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Francis May 2018
Look! I can spell MOTHER:

MANIPULATIVE
OPPRESSING
TOXIC
HATEFUL
EGOTISTICAL
RESENT
I did it, guys! See?
Francis Sep 2017
A poise possessed, in unfulfilling actuality,
Longing for freedom, freedom from normality,
Quelling every bit of counterfeit congeniality,
A taste of reassurance, isolated from individuality.

Driving this jalopy, a man dressed to nines,
His undergarments ragged, camouflaged to blind,
His teeth are pearly, though the pearliness grinds,
A moment of glory, he has yet to find.

Phony fads infesting fraudulent causes,
He sits in silence, while sounding the applauses,
A bittersweet flavor of momentary diapauses,
Every year holds similarity, inevitably with menopauses.

Commitments crumbling, chafing positivity,
Vows are demolished, rebuilt with ****** proclivity,
Reputations are finagled with selfless anonymity,
As society lacks honest accountability.

A shadow he’ll reside’n, distant from sight,
While pleading for nobility and faithful delight,
To remain a man and not out of spite,
As a room filled with vultures ravage his might.
We all hide behind... what, for society.
Francis Aug 2017
A clinch of ten fingers onto a lonely bed sheet,
Circulation begins to ****** drastically,
A hooded figure suspended over me,
I'm exhausted,
Foam at my mouth begins to secrete.

Should've known or at least taken a thought,
Making no attempts to cleanse my poisoned mind,
This abused heart can't stand much more,
A state like this I've never been before.

Judging by my loss of gratitude,
The chickens have come home to roost,
What some may call karma,
I call a blessing,
A lifetime of dreading the one form of peace,
I'll ever encounter in my time.

All I'm seeing now is black,
And they won't turn back the clocks,
No matter how much I beg and plead,
They're just letting me die alone in my socks.
Johnny Cash's life inspired this poem
Francis Jul 2017
Emotional Cancer

Depression is like cancer,
Once you've got it,
It will most likely **** you,
And leave your loved ones wondering "why".

The amazing similarities,
They are both rapid,
They tear up lives,
And there is no true cure.

Treatment, yes,
But both ending in mortality,
There is no true cure,
There is no true cure.
Francis May 2017
How can you see the light at the end of the tunnel,
When you're constantly driving at night,
How can a cloud have a silver lining,
When the entire cloud is black?

Working to get a required education,
To pay for an optional education,
In order to apply for a job,
That requires both sets of education.

Working our whole lives to receive one piece of paper,
To get accepted by an academy that requires said paper,
Just to earn another piece of paper,
In order to get a job and earn more paper...

Yet they care so much about saving trees.

The bright side,
A side blocked by a wall constructed of human consciousness,
A self awareness far too complex and cruel,
Cruelty eating our species alive as we breathe.

Grass greener on one side,
But my side is dried up like jerky,
I roll it up and smoke it to gain a moment of clarity,
Nicotine rushes to my head,
Slowly killing me in sync with the daily tasks life requires.

God shows favoritism over those who show no effort,
And punishes those who abide by his laws,
Laws in which disbelievers defecate on,
And still he gives them gold stars.

A lack of significance happiness has with me,
It fails to correlate with responsibilities driven by such a fantasy,
When all there is the end of this bumpy road,
Is a cliff.
Let me just leave this here
Francis May 2017
Consistently inquisitive,
Of phenomena greater than man,
Searching for the solutions unknown,
Intuitive is forever my brand.

What happens when man,
Reaches beyond infinite measures,
When we meet below the abyss,
When society succeeds in endeavors?

The very curiosity of being,
Makes being all the more wild,
Dreaming of the unlimited,
Exceeding our endless multiverse.

Evolution or creation,
Big bangs and natural selection,
Why blue and red turn purple,
Or hot becomes cold on an axis?

A whipper asking why,
To questions that wallow in sunder,
We contain desires to seek the truth,
But will always be left to wonder
Francis May 2017
You roar while we weep,
We pray while you command,
A fickle bond,
A finicky repair,
To relations linked with blood.

A poison aiming to please,
When pleasing is what it does not,
It masks the weakness within,
Shying away from required antidote,
An antigen of pain and suffering.

I'll dance with this devil,
For I am the fruit of this darkness' *****,
I pray that you tragically vanish,
Yet still seek your guidance and nurturing.

A sheep in wolf's clothing,
With a demonic entity piloting your soul,
I tests the waters that are diluted with magma,
Ultimately annihilating any inkling of innocence I may still possess.

Bruising internally,
While external wounds begin to heal,
I suffer anxiety residing in this domicile,
A domesticated demon we've no longer entertained to tame.

Just a few more moons to go,
If few represented light years,
I hope and wait for the day to come,
Where you're a vision in my rearview mirror,
Only praying you won't distract me from the road ahead.
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