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Sam Oliver May 2010
You're late.
What do I do?

I know.
We're only friends.
I want us to be more.

You're later.
I'm frantic.
Thinking of you,
I can't focus.

I want to see you.
I want to talk.
I want to reach you.
I want to walk-

Together.

I'm not whole
Unless we're

Together.
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
“Despite all your love for your fellow man, God has gone out of his way to poison you.” I said. The man had been a wreck for most of his life, and the time was right to reap his poor soul. “You have gained nothing that didn't hurt you in the end.” A visible tear rolling down his face, his eyes stared, watery at the back of her head as she walked away.

“People keep speaking of hope and perseverance...” I whispered, his friend putting his hand on this poor man's shoulder, right beside me and offering condolences as I continued to talk. “...But that's what got you this far. Hope is the only reason you are still alive after years of torturing yourself, living amongst these uncaring philistines who consider themselves people, doing everything you can to better their lives, all they give you is grief.” I ended with a bit of a chuckle. He shrugged off his friend's helpful words and separated from him.

“The Bible is an old relic. Judging by your life thus far, do you really think he'd make a place for you in his Heaven?” He stood on a bridge, staring out into the night sky. Even the stars and the moon would not shine on his this cloudy night... What a perfect time to hit him where it hurt... “You aren't worthy. You were born ugly, you have been battered and bruised by everyone you have ever loved, despite many of them claiming the same love of you.” I said. The man had struggled all his life to be loved and this, his twentieth failed attempt, was sure to be his last, the final straw in a life of suffering at the hands of others. Doubtless, he was remembering those many nights where things had looked joyful, only to deceive him of the troubles ahead.

“God has done nothing if not lied to you your whole life. He's taken away all your joy! He's taken your will to laugh, to enjoy the simple things!” I continued, a smug grin spreading across my lips as he walked towards downtown. “Is this the kind of God who would grant you a place among angels? Surely not.” He walked into a pawn shop, his eyes scanning through the armaments laid out before him. Fortunately for me, this day had been a long time coming, and he had previously applied for a  license. He picked out the cheapest pistol available and a small box of rounds. “You are not human in the eyes of men or God and thus, you cannot be saved.” He smiled a fake smile and waved a goodbye to the store owner as he made his way back out. He turned into the first empty back alley he could find.

He rifled through his items, readying the gun in one hand, one of the bullets in the other. His whole body shook in fear and nervousness. “So, lift the cannon,” He held the gun at about chest-height. “Load the charge,” He slid the chamber back to where he could manually load the single shot and slipped it in. “**** it.” He put the chamber back in place, so the gun could properly do its job. “Take it to your 'holy temple'.” He broke out in loud sobs, using his thumb to pull back the hammer.

“Pull the trigger and let the peace of nothing wash over your poor animal soul.” The deed was done. The man no longer suffered the slings and arrows of this world. Instead, he would dangle forever in the halls of Hell from the trees of tristitia...
Sam Oliver May 2010
All good things
Come to an end.
All good mornings
Turn to noon,
All good suns
Make room for their moons.
All good things
Others can rend.

All bad things
Come to an end.
All bad nights
Change to the morn,
All bad fights
Hear their finishing horn.
All bad things
A heart can mend.
Sam Oliver May 2010
A Love Poem.
Purposeless,
yet made for a purpose.
The product of an obsessive mindset.
I hate them.
They are not straightforward.
Desperate
Are they who write them in
Metaphors,
Which at some point have
An ending.
'My Love is deeper than the sea'.
That may be...
But there are things
Deeper than the sea
Which we may never know.
What if it doesn't work, my friend?
You just sing the same verse,
Different tune,
To another.
A Love Poem.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Don't cut,
my dear.
Without blood,
how will you blush
when I hold you?

Don't hate
yourself.
You've nothing
to loathe.
Especially with
me beside you
every step of the way.

Don't pierce,
my dear.
Your heart
has taken
the arrow
too much for
the skin to
take the needle.

Don't drink,
my dear.
I'm sure
your lips
are intoxicating
without it.

Don't cry,
my dear.
I would prefer
that your eyes
were clear,
so I could give
the gazing
they are overdue.

Don't laugh,
my dear.
I may live
because of you.
Sam Oliver Oct 2010
A name I will never forget,
Boring into my skull like a drill.
Her face,
Her laugh,
Her talents,
Made me love her.

