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 Sep 2013 Sir B
Valentine Mbagu
The moment comes when you dream for love,
The moment when the present calls the future to fulfilment;
The moment when the future draws nearer.
The moment when love seeks companion,
The moment when you are ready to love;
The moment when life calls for love.
The moment when someone out there seeks your love,
The moment when someone awaits your appearance;
The moment when someone designed for you calls for your love.
The moment when you believe to find your missing rib,
The moment when you wait and feel love ahead;
The moment when you find that missing part of you that makes you complete.
.............Beware...........,
many will come in disguise to love;
.............But....................,
be not deceived by multitude of flatteries;
wait for the moment of love.
The moment when past is revealed before relationship,
The moment when nothing is hidden ina relationship;
The moment when you still love each other despite past lives;
With the knowledge that life is surrounded by past adventures.
Trust in the moment of love,
Hope in the call of the future; and
Believe in the one destined for you.
Someone who will never wish to see you in tears, or
bear to see you travail in pains and sorrow.
Someone who will understand every path you tread.
Someone you know not but believe is out there waiting for you; and
longing for your love.
Someone who awaits you just as you await him/her,
Each step taken brings that someone closer to you.
Someone who believes in integrity and honour of the body, not
defilement of the body before marriage.
Someone who believes in relationship to marriage,
someone who believes in the law of marriage,
......the law which states that.....
Marriage is honourable in all,
above all in a bed undefiled.
Someone who seeks to live for love to marriage,
when the appointed time comes;
Someone who believe that destiny will bring you both together,
when ready to meet each other.
Someone you believe can feel your heartbeat as you can feel their's.
Someone whose part of, you are and your part they are.
Someone who comes to take away the pains and memories of wrong relationships and past lives.
Someone whose heart seeks to build your's,
Someone whose character and charisma seeks your integrity and dignity.
....Before the moment of love....
Strive to make full proof of life ambitions,
Seek self asset not self liability;
Determine to accomplish your vision forlife's mission with passion.
Then seek the moment of love and relationship.
Let character and charisma build your honour and dignity.
Believe in the moment of love that moment of fulfilment.
The moment when you are sort after for your virtuous character.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Skye Applebome
Life is a Machine for Pigs
The best of us are
Slaughtered
Sliced
Cooked,
And served
To the worst of us
who are simply ignored
by the torturous
Machine
for Pigs

The best of us
upon The Arrival
of the Machine
Slowly begin
a Dark Descent
A spiral into
Neverending Nