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BLitZeD Feb 2016
EG TEN /V.S/ BLitZ3D

ROUND 1

EG TEN
For the second time around, I won't be too gentle.// You turds can't rhyme for *****, soft as a noodle.// Get rid of that shirt, Wordman, do us a favor.// It ain't bad at all, its just, one size too little.// Ill break you fools in half, straw snapping like a scarecrow// Cowardly lion come out, Monster Smashed you innuendo.// The reason why you got passed by the first time around// Like a girl post some pix up, cut my **** in half, now u goin down// You and Wordman teams up, who cares! a pair of freakin clowns//

BLitZ3D
let um start off first, either way ur a representation of a man in a hearse /hurt um real bad n rubbed his face in the dirt/the pics that I posted was just a ***** in a skirt/sskkirrt! on this *****, like who you ****** with nerd?/ that's a ****** sweater what u talkin bout shirt?/ an what exactly do you think you rhymed off ****?/ ******* from the start, pulled out and drove straight into the curb/ Asian drivers man, they'll never ****** learn/ a coward vs a lion I guess my warning wasn't herd/ why'd you delete the first battle? you coulda reread my words/ then you'd probly remember to go again would be absurd/ but everyone loves a under dog, makes emotion go reverse/ cause then when you go under dog , the wears not even worse/ an no one teamed up on you,/ I tagged in and hulk Hogan lumped a few/ American Dream, elbow jumped at you,/ then to your defense, in ran gorilla monsoon/ the way I see it, the joker popped both of you,/ a heist on ur thread but that's just my point of view./ sights locked retical red, not a sound with the front mount/ knights drop, clown with a crown, and a jester in bed./ leave um slumped out/ /roar/ I messed with his head/ take my advice and this cypher ...just jump out

Round 2

EG TEN
Let um start off first? Now what the **** was that?// Your no king of the jungle, but a little ***** cat!// A blissful of zits in your face a sign disgusting// BlitZed does not show off his face an ugly duckling// My rhyme is in verse, so fresh with multiple gears on my Hearse// You can't spit for *****, so your *** be going in reverse// A fan of hulkamania? That **** ain't real brotha!.// I bet your next line would be "Hakuna Matata!// You ain't no **** Mufasa, your like that fool Scar hangin out With them ugly *** Hyena// I laugh at you BlitZed, I ******, I flip the script with my skills// Your elbow dropped not fast enough a straight kick up your chest!// This is SPARTA!!!! So jump on out! off to the next round// Welcome to the Writer's Creed, A true MC battleground!//

BLitZ3D
if this is Sparta then ***** I'm Gannicus,/ two swords in my hand while u attack with some shallow ****/ your **** right I'm scar and ull still bow down to this/ u wont get to far hyenas surround in the mist/ Hakuna Matata but theres reason to worry kid/ shoot um point blank an laugh as he say the dots are blury miss/ from his stomach out leaks guts an curry strips/ no lines to connect, his souls in a hurry, drips,/ out his mouth like his mom as she dines in nutty bliss/ bust um quick like his dad, his sister we both miss/ a cute little thing, deaf dumb n blind, snitch/ I think not, i broke her fingers, a tight grip/ dropped her leg and screamed Hogan wins/ layed on top of her and counted to three/ donkey punched that ***** in the head an continued to proceed/ so ask her how much I give a **** about writers creed //

ROUND 3

EG TEN
You claim to be a Marvel-Super-Villain-God-Like / If you are Galactus" I'm Lactose - Bacilli / Fermented like Lactic Acids what I spit!/ A genus of original but your just a make belief/ BlitZed please! step it ^ up a bit higher/ Your dealing with an oldskool underground ****** / None of that Kindergarten *****' of entry level / My words may be shallow but yet sharp as a Razor / Your write- wrist slice the veins blood burst just like a geyser / My word plays undefeated so try a little Monster / I sMashed your Baked Potatoe with chives a little butter / On side some bits of bacon a Cub is now a Lion / If you don't understand, im at work im eating Lunch / Im on break and wasted half of my time you little punk/ But its cool It's all in fun and that's what its all about / In a place full of infected A cesspool full of talent / Respect to my opponent a true Warrior of Poets / A Monster Mash Creator, A Master of Salvation / The bad *** Mr. BlitZed, Will continue this ***** later-/ Here at Writer's Creed, or where ever else you pleased/