But all I got back was
Mindgames,
Abuse,
And contempt
For all of my love and devotion.

I'd love so much to hate her,
To hang her picture high
And toss her knives and darts
For abandoning all her friends
And the people who loved her like me.

But I can't will myself to do it.
So she will live on forever
In my tortured head.
Sam Oliver May 2010
What holds you together?
What holds anyone together?
I tell you mine,
You tell me yours.

She fills my ear with sweet nectar
When all I hear is hell.
She holds my hand in brightest light
When darkness takes its spell.

When all the world's against me,
I feel kisses along my neck.
She holds me tight,
Together,
When I'm not more than a wreck.

I feel her lips,
She has no face.
She sets my heart
Right into place.

When all around me give me hell,
I feel her there.

And I call her Angel.
Sam Oliver May 2010
I must be an anomaly.

Something weird.
Some kind of creature
That no-one has seen before.

Is there any other reason
why people flock to me
but do not love?

'Isn't it odd?'
'Isn't it strange?'
'Isn't it so vile,
so disgusting,
that you can't
help but stare?'

As far as I know,
I'm still human;
But other people
always seem to know best.
Sam Oliver May 2010
For you,
I perscribe:

One pill of
'Hold me',
Two pills of
'Kiss me',
Four milliliters of
'Love me'.

Taken daily.

Side-effects may include:

'Leave me',
'Hate me',
'Use me',
'**** me'.

If these occur,
report back to me
immediately
for
euthanasia.

Trust me,
you won't live through it.
Sam Oliver May 2010
In a perfect world
There would be no poetry.

No need to pine for love.
That would be a God-given right.
No need to protest.
There would be no need to fight.
No need to despair.
There would be no desperation.
No need to shout in rapture.
That would known throughout the nations.

But the world is not perfect.

I need not say it.

I suffer,
You suffer,
There's no real need to play it.
That record will skip and repeat,
skip and repeat,
skip and repeat,
and death may only delay it.

But the world will never change.

Why should I even say it?
Sam Oliver May 2010
I am made of nothing
Finer than grains of sand
Which ebb and flow
With the pushings,
The pullings
Of the tides.

These tides we live in
Reflect within us
In unpredictable waves.
We've made large dunes
In hopes to never yield to the mighty wind,

Only to realize
That the grains gradually blow away.
Sam Oliver Jun 2010
At this point,
I'm probably
Not worth
The effort.

Armor old,
Armor untouched,
Armor tarnished
By age and weather.

At this point,
I'm probably not even worth
The effort to acknowledge.
They all want a knight
In shining armor,
But only until it turns black.

They all want to be saved,
But they never think twice
Of their savior.

That's fine.
When armor,
Tarnished,
Turns to rust,
All their worries
Will be dust.

At that point
I definitely
Won't be
Worth the effort.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Can I have you back?

Your windows to the soul
Opened wide.
Our arms tight around each other.

Can I have that back?

My sweet everythings.

Can I give them back?

Your sweet nothings,
Can I take them back?

Even if they were
only empty words,
I want to be fooled again.

Can you please fool me
forever,
until the day I die?

No.
That would be asking too much.

You have already turned on me,
for all the things I did.

How dare I love?

How dare I forgive?

How dare I rise above
adversity?

How dare I continue to live?

Your sweet smile,
Can I have it back?

You,
Can I have you back?

...

Of course not.

A true lover
Cannot be loved
In kind.
Sam Oliver May 2010
I feel like that everyday.

Abandoned.

Like a stray.

Not that I hadn't worked.

Not that I hadn't deserved.

Not that I hadn't earned
my share of happiness.

But that people were too busy
looking to be happy
with the happy
than trying to bring happiness
to the unhappy.

Some people get more than they deserve.

Other people get less.

Love unevenly spread
can cause an unsightly mess.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Dear feminism,
You're doing it wrong.
Showcasing your gender
in physical form
does not open awareness
of a woman's
mental
and
emotional
wealth.
It merely confirms
misogynist thoughts.
If you want
to make a point,
don't generalize your targets
as pigs.
Rather,
express what makes women valuable.
Men can be deeper
than your delusions
let you know.

----------

Dear homosexual male community,
I am repulsed
that people can
associate me
with you.
Emotion
or thought
or open-mindedness
or expressiveness
should not denote
****** orientation.
I love women to the point
that I am overly chivalrous;
why should me
being in touch
with my emotions
or being different
than the
'male status quo'
change my sexuality?

