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“Top of the Morning to ‘Yuh, Guv’nuh.”*

Oh, to be father of a
Cockney flower girl,
To be Eliza Doolittle’s
Dear old Dad,
Alfred P. of that surname.
Oh, to be a cockney dustman,
On this fine day,
Another fine day in
Northern New Mexico, as I
Sell my daughter to
‘Enery Iggins, or
Some equivalent
Princeton poofter.
I am Rhett Butler,
Daring blockade-runner,
Persona –non-grata*
For any decent
Family—including my own,
Charleston Carolina.
In time, I crave
Social acceptance for
Bonnie Blue—my ill fated
Would-be equestrian offspring;
I surrender my daughter to the
Upper Class.
jeffrey robin Apr 2013
Analytically
----
The ENERGY!
.
You!

To be HERE!
---
Oh for Christ sake!

SHOW A LITTLE  RESPECT!
---
No matter what you may think of yourself
YOU ARE NOT just some **** shat out by something!
--
ALL THAT ENERY-------!
>>>>>and lo!>>>YOU appear!
-
Kinda -----neat,huh?
------special
--
SURE!
---
So
--
**** it up
-
Ain't no reason
To let yourself go to
Hell
..
And throw the precious gift
Away!
Vladimir s Krebs Nov 2015
what have i done. my dreams have been silent.  where do i stand when i breath in fire. aner takes all my enery that  i requier.
nothing makes sence when i cant tell if your liying to me.

i cant even open my eyes for how much im tired. all the weight on me. sufficating me cant you see i run away cause you wont listen to me.

only music have never lied. i have tryed to reach out to you.

but im tired of you not caring so i set this wold on fire
my lungs fill with tirer

whats the last thing is i breath out fire with your name on my list
i found out that sing spoken poetry is the way to go when you have writers block
nooneknoes  Oct 2018
thanks
nooneknoes Oct 2018
thanks for all the suporrt in my dms ive been tired im not ignoring you all im reading them i just dont have much enery to write much back so i love you all and thanks so much
Rhiannon  Mar 2018
pain of words
Rhiannon Mar 2018
You argued
you shouted
I fought back
and you call me the coward?

why do we choose to hurt
when we can decide to heal
why do you have to break my smile
with that mocking laugh

what affects me
actaully affects you more
you choose painful words
when you could choose happy ones

you say you can't help it
give up on yourself
give up on me
before you even tried

words can help
words can hurt
words can heal
words can break

you know I'm not good at using words
the words you so much adore
the one you used to write story's with
the ones which made you happy

That pure smile you once had
that enery who knows from where
it is now locked deep
locked deep and tortured

we hurt each other
I tried my best to stop
maybe you did too
but we were both too stubborn.

our words won't reach
so there are only gestures left
but we are both too far
to be able to reach
numbered days of month
sweet fruits that are on palm trees  
quick enery, dates

— The End —