BLitZ3D
A mutant, a radioactive contusion./My ***, gave it gas, now im ******* moving./Onto the end, the finish line, a ******* shoe in./Im new an, your old news, news i knew and /screws im loosing, as we pretend this battle im loosing, wrap it up with a few loose ends, /confusing, a thriving city, up an left it in ruins./Black cloaked, hooded druid, IV fluids, /Gat broke, firing pin, out i chewed it, trigger squeezed now, told you id do it./Ten teeth marks on the barrel, yea EG blew it./Face on some blue ****, stiff Elmers glue tip, /sticky grip, stick um up, Richy Rich, Jackson upper cuts, a Rampage, no *****./Bomb on the stage, chickens with no cluck./Took a bomb on stage, chicken heads, my ***** well ******./Salmonella poisoning, chocked the chicken, she likes it real rough. /In an out, left and right, my blade keeps the feathers well plucked. /Goose and a swan, I recognize no duck, bad luck, body covered up in the back of the truck./One G, no UN, i see, just me..no pun./Mission complete, no fun, grey skies, trust me, no sun.. rains not done. /Bars run from bars, bring the heavens down from the stars, impacts bombard/even from behind bars locked cars explode far, gorilla tactics, no holds bared, reload the AR/Re-roll a new cigar, as i retold, another page from Scar/12 bubbles Gage the contents of this unmarked mason jar./I know your popping some corny something, but i wasn't listening./Busy kicking it with Popcorn Sutton, drinking an smoking **** in the kitchen./These lines must be glitching, space-time the fabrics ripping./Physics are ******, i need a new physician./Watch as my feet move, roots grew planted in a quantum position./Like Groot, stomp um like a twig, raging tunnel vision./A ton of incisions, a gun mixed with questionable decisions. /A life for a life, changes nothing, for both sides the death penalty still glistens./the only difference is the same as this blunt. *****, BLitZ3D is still hitting. /Next time i roar a warning make sure you ******* listen... /
battle?
Im already bored with you
.....
I pulled a gun
And a sword you drew
BLitZeD Feb 2016
I'm quick at the wrist.
A flick of that ****
You wake in abyss.
Another reality like Oculus Rift.
~Optimus BLitZeD~
Black Ops, buy from black shops, optimal risks.
Red dot on bad cops, interchangeable clips .
Turtle shells on roof tops, Splinter-cell capable, slips
In undetected. 50 cal. hits that face and just rips
Past skin, bone, and cartilage to the brain stem in bits.
Cartridges plus marksmanship equal carnage, be ****** if he lives.
Walk up with a raptor claw and stick the blade in his ribs.
Zigzag pattern, give the pastor a call, split um down to the hips.
Zig Zags, smoking green pastures, a  blunt and a spliff.
Deceptively a cybernetic artist of the con, rearranges and shifts.
Fall of Cybertron, with Nike's on, im a hyper ROM with no grip.
I'm ill. No face. Can't feel it.  I'm sick.
Your witnessing the transcendence of
~Optimus BLitZeD~
http://www.writerscafe.org/blitzed
King Panda  Oct 2015
blitzed out
King Panda Oct 2015
I broke up with you last night
because it is my duty to
go lana del rey ghost hunting
in the target parking lot
please
don’t take this personally
LDuler  Mar 2013
Sweet Debauchery
LDuler Mar 2013
Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true
There were kids
Sitting in the soft night's semicircle
Encased in a haze of smoke
The darkness enfolding them in a cloak
Of all mysterious things nocturnal
Making it all eternal
A superficial feeling of found truth
A white aura of blazing youth
Conquering the darkness with the fiery tips of lit joints
Puffing chimeras and golden illusions
Things left unsaid yet lead not to confusion
The substance and the glowing friends
Seems to fix everything and make ineffable amends
Lends them some heightened receptivity
With some dazzling sensitivity
To the dizzy promises of life
        *
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you
There was blue bottles and red cups
Sloshing full of 21st century ambrosia
Every moment of the night
Is doused in glowing star-light
Different rooms, dark places
Different shadows, similar faces
        