P.S. - Homophobia is fear of homosexuals,
not,
as you'd havepeople believe,
the dislike or refusal
to treat the act as natural.

P.P.S. - The way
you portray yourselves,
you are still straight,
you only prefer your
women
to have a ***** attached.

----------

Dear fellow men,
A lot of you are
perverted.
You focus on
superficial things;
the *****,
the rear,
the hair color,
the eyes,
the shape...
For what purpose?
It is the mind
and the personality
that matter most.
It is because of you
that women have
painted our gender
as monsters,
pigs,
rapists.
And many of you are,
because,
in your minds,
can the women give any consent?
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
To say I am
Against the wall
Is so cliche.
I am against two.

Cornered by society
And it's influence on people.
Women are manipulative beasts,
Men only exist for carnal pleasure,
And here I am blocked on either side.

What does love
Mean to the world?
For some,
It is lust,
For others,
Merely a word of appreciation.

For me,
It is a word of deep devotion.
I would die before I ever misuse it.
So why is it
That all around me,
People commit an infinite cycle of suicide,
Killing their own souls
With the killing of such value?
Sam Oliver Apr 2010
Gay men are fit to love.
Straight men are fit to curse.

Save the trees.
Save the whales.
Save the seals.
Save the vile criminal.
**** the innocent fetus.

Bush is hated for starting a war.
Obama is loved for perpetuating it.

Hating a black man
Is racism,
Despite his own actions towards you.
Hating a white man?
Expected.
Smiled upon.

Black Power?
Okay.
*******?
Damnable.

A *******?
Fit to marry.
A Gentleman?
Fit to trample.

A man courting a woman?
Accepted.
A woman courting a man?
Strange, unheard of.

Not trying to be political.
Not trying to be partial.
Just trying to be social.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Take everything you knew.
Imagine it all as a lie.
What would you do?

Would you shout in anger?
Would you cry in sadness?
Would you delude yourself
to continue believing?

Take everything I am.
Rebuild me as you want.
Am I any better?

Am I whole?
Am I sane?
Am I any more worthy
of love?

Take all your misconceptions.
Tell yourself there are always exceptions.
Do you hold exceptions to your misconceptions of me,
or am I still damaged?
Sam Oliver May 2010
Death?
Hah.
You know nothing of it.
It's your only destination,
So why do you fear it?

Life?
What is the meaning of life?
It's a train that can seem to go on forever,
Or seem to be the shortest ride ever.

The Reaper?
He sells you the tickets.
He draws you in.
But it's your choice which ticket to take.

Your Destination?
Look at your ticket.
What does it say,
my friend?

If it's the Wasteland,
I feel sorry for you.
It burns like Hell
And goes on for an eternity.

But, hey, it was your choice.
Your choice to steal the money,
Your choice to lie.
Your choice to make
Someone else's life
The Misery you'll experience
Forevermore.

You ride first-class,
Among many others
Who did things
Possibly worse than your own sins,
But ended up a success in the eyes of man.
Someone can change your ticket for free if you want,
But you have to give up your ways.

You find a sort of Primal lust of pleasure there,
and you most likely won't want to change your ticket until it's too late.

If your destination is The Manor,
Keep it up!
You are luckier than the others...
You ride coach,
True,
But make sure your eyes don't stray towards those
Who seem more fortunate.
They won't show you their tickets,
Because they're ashamed a bit that they chose it,
And the fact they're headed elsewhere from you.

But,
They treat you with disrespect,
With hatred.
This is because they envy you.
They envy your striving to be as pure,
As innocent as a person can be.

Do not read their actions as you being filth.
Nor treat them as they treat you,
Or you may become one of them yourself.
Your destination is peaceful,
Despite your mistreatment on the ride there.
Treat them as good as you would your friends,
Because although their ride may be pleasant,
Their destination is lacking.

As I stare into coach,
It looks so empty.
There are few people there on this train.
I hope to get my ticket changed.

-How about you?
Sam Oliver May 2010
I'm sure you're all disappointed.

I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.
But I'm not perfect,
I'm not royal,
I'm not handsome.

I'm noble,
yes.
But nobility gets you nowhere.

I'm sure someone blew things out of proportion.

I am flawed.
I am poor.
I am ugly.

