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To the girls who are secretly so broken
You WILL be alright
I know you have scars on your soul
Maybe your heart
Possibly your wrists
None of this is your fault
And even if you think it is
Let it go
Not that you can, that easily
But try
I know you are broken
I know you're not okay
Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine"
When what you really mean is "I'm alive"
But what do you really care about your own survival anymore
Well I just want you to know
There is beauty in broken glass
And to me
There is immeasurable beauty
In broken girls
So don't you ever forget
You cannot be defined by pain
You're too beautiful for that
Stay strong, broken girl
Nothing is ever really broken
Repost if you are a broken girl. So this message may reach as many of you as possible.

I am here for you. I may just be a sloth but if you message me: I'm fine.
Just randomly it will be our code for "I'm not fine at all" and I will be there for you.
///
When the time has returned
Hearts can't go out from you
Lost love seems to be a footprint
Decayed stone is a sign of thy

The last laugh
The flute
Putting forward the images of the day
Today it has grown a big miss for the poet

Spots at matches
Someone calls the untimely
I See
You see
Everything becoming change

Slow
Quick change
You and me
The Trees
The Hills
The River
All

Your restless mind
Grew cold
Even fastest cyclone
Became cool

Leaves fallen
Grew again
Spring came
And moved away

She came
She sang
Again she went away
Never hold back
Just left this footprint

The last laugh
The flute
Putting forward the images of the day
Today it has grown a big miss for the poet
///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Footprint, Today it has grown big miss for the poet
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he's voiding 'Art'
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he has bad dreams
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he's fantasized
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he babbles on
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh

Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
And with those runs he flushes on
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Egó here
And an Egó there
Here an Egó, there an Egó
Everywhere an Egó
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With an Artiste here
And an Artiste there
Here an Ar-, there a tiste
Everywhere an Artiste
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a sub par here
And a sub par there
Here a sub, there a par
Everywhere a sub par
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a mediocre here
And a mediocre there
Here a medi-, there an ocre
Everywhere a mediocre
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh
With a ******* here
And a ******* there
Here a rub-, there a bish
Everywhere a *******
Lógbrain Crappó has the runs
          Thee-I-Thee-I-Óh-Óh-Óh
with apologies to Old MacDonald...
Thee Artiste Carvó's "Maggot O' Pus"*

I open my fly
I beat

I close my eyes
And seep

Watch me now
To see the art

Thee art of a master-bater

I read your eyes
they show horror

They reflect Thee MasterPiece-of-****

Thee art of a master-bater
Thee art of Loghain Carvó

I open my lips and ****
For all these works are Thee Maggot O' Pus


Original ('Magnum Opus') by:      Thee Artist aka Logbrain Crappó
Reworked by:    CrE aka Trollminator
This is the first in a series of reconstructions of the drivel of "Thee Artiste" aka Logbrain Crappó which has been previously posted on HP.

True, nothing could possibly make Thee's mindless nonsense less lousy, but at least it can be put into a neater, though still steaming, pile...
 Dec 2014 Paula Lee
Joe Cole
Oh!
I pray, yes I pray
For acceptance
For the offer of friendship
From thee my lessors
For as the dust color rubs from
The wings of moths
Thus my brilliance must rub onto
Thee, though, I, oh!
But
If thee choose not to give
Friendship to I
Then in the depths of mediocrity
Thee must lie
Oh
Oh
Oh
Who but I can rejoice at
Birds in herds and fish in flocks
Rejoice at my offer of friendship
So that thee also can kneel in worship
Before my throne
Rejoice, yeah rejoice in my being
I the lord and master of art
My dear friend logbrain has asked me to post his new years message so that his lessors can rejoice in his artistic prowess
 Dec 2014 Paula Lee
Poetic T
I am in  a loop of sorrow
Always hearing
Repeatedly,
Afresh,
Repetitive
The words tie a noose
Strangling all thoughts.
"I am stuck in a cycle"
Of never letting go,
The emotions Switching between
Love,
Hate,
Regretting
That moment we said words not
Meant out of love, but anger,
You left tears like raindrop,
And then you were gone,
"I never told you"
"I would forever say"
"When Doors closed behind you"
"I LOVE YOU"
But in anger I said
"Be gone"
"Never come back"
Fate Is a cruel mistress,
"She heard these words"
And took you before I said I love you,
"One last moment"
"One last time"
But know now each
Day the sun rises,
"I love you"
Night eclipses the day,
"I love you"
When ever I shut the door behind me
"I love you"
But no matter how many times I repeat it
Your not here too hear my words,
I visit you, watch over you
"Eternally in slumber"
I love you and wish I said it that **day.
If ever in anger they shut the door always say you love them, fate is cruel that way
 Dec 2014 Paula Lee
Poetic T
I sat looking at my tree
Its scratched branches held
But tinsel fashioned from old foil
"Grease still smelt"
Hunger,
Wanting,
Warmth
"Needed in the cold morning"
Bottle caps, coloured adorned the
End of bare branches. If I smelt each one
Flavours of ill afforded treats,
The stomachs, roar as in a pride
Of hunger, growling at others to show their need,
"Sammy's Sarnies"
"We wait on empty promises"
Then the door "ajar" wrapped bread  throw out
"As if feeding rabid animals"
"The door slams shut"
We scatter,
"Each for themselves"
"There is no honour in hunger"
Mouldy,
Stale,
Relishing
That others would throw out,
"This is the Christmas on the street"
"Our trees of bare branches"
"Adorned with found things"  
Now added to the huddling circles
The caps release faint odours
As the foil burns,
I taste in the air what was,
That now burns too keep each warm in this pride
Of the street, tomorrow our  roars will
Once again roar loud, but tonight
It is about only keeping warm.
 Dec 2014 Paula Lee
Poetic T
I walked in to the room
A line upon the wall, "crayon"
Red,
Blue,
Black.
I was ascending, descending,
Thicker as it widened as its journey
Eclipsing the room. What wasn't upon the wall
Outside was now
Now saturated with lines,
But a difference as where there was
Blue,
Black,
Red
With fingerprints. What was dry now wet,
I watched it continue, like a moment
Carrying me along.
"My god the thickness"
"As my finger continued"
"New lines were drew"
"I needed more red"
"As words were wrote"
Crayons were
Red,
Blue,
&
Black,
"The line started"
"But it ends in red"
"In  Crimson"
"I dip my *******"
"In to your neck"
Look what happens when I needed the colours,
"You called me crazy"
But know look as I draw on the walls
Now you don't moan at the words wrote in blood
But they ran out so I used you instead.
I just wanted2draw upon the walls...
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