Lots of people talk and few of them know
There was music softly ebbing and weaving its way to us
      
Soul of a woman was created below
Gleaming sequined pillows
Curtains ebbing in delicate billows
That no amount of reality could ever harden
In the black garden
Amidst the tangy, acrid scent
Boys and girls came and went
Among the soughs and the ***** and the gleaming stars
We are young; ***** replaces wine, blunts replace cigars
      
You hurt and abuse tellin' all of your lies
An adagio of whispers travels with a florid vibration
Waves of words, swirls of conversation
High kids trying to touch
What has never been tangible
     
Run around sweet baby, Lord how they hypnotize
These kids linger on towering stools and lush couches
Leaning back with careless slouches
Or wander back and forth
Breathing dreams like air
     
Sweet little baby, I don't know where you've been
An elusive rhythm throbs in the humid atmosphere
Fragments of lost words hover on drunken lips
A stirring warmth flows
From bodies spilled together
Snuggled under a blanket of stars
      
Gonna love you baby, here I come again
Hands take hold of hands
And fingers tightly interlace
Throbbing softly with fluctuating warmth
The room is electric, filled with tiny flowing currents
      
Try to love you baby, but you push me away
In this wake of boozed up elations
All sorrows are aborted, all conscience is obliterated
Blitzed kisses are exchanged, transitory enchanted moments
Bemused nudges and tender embraces
Arms around shoulders, heads resting drowsily
All of this immediate and forever
        
Don't know where you're goin', only know just where you've been
And the tipsy, blissfully mindless joy of youth
Gives them bleary yet satisfactory hints of the unreality of reality
        
Sweet little baby, I want you again
The teens are flickering in and out of consciousness like befuddled fireflies
The sober ones roam the rooms, drifting haphazardly about
Simultaneously enchanted, bewildered, and repelled
By the seemingly inexhaustible variety of drunken fun,
The ****, adventurous mood of the night
       
Been dazed and confused for so long, it's not true**
We are all so young
So young and dipped in the dust of folly
And our laughs contain a hint of melancholy
The magic of nights like these,
When the spell of mortality is broken,
Eludes us all,
Yet we cling to them
Like moths to a flame.
Nights like these dig deep in the stuff of the soul
But there is still much to be learned
lol how to make a drunken high school party sound enchanted and mystic
Tony Luxton Nov 2015
They huddle in the cold damp darkness
grateful for the sheltering sandstone
shuddering at each echoing blast
a remorseless dull ache
like their meagre rations
eyelids shutting wrinkling between attacks
seeking peace and inner sleepless solace.

'Them docks is taking a pasting.'
'Me Dad works there.'

Another attack, tunnels rumble
evoking century old echoes
of rusty trundling drum-line wagons
bearing sandstone blocks to build the docks
now being blitzed blighting the night sky.

The morning brings a dusty disquiet.
Merseyside emerges curses soldiers on.
BLitZeD  Feb 2016
Ang3l Trilogy
BLitZeD Feb 2016
BIRTH OF AN ANG3L