The closest I get to a royal decree,
is raising my pen or pencil in hand,
like a scepter,
in triumph of an accomplishment,
either in word or in art.

I am ugly.
I am poor.
I am flawed.
I am the prince charming
you grew up hearing about.

And I'm sure you're all disappointed.
Sam Oliver May 2010
He is I
I am me.

Time
And Time
And Time
And Time Again.

Time, it was my friend.
Time and time again.

Writings all over the walls come down.
Movies playing in my mind all drown.
Showing me that all it takes is time
To mend,
All it takes is time to rend-

-er my mind,
Breaking time,
Drowning sorrow so
It falls, it falls, it falls, it falls
Into nonexistence, and I

Can't take this life,
So he will die...

But so can I.

-Not today, but long after tomorrow,
Unless God wills, I'll drown my sorrow.
Drowning sorrow so it can never
Walk across my mind again.


Hating hate so I can find an end
To the violence of my heart,
And I can find a friend
That will never let me down
If I just let my sorrow drown.
Sam Oliver Nov 2010
I am nothing without someone who can make me into something.
Valuables aren't valuable unless the owner grants it value,
And so
I am worth nothing,
Because my owners have deemed it so.
They own my heart,
My soul,
My allegiance,
But they throw it around like it's disposable.

And so,
It is.

My disposable soul will gladly destroy itself for their whims,
Because they own me,
And they give me value.
Sam Oliver Dec 2010
What is it about a man who's selfless
That makes everyone around them selfish?
Why is it that when someone gives of themself,
That everyone only takes?

There is no such thing as an unlimited supply.
For one to keep bleeding themselves empty,
They must be filled.

An empty pitcher cannot give anything more
Than the remainder of its body.
Yet you can expect a man to always give,
Without ever receiving anything more than what he gives?

I'm sorry,
A man who gives all of his lifeblood
And never receives in kind
Is a corpse
No matter how long you beg him
Wanting more.
Sam Oliver May 2010
If a woman says
'All I want is a good man',
She's a liar
Or she'd have found me.

I'm not the fool I once was.

'I'll love you if you let me love someone else.'
'I'll love you if you ***** me.'
'I'll love you if we can have a baby first.'
'I'll love you if you have no life outside of mine.'
'I'll love you if you do me a favor...
Or two...
Or twelve...'
'I'll love you if you were more feminine.'
'I'll love you if you can be fine with me sleeping with her.'

No woman simply loves.
There are always extra conditions
Hidden in the fine print of their contracts.
Something to hurt you.
Something to poison.
Something to test you when you don't deserve to be tested.
I feel like a lab rat,
Poked and prodded for far too long,
And no-one on my side without their own agendas.
Sam Oliver Sep 2010
To say one thing to the world?
A daunting task.
I can scarcely know what the world needs,
Sitting here,
In this country,
All my life.
But
I do know what America needs,
And by extension,
Maybe the world, also.

Fellowship.
Not the kind that is forced by governments,
Who would take from hard workers
And their families to provide for others
In harsh times.
That is false,
And only plants resentment.

No,
We need a common fellowship of man,
Where men give of themselves and their efforts
Not because they were required,
But because they were respondent
To the human condition.
Everyone picking each other up when they fall,
And only expecting the best of their neighbors.

In a world like that,
There would be no depression,
No charity cases,
No forgotten souls,
Just love
And Fellowship.
Sam Oliver May 2010
I love you all,
Even if I have nothing to show for it.
I'm sorry for being trouble.

Forget Me.

I'll be gone sooner than you know.
I ask you all something,
Promises you must keep;

Forget Me,

I want you all to live,
I want you all to live a full life
Where you'll never have to weep,
And

Forget Me.

These promises, you must keep.
Sam Oliver May 2010
This is for you,
The one who has yet
To hurt me;
The one who honestly
Seems to care.

This is for you,
The sole hope I hold.
This is for you,
The heart made of gold,
Who has yet to abandon.

I'm sure you will
In the future,
But for now,
This is for you.

While I loathe
Your indecisiveness to love,
I love
Your drive to stay beside me,
Assuming it's not from pity,
But from genuine caring.

This is for you,
A poem of appreciation.
Thank you for casting
Light on my darkness
When no-one else's
Was to be found.

Here's hoping
The dark won't take me
After you're gone.

