of pain Possibly handy With a blade Those viscous folk Who feed on pain What's the appeal Perhaps it's just A sort of quirk Albeit of a more Malevolent sort I hope you don't Bring them home.
Strong arms can seem like all the protection you will ever need till they let you go or otherwise fail you and you realize how feeble a protection flesh is.