To keep it real "G"
Any ***** can get it,
I be that ***** that you see dog rocking the fitted.
Sitting with a bottle just chilling an sipping,
I don't give a **** about you,
but ya *****, ya best believe, that I will ******* hit it.
The coke, the ****, the pills, everybody knows that I will ******* flip it.
Ask your hommies dog, they'll tell you just how I kick it,
And when it comes to the gat,
you know imma be the first ***** to load that clip in.
**** that **** back, fire one round ,aim just sick with it.
Leave you on the ground twitching,
With your jaw just spitted and ya dome just dripping.
So step the **** back ******,
Its ******* like you that keep my trigger finger itching.
//
An you know that bullets got so much pull to it your bound to get hit.
One in the front an one to blow your back out a bit, *****.
* BLitZ3D *
Hit the ground so you don't get slumped.
because when you hear that sound, it means the 12 gauge is pumped.
Double barrel get you buried, early funeral.
**** it,
Get the students too,
Columbine,
Watch them run an hide.
Pray to the sky just to find out your GoD is a lie.
Switch that G to an A and you got a ******* Angel inside.
Ferocity of a Bangle with stripes.
50 cal. the velocity's tight.
Once you in sight, ain't no point for resistance,
Despite the distance there is no missing the extinction of your existence.
For instance,
Night terrors caused by night vision make insurgents split second decisions clouded by thought of them envisioning my ballistics incisions coloring there face crimson.
While explosive rounds burn there repulsive frowns up-the-****-side-down.
Scramble to keep there insides in,
but burn from the inside out.
Outcomes always vertical,
Bodies buried down

STORY OF AN ANG3L

He can catch it,
Steel from the ratchet,
Trim his top, **** a tomahawk, Gimme a hatchet,
Maybe a rusty ax, Some gas, And a box of matches,
Add in a Jason mask an ill show you some sad ****.
This is the death of another tag,
Tag ripped
like a soul from a body, sooo...

I'm no longer a SoLDjA,
No longer a GHOSt,
Not even BLitZ3D,
This is OM3Ga AGG3L0s,

Grab the bull by the horns because I got horns like a bull.
Just missing the right side, it was ripped from my skull.
I bear the scares of a warrior, earned in full.
If the horn ain't enough, check the bent up halo.
I play 4 both sides , Stand tall and Creep low.
Quick to burn threw ya, an slow smoking a O.
Always been Alpha, I liked to play that part.
Now i'm out-casted, a choice made in my heart,
Because if u think for a second that bravos made a move,
You didn't stand  a chance from the start.
Every things been planned out.
I dug my own grave an covered it with a ******* tarp,
Only move your making is one into a trap,
Jeronomo
a precaution, to cover my tracks.
A hunter cant hunt whats hunting him back.
The classic story of how opposites attract.

An when your attacked,
Like a zombie to a Hashin,
A cat to a rat,
A bat to a rat.
A gangster with a bat to a rat,
22. through the black to land in the back of the rats back for ratting behind your back like a rat,
Call that echo location,
An that rat bagged up in the trash, dispatched naked to an undisclosed destination

DEATH OF AN ANG3L**

I'm Isis
Sike kid
I'm just righteous
All through the night my minds like this
I'm physic
That's right *****
Sights ****
See me within, the lights lit ,
BLitZeD in bliss
Omegas in the mist
Azrael in chains
But lets be real, there all one in the same
Yes, im sane, let me explain
One is like the Joker,
A pocket full of knifes,
The others like Bain
When he beat the **** out of the Dark Knight
Omega is the knife, the moment when Batman looses his life
Omega is the mask,  that regulates the gas just right
Azrael pushes the blade deep from the shade
The gas from within, he causes the haze
BLitZeD is the player, the one this game don't phase
The one that walks in like its nothing and sets the bomb under the stage
Three pieces to a puzzle, together they make the forth
Not until they come as one do you see who really holds the pitch fork
Death Of an Angel,
Take those words and contort
Deepsha  Jul 2012
Unsighted
Deepsha Jul 2012
He burnt away my eyes,
he said it would make it much easier,
to beg, so I traded it for fear.

I was a little above five, wandering,
on streets a motley of black,
may be not, but my eyes couldn't distinguish the lack.

People would throw coins into my glass,
burnt eyes led to anticipated pitying,
towards the miniaturised cauldron of the dire I lived in.

I went to my master’s garage during my perceived evenings,
my hands felt the swerves of cars and formed shapes in my mind,
and before I departed, I would leave my glass behind.

Blitzed, he would hit me at times I didn’t collect enough,
I wouldn’t run away, the known seemed less horryifying,
than to trip against invisible, in the trying.

I survived each day, stayed thankful for life,
unfair as it may seem, my other senses were in poise,
and I learnt to see through reflections of noise.