This is for you.
I love your soul.
I love your mind.
Too bad minds
Always change
Like the old cogs
Of a clock.

This is for you.
Time is not on my side,
But I'm glad you are,
This time.
Sam Oliver May 2010
A poem
is like a fountain of youth.

Makes it's writer immortal
whether he or she
wants it or not.

I'd rather not
be immortal.

But this fountain of youth
is a fountain of words
from a mountain of thoughts

That if said
could make a fountain of tears

I'd rather not put people through it.

If I wrote for death
I am cursed to live.

All my thoughts
written down
have made me immortal.

And unfortunately,
they can't be
erased from
the minds of those
who took time from their lives
to read my words
and add to mine.

I'm sorry for making a fountain of youth.
Sam Oliver May 2010
You're everywhere I look now.
Stalking with your eyes,
Your face,
Your voice.

I know she's not you.
But it's so eerie
To meet the same person twice.

In different minds.
In different bodies.

You're just like when we first met.
Now like all those years ago.
Whoever said there's no such thing
As one collective soul?
Sam Oliver May 2010
I am
The heart that flows
No matter how many times
It's been pierced.

I am
The guy who hides his scars
In fear that someone
Misinterprets their meaning.

I am
The boy who tries
To desperately act like a man
No matter how impossible it seems.

I am
The one everyone picks on
For crying when there is
Nothing to cry for.

I am
The one who cries for mankind
As it clings onto
The instruments of its own destruction.

I am
The one who keeps
Old traditions
Old wounds.

I am
Proud to say that
I'm persistent as hell
Despite the opposition.

I am
The soul that burns on
At a time where
Souls have no meaning.

I am
Strong
In the fact that
I am
Weak.

I am
Myself
No matter what
Anyone tries to make me.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Don't be fooled.
I don't woo with words.
I don't woo with actions,
Either.

No, I am too much of a novice.

My intention,
Intended,
To release these tensions
Intensified by the cloud
Of tense living.

In tensions with no spa,
No relief,
No massage,
No pedicure,
No manicure
To calm them.

Ever wondered
Who masseurs
The masseuse?
I don't wonder.
I know.

No one.

Intending
To untensify
The tender
Tendencies of
Tenacious living,
The tenders of
Untended flesh
Relieve your tensions
With no intentions
of receiving intended returns.

They take your tensions
With only intentions
To leave you intense
In the freedom of life.
Meanwhile fragile tensions
Tend to rend them,
Causing trouble and strife.

Feel relieved.
They are in tension,
Don't worry about
Giving attention.

You weren't going to anyway.
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
Its hardly a secret.
I have done more for others
Than has ever been done for me.
While I volunteered to do your deeds,
You sat back in wait,
Offering shallow 'thank you's
When I returned.
A job well done, I guess.

You complain about
A harsh life,
Filled with trouble,
Filled with strife,
While sitting still
Fully tended by me.

Never do you hear me
Moan or whine.
My poems have
That light to shine.

I need not say a word.

My smiles are all fake,
Caused by the trickery
Of these miserable women.
They give me momentary appreciation
For a lifetime of service...

But I am too loyal to ever say no.
Sam Oliver May 2010
It has rained.
Oh, for years, it has rained.
Heaven cries for the murderer.
It cries for the outcast.

I have tried and failed
To the point of nearly giving in,
But the rain reminds me.
'Press on, press on'.

The outcast longs to be needed.
The murderer longs to make up for his sins.
Oh, for years, it has rained.
It has rained.
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
Take Me,
Find a use for me.
It doesn't matter.
All I want
Is to be looked on
With value.
To be given reason
And Purpose.

Make me your shovel,
Make me dig for you.
Make me your sword,
Make me **** for you.
Make me your shield,
Make me guard you.

As your bullet,
I'd pierce for you.
As your grenade,
I'd expel myself for you.

If you need sustenance,
Consume me as would.
My body doesn't matter,
I am expendable,
I am disposable.

I, the throwaway.
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
I love you.
You make me smile,
You compliment my abilities
And you make me feel special,
Worthwhile.
When I'm with you,
I feel ecstatic and joyful.
Anything you want,
I am here to do.

------

I hate myself.
No-one else around,
I tear apart my own features,
I make me feel hideous,
Worthless.
When I'm with myself,
I feel barren and lifeless.
Anything that will bring you back,
I am here to do.
Sam Oliver May 2010
To pardon my French,
Karma is a *****.
A ***** that
Does not exist.

