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612 · Nov 2015
First world
Samuel Duggan Nov 2015
I need to stand for one thing,
What I feel comfortable doing,
Even if it means *******,
With everything that is me,
Free,
But not really,
Because beyond free,
I am romantically,
Impeded,
Stampeded by my inability,
Too see rationally,
How being monogamous,
Really doesn't fit me,
*** sets me free,
But needy me,
Makes what matters,
Not the sexuality,
But the feeling of how sickly,
Couples make me feel,
Out of jealousy,
How quickly,
I find excuses when the pressure begins to peel,
Away at the petty squabbles,
Between my girl and I,
About silly ****,
That doesn't matter but,
I see fit,
To make a point,
Because I wanna be right,
My logic ain't tight,
But in a fight,
Mind meets logic,
Mind wins,
Logic in practice,
Means my body sins,
Face grins,
But inside,
No smiles,
Inner-conflict,
Means I never win,
Un-anxious happiness,
Reality is thin,
Don't spin,
If I spin,
My mind might implode,
Exploding would be a release,
From all the ******* emotional grease,
Splattered onto the canvas,
It would tell of a man,
With very few ways to express,
What he misses,
All this grief,
Manifested in a weird,
Belief that it's him that ill-fitted,
Cultural guilt for being white,
Not particularly wanted to make a girlfriend a wife,
The fact he has got a bit too good a life,
And that he stills wants something more,
In spite of these gripes,
He tries to smile,

His emotional *****,
Doesn't sit well against a backdrop of real poverty,
Let's face it,
He's never really known strife,
He knows this,
The fact his first property,
Will most likely be ten times the size,
Of what their lives work,
Can fund,
Properly,
I see that it's all because their born black,
Or just dark,
Pasty-white,
Is synonymous with not having to properly having to put up a fight,
Carry water for miles,
See slaughter of childs,
Work in the fields,
Travel for miles,
To find work,
That most likely isn't even there,
They don't exist,
They are like societies cyst,
A guilty truth we can't sweat,

You will not forget,

How we have it so good,
Is a basis of poverty having to exist,
For us to be free from stress,
Real stress,
Take a second and think,
For them to succeed,
They have to get educated,
Free themselves from third-world stink,
Segregate from what they've come,
Forget the filth,
From what they begun,
I get spun,
From what segregation can become,
Western-bubble,
Won't burst,
Unless we make it,
Because of a healthy thirst,
For justice,
Most us haven't sussed this,
Yet,
But we learn,
We should regret our privilege,
Because at the end of the day,
What did we do to earn it?
Our forefathers didn't earn it,
They took it,
Exploited the weak,
They didn't like it,
They burnt it,
We live in misconception,
That capitalism works,
Keep making gradual changes,
Maybe one day,
They'll be less worse off,
Well,

I call *******,
Capitalism doesn't work,
It works for us,
Why wouldn't they wanna rip us off,
We come to their countries,
Showing off the money,
They will never earn,
Of course their gonna exploit our trust,
We haven't earned,
The right to be morally outraged,
We have been ripping off the third-world for hundreds of years,
When they where still hunting with spears,
We where blueprinting a system,
Of which one of it's worst fears,
Are a population with a conscience,
Hence charities,
The strongest example of capitalism fear,
Experienced and solved,
Via donation,

You think you're doing enough?
Never fear,
You're not alone,
Lot's of good people cheat themselves,
Thinking that supplying a stone,
Will build a wall,
In fact we are all fools,
Every single one of us is cruel,
With no evil intent,
Just participation in a machine,
That let's only the west dream....
420 · Nov 2015
Love
Samuel Duggan Nov 2015
A poem about love.

The thought of a woman,
A beautiful,
Wonderful omen,
Of the fact I don't have to be alone,
I go prone in,
The delicate world of dating,
The thought of you,
Making,
The tone,
I use soft,
When I'm alone,
My dreams of no more solitude,
No longer to far aloft,

But listen,
Whilst I watch your beautiful eyes glisten,
Wishing my eyes where opposite,
Staring deeply darkly into them,
Lips entwined,
Personality shines,
My anxiety,
Far from mind,
Wanna say,
I can find,
A time,
When I can say I love you,
Without feeling framed,
By the constricting lovers mind,
A man in love,
Can find the time,
To struggle,
In new ways when,
He no longer,
Needs to wonder,
Why his heart keeps feeding,
His mind with fodder,
For the fantasy of two lives combined,

It doesn't even have to last,
It will still be part of your past,
A memory to cherish,
A time when the grass,
Was always greener,
Something to remember,
When the last time you ******,
Wasn't meant to last,
When your heart is on an emotional fast,
When you can't wait,
To feel again that,
When you are not with her,
Every second in her company,
Is a memory that will forever last,


There is so much needed to say,
In that,
I love you kinda way,
Let's face it,
We both win,
From letting "us" begin.
I wrote this when I was struggling with yet another situation, where I was dating someone that made me anxious. I get anxious whenever it isn't stupidly clear someone likes me.
286 · Nov 2015
Smile and some confusion
Samuel Duggan Nov 2015
You smile,
Your lips,
Your unreadable flips,
Of tongue,
You're a bit too young,
But the fact I can't resist,
Makes me spun,
I'm undone every time,
You bring out my nearly,
Forgotten insecurity,
It's not fun,
But the smile,
Makes me melt,
Being stung,
Is worth everything,
Maybe I'm reading too deep,
Maybe you're shy,
Maybe you're feelings aren't deep,
After three dates ,

They shouldn't be,

I shouldn't be feeling,
Like a heap of ****,
Every time my vocal admiration,
Isn't returned,
If it wasn't suicide,
I'd just ask,
But true to form,
Anything that might possibly last,
Has to stay a gamble,
Every awkward moment,
Playing along to a lonely hearts ensemble,

I fumble,
Insecurity making me,
Tumble,
Over,
Everything I built up,
My heart doesn't give a ****,
All the work,
I'm undoing,
I stumble,
I mumble,
Uttering stupid comments,
When asked I can't stand for,
My wanting grumbles,
As I lead myself,
Into an all to familiar,

Rut,
I strut,
Around pretending to be confident,
But,
In my gut,
I'm an insecure little boy,
Trapped in the world where,
It's all about being cool,
Lest you don't want to end up a toy,
Of someones game,
Craving what makes the framework,
Of "how a man should pull",
It's the same every time,
I try,
To pry,
My way into the world of dating,

But no matter,
Why,
I always end up,
In the same pigs sty,
Of failed attempts,
At finding the former,
Of you and I......

— The End —