He took away my eyes, my dreams stayed invincible,
so I left into a world, incognito,
my master waited for me that night, never to discover though.

I couldn’t steal, so I continued to beg,
I hitchhiked to stores, for a loaf of bread,
but God resolved to bless me with a stranger, instead.

He put me to work, for food and shelter,
little did I know my pay was in kind,
the kind was love, against everything left behind.

Sometimes he read to me, stories with happy endings,
he bid me goodnight before he would move on,
a word I recently learnt, to not be an oxymoron.

He taught me to read in braille,
being blind is no excuse he adjudged to me,
he couldn’t return my sight, so a vision he gave me.

Every night I cried myself to sleep,
for the choking in my throat helped me to believe,
believe in my angel disguised, so I cried myself to sleep.

He gave me fortitude against the vice,
he gave me words, and the power it imbibed,
and he taught me to live, when I just survived.
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
. and i am only ascribed, a relevant nation status, within the individual, by only having to "enjoy" an exile... back, "home": merging into an NPC-meme, so not the mahjong solitaire acronym "game"? you know: PSCAPE-complete, NP-complete... NP-C? NP-complete problems? nondeterministic polynomial time? guess i was the only dumb 'un to self-teach myself to play mahjong solitaire... i guess that's not expected to be hard... hey: here's the map, you figure it out.

the current climate of a crescendo
of events...

****...
        i can't say maine ****:
even though i own two cats
of that breed...

it's all...  (sniff sniff):
very much like being back
in a catholic high school,
of a highly irish choice
of breed area
of outlier "london"...

       with black girls...
putting vaseline cream
into their hair,
to keep the frizz out...
or the afro...
whichever...

     getting into cat-fights
with each other
and some outlier white girls...
stephanie:
oh i remember stephanie...
while the "other"
time i learned what
a "kit-kat" was...
   lucy...
with ambitions to become
a stripper...

    "kit-kat":
  one hand, does a four-finger
*******...

but the fact that the current
climate
doesn't allow dialectics?
i mean: debate,
without all the rhetorical
******* of:
pre-staged "events"?

i take two beers,
or three,
   a packet of cigarettes...
spot a park bench,
sit on it,
and...
              wait...
some old timer is bound
to chat me up...
hardly complaining
about me drinking in
public,
i excuse myself,
asking him:
is it o.k. if i light a
cigarette?
  no complaints...
he might just come
back with
a rayleigh bicycle...
green...
******* plush specimen
from...
  i'm guessing the 1950s...
and then we'd juggle...
opinions...
because opinions
are not debated...
not in a dialectic environment...
juggle...
two clowns: first pucker
to the punch of a smacker
of a pair of lips of a woman...

and you know...
there would be this...
aura of a whispering silence...
like...
somone was listening...
god... ****: perhaps god...

and we'd sit there...
spewing opinion after
opinion,
   and we'd talk about bicycles,
about his grandchildren's
supposed autism,
and i'd try to comfort him
saying: just give them some time...

but the pop media doesn't
do that, does it?
dialectics on a park bench
is as alien to pop media
as seeing a ******* ****
saucer, all phosphoresent
in the night sky...
   like: neon a. zero...
neon a. zero
  to b. abide blackout,
come in c.
c. piccadilly circus
                             neon out...

i was saying something:
yeah, i was:
never pity the drunk...
he'll just turn inside out and
tell you:

   'the best poached eggs
i ever made... were...
when i was blitzed...
  plastered...
  *******: goo....   goo'n:
gone...
but the perfect poached
eggs...
        yeah yeah...
whrill in a movement
for a tornado,
drip some white vinegar...
  drop... pouch you
limbless chicky-coco-clock-in!'

or... that what i expected
from... not taking
boxing lessons...
did about 3 lessons in martial
arts...
was kicked in the *******
by the teacher...
so i flunked...
  **** to that sort of "club"
of self-defense...
you kick me in the *****,
i kick out your ego...
and thought?
  hell...
         either a stephen king
novel
       or a shot from a shotgun...