People are never
Rewarded
For good deeds;
Good intentions.
They only suffer
More for them.

Not that
Anything I've done
Was for personal gain.

No.
I am poor.
I am content
To be poor.

My only longing
For monetary gain
Would be to
Support
The ones I love.

My goal in life
Is simple:
Love.

But,
Alas,
Karma is a *****.
A ***** that
Does not exist.

Giving love
Gets hate
In return.

I could argue
That I have gained
More people to
Love,
But that is null.
It is never
Reciprocated.

So why do I love?

I cannot help it.
I'm wired that way.

No man,
No woman,
No tragedy,
No act of God
Can change that.

A man of true value
Remains true to the grave.

Karma is a *****.
It should be put out of its misery.
Sam Oliver May 2010
You hold me in contempt.
Contempt of all the thoughts I've aired
Contempt of all the dreams I've shared
With others.

Not that they shared it in turn with me.
They just took it with a smile and acted as they would
As long as I was of use.

From then on
It was trash to them.
Discarded
Disregarded
Open-hearted wound
Again and again
Torn open
Never hoping it could ever be healed.

No matter how I word it
It seems to make no appeal.
They don't remember a kiss,
They don't remember a word of promise.

Women do what women will.
It makes no sense to me.
They use you for a cheap thrill,
They toss you in the sea.

****'d if you rely or them
****'d if you don't.
If they wish to strangle me,
I guess I'll just nake my throat...
Sam Oliver Dec 2010
No.
I don't want you
Though I want someone.
What I want is someone solid
Someone who will stand like a rock,
By my side forever.

You have done nothing
If not proven your fickleness.
Ever since I was yours
(and maybe even before)
Your habits have been
To fool around on your men.
Now you bear the weight,
For which I have no hate.
I still love you,
And no doubt,
I would love your child, too,
But I cannot commit to someone
Who has done what you have done.

You picked the father,
So why should I bother
When that father
Was another?

Not only that,
But you rejected me years ago.
I relive that day in my mind, you know,
And I cannot escape the damage you have done,
But I also cannot make you think you've won.

In consolation,
I pray you have a beautiful daughter
(or Son).
I hope you'll be good to your
Little one.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Take your heart,
Let it show.
It just gets
Ripped apart
But you can
Not let go

As the parts
Of your core
Fall fast to
The floor and
You find that
Even shattered
To pieces,
Its the same as
Before!

Everyone
Else is looking
For something
Different
And passing
It off as-

Love,
Does it even exist anymore?

Take your soul,
And let it
Shine
For all to
See
That you want-

Love,
As it was meant to be.

Just
Take your heart!
Piece it back
Together
And hide it
Away from
The World
Until they find-

Love,
Just the way it started.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Will you be there
with me
when nobody else will?
Will you be there
to keep me in check?
I think someone has to.

Will you be there
to keep
me safe from myself?
Will you be there
to give me
the courage I don't have?
I think someone has to.

Because I can't do this
All alone.

Will you be there
to assist
when I have no strength left
to keep fighting
for what we both believe in?
I think someone has to.

Will you be there
to help
us hold onto
our ground
when the whole world has tanks
and all we have is eachother?
I think someone has to.

Because,
otherwise,
we're all fighting for nothing.
Sam Oliver May 2010
For all the broken-hearted
I have a message in a bottle.
No words can express heartbreak
A symbol says it best.

No word of comfort
Have I to bring.
No songs of assurance
Have I to sing.

For all the broken-hearted,
I have a message in a bottle.
A rose can help the heartache,
It can put your mind at rest.

Blooms of red
Have I to bring,
And the gift of myself
For you to cling.

For all the broken-hearted,
I have a message in a bottle.
I, too, know of such heartbreak,
Of that which beats inside my chest.
Sam Oliver Apr 2010
Bless You,
The heart that gives me wings.
Bless You,
The one who lets me sing.
Bless You,
For loving this broken thing.
Bless You
For love neverending.

---

Curse You,
Who I never loved at all.
Curse You,
You were destined to fall.
Curse You,
You succumbed to Siren's Call.
Curse You,
You never loved me after all.

---

The First Verse,
I hold dear.
The Second Verse,
I fear.

No curses
Do I hold for anyone.

My loves,
I'll always love.
My hatred,
Does it exist?

Despite the lies
Despite the noise
Despite the misdirection,
My loves will all be missed.

My curses?
Many.
No love,
No appreciation,
No peace.

My blessings?
Few.
But certainly
Not least.

While I have loved you all,
All my days,
I was fooled that you loved me.

That foolish air
Of false love you shared,
Had its effect on me;

A shot to the chest.
I'll never rest
Until real love,
I'll see.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Here is my heart.
Take it,
You wanted it so much.
I hope I never see it again,
Because all it ever causes me
Is grief.

It's not like I deserved any of it.
All I do is hope,
All I do is dream.
I'd be better off without any of it.

It's all because of that beating mass.
Take it.
Do with it as you will.
I'll get used to being a tin man.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Persistence.
The Key to the future.
Knowledge and Strength,
Both mean nothing.

If you become paralyzed,
What will strength do?
If you are scared to the point you can't think,
What will knowledge do?

Persistence.
It knows no bounds.
Can one not be persistent enough to climb mountains?
Can one not be persistent enough to change a nation?

And
Can one not be persistent enough to alter generations?
Sam Oliver May 2010
I will value you more than myself.
My life will be yours.
All that I do will be in consideration of you.
I will trust you till the end.
I will believe in your love.
I will do all within my power to keep us together.

These are my vows.

If I suspect anything of you,
I will reserve judgement.
If you are sorry,
I will forgive.
If you want to leave me,
No longer I will live.

These are my vows...

...

...Where are yours?
Sam Oliver May 2010
It's only natural
To ignore the shy.
Only natural
To close yourself.
It's only natural
To take others'
Insults as truth.

It's only natural
To be wary.
After all,
There are monsters
Out there.
Those monsters are people.

So, I must be unnatural,
to give you attention.
I must be unnatural,
To want you open.
I must be unnatural,
To call you beautiful,
To caress your hands.

I understand.
It's only natural
To ignore my actions
Like I was never here.
Sam Oliver Aug 2010
It's time,
Oh,
It's time,
Gotta make our decision.
Your crime,
Oh,
Your crime,
Is worshiping politicians.

In my mind,
On my mind,
You found yourself a new religion.
Turned 'round,
Rollin' down,
Leaking a poisonous emission;
*******
Broken man,
You got yourself a new religion.

You hold,
Oh,
You hold yourself a worthless bein',
But it's cold,
Oh,
It's cold,
This third degree that you're receivin'...

This time,
This grand ol' time,
You found yourself a new religion.
In your mind,
On your mind,
You put your faith in flawed men.
But you're fine,
You are fine;
You got yourself a new religion.
Sam Oliver May 2010
Nobody Cares
anymore.
Nobody Cares
about my feelings.

I wouldn't expect Anybody to.

Nobody Thinks
I am worth their time.
Nobody Thinks
That my words matter.
Nobody Thinks
I have a great mind.

And, Nobody Thinks
I can make anything right.
Nobody Thinks
I have a romantic bone in my body.
Nobody Thinks
I can sweep them off their feet.

Three cheers to Nobody, whoever they are.

Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for myself.
Nobody Thinks
I can stand up for my friends.
Nobody Loves
the way I sit by myself, secluded.
Nobody Loves
the way that I write my feelings,
rather than lash out in anger.

I don't love Nobody.

But, Nobody sure seems to love me.
Sam Oliver Jan 2011
Spill it all.
Let her know
Every gory detail.
Bleed it out
And let it flow.
It's you
She should know
All about.

Breathe through bile,
Gasp for the air
To form words.
Become open-hearted
And let no surgeon
Stitch you back together
Until she knows your veins.

She'll walk away.
You can spill your guts
All you want.
The people will just
Stop
Stare
And call a clean up crew.
Sam Oliver Jul 2010
Hums of swinging blades and axes,
Wailing of voices,
Ricochets of guns.
Secrets whispered in private,
Declamation exclaimed in public,
Hymns sung,
Words spoken.
People are the weapon.
We must not doubt ourselves.
All conflict,
No matter the position,
Comes from a common source.
People are the weapons.
All else, extensions-
Of the arm,
Of the leg,
Of the mind,
Of the heart;
All extensions of the person.
By extension,
A person is an extension
Of the people.
Let the power of the individual
Never lie unknown,
For in one person
Is the concentrated power
Of everyone.
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