honest to god,
i once asked an afro-saxon
if i could touch his hair...
guess what?
  i touched it...
   ooh...
goose feathers...
they would really replace
goose feathers with
afros...
  it's like:
the engineering
concept that went into
springs
of cars?
    ever touch an afro?
cushions...
  i'm feeding goose feather
stuffed pillows...
or springs on both
the bed,
   or a car,
or any variant form of
transportation...

i prayed for chop-sticks,
instead...
they gave me drum-sticks...
but no drum...
they said:
   air-drum...
  ****... that's a tough gig...
air-guitar is once thing...
but air-drum?

i had to start thinking
about my inherent
physical "disability"
concerning the *******
as...
   leech...
  or  yiddish:
     schmuck...
       and... i went to the elders
and they...
didn't expect i was
handed down the script
of william burrough...

imagine...
   a world...
where there was "excess" skin...
associated with the ****...
like... a floral pattern,
protruding out,
and not in...
   so i said:
  sleeve off, or sleeve on?
am i to **** some maiden
or simply do some
jamaican recipe replica
of a *******?

you sure eve of eden
confused the phallus
with a serpent...
or more... a mushroom?
well... if you circumcise
the ******...
that's more a mushroom
than some reptilian
                   artifact, no?

well... we're not going
to have a dialectical spectacle
with the way we're going,
are we?
  i'm juggling opinions,
midly drunk,
with some elder,
bicycles,
the weather, seasons,
grandchildren and autism...
and on the center
stage...

              ONLY RHETORIC
ALLOWED...
       i'm as ugly as Socrates
inside and out...
at this point,
at this point: inside and out...
so...
  if only i was dyslexic
akin to the modern and ancient
greek standards of
not having
the capacity to write...

        writing has become
a famine of conversation...
i don't want to speak because
i chose the medium of writing...
i like ballet...
  i also like watching someone
play the piano...
and then i watch myself
itch away at a keyboard
of, thus, arranged letters.
Jonny Angel May 2014
I confess,
I got blitzed on whiskey
& she might have eaten a worm,
but what happened next
was just a blur.

Elbows and derrieres,
the fragrance of lilac,
a taste of succulent waters,
granite & pewter.

A bit of fine red lace,
her smiling face,
traces of smoke lingering
from salty breath,
her sweating sun.

A running fan &
moving crescent moon,
an electric band
crooning, "Ramble On"
with an etched gremlin
smiling,
his arms outstretched,
reciting,
"I Wuv You's"
above the
pretty waxed nest.

I confess,
I got blitzed on whiskey
& I swear she ate the worm.
Charlie Prince Jul 2012
I am wading out knee deep into the evening's drinks.
I let my eyeballs take a dip as my wallet plays the breaker.
You'd think the woman had tourettes the way she tries to wink.
She flirts no better than the sisters who oft walk god's acre.

Maestro, another!

A black suit hammers ritzy tusks somewhere across the bar.
The waves upon the wires lap across my eardrum's shore.
My lonely, daydream doll is finally called off from afar.
I'm far too low and far too blitzed to enjoy another bore.

Maestro, another!

When I recall how we met, I transubstantiate my veins
with hopes to find a fertile mound to plough to rude degrees.
Too many furrows to recall, but still your name remains.
So, still I hunt for lonely moths who dance beneath marquees.

Maestro, another!

Why does every truth align with all the stars at night
only to scatter just as broken glass when morning breaks?
Every wholesome oath I swear to cherish all my life
melts with every dewdrop my lawn's unkept blades shake.
William Robbins Sep 2015
Passing stream of neon light
A multi colored dream.
Techno night
An energy fight.
All I see is beams.
Underground
Ravers, dance
Blitzed on LSD.
To escape robotic wits, through transcendental hits, is
  trading true life for a dream.  
Flashing signs
Outshine the sky
But stars sparkle bright in high minded eyes.
Disco boogeymen twinkle the streets
And Metropolis glistens.
There's music in the background
From a small electronic boutique
Between a novelty store, and a smoke shop
That house a strange and rare mystique.


On a city night, I'm looking across a busy street, and I feel the most powerful of feelings. In awe, all around, I see the fantasies of generations before us. The future itself, as it slowly descends.
Oskar Erikson Feb 2018
put my poems
into a blender
to
swallow
my pride.
Sierra Wilmot Nov 2013
I gazed up
as I heard a loud roar,
saw a light shining through two
sliding doors.

Hovering above me
was a spaceship in flight
Is this real?
Is this real life?

I started to feel
my feet leave the ground,
stunned and confused
I fought the urge to
look down.

No one near
no one to hear me scream,
I let the force pull me through
this bright shining beam.

As I ascended into a large metal
room
danger, I didn't assume

There was a man
or at least that's what appeared
that's the costume
I suppose he volunteered

A chair rose below me,
and scooped me in
quickly I felt my
thoughts and feelings begin
to spin.

The alien too
now sat in a chair
and he put his hands in his lap
as if to say a prayer

Graciously he opened reassuring my thoughts
and slowly my stomach was empty of knots



I felt at peace
this ship it was kind
I felt my mind
begin to unwind

A conversation he said
thats all I seek
your planet to us,
it seems so unique
we are already
thrown by your fascinating physique

Traveling is where we've been
all of the galaxy
we have been within.

We need a place
to stop and rest
can you tell us why Earth
is the best.

Wondering why me?
Sitting here without a clue
I began to give him Earth's debut.

You see I come from a place
full of life,
oceans, mountains, rivers and love
but not all days
have all of the above
I mean sort of
it depends on who you are
nature is there
and happiness lives
but it matters on your perspective
and how you give.
Earth is selfish
and Earth is kind
but the majority are concerned with
what they can call “mine.”

We have the resources for growth
and knowledge
I myself am in college
but these resources
you must first
acknowledge
and then
work to shape
in your mind
deep in
your heart
from the inside
the peace Earth has
in you resides
but most people are stuck on the outside

This place can bring you joy
but like a storm
can destroy

we cherish
family, friends
and laughter
we dream of getting
our happily ever after
only to fight over where we will go
like “here after.”
We argue over religion, origin, and creator
over which team, athlete or place
is greater

We have war
disease
killing and hate
pain in the world
that not even the best medicine can sedate.

But deep down
we are all wired by love
so underneath all the mess
is something to be proud of
something you will be happy to meet
a feeling that will make you feel
complete.
Earth is love
full of compassion
truth and fun
you just have to be a visitor
that can see the beauty
under the sun.

He gazed at me
and reached out his hand
shaking mine
he said, I understand.
You,  come from a wonderful
land.
That my planet
was a place he'd like to see
from oceans to mountains
and the space in-between.

He said in his travels
he'd learned a great deal
but most important
is to find your own
truth that is real.

We can't listen
to others and soak in what they say
changing and making you different
by day.

We can learn
we can grow
guidance by others won't be a foe

Optimism is key
acceptance,
awareness
and the ability to be...
free.
To let your soul soar
through every feeling
thought and more.
Open every door
live this life
and seek to be better
be the best you
and then Earth to
will be better.

Love, love, love just like you say,
everyday, close up and far away.

Like words carved in stone
I tattooed his words in my brain
in my head they are stained
to remain
for the rest of my days.

Reading my mind
he smiled and said,
it was so nice to speak with you
my name is Ted.
Sierra, I smiled
as my chair slowly sunk
and I rose to my feet.
The door slid open and my heart
skipped a beat
he waved as I descended and I knowingly smiled
said he'd come find me one day
after he explored for a while.
I agreed and wished him the best
and before I knew it
my stomachs plummet was the test
as I started down
feeling the gravity
draw me to the ground.

I looked up as the ship
blitzed away
off into the galaxy
far far away
I looked around and walked back towards
my car
shaking my head
gazing out far.

Was that real
I feel so....
so enriched
like me and a movies
plots where just switched

I knew in that moment
after my decent
100 percent
that the content
that I learned
would forever stay with me, push me to yearn.
That I would share these teachings
for everyone to learn.
In each and every way
and to always
walk in love
every day.

-Sierra Wilmot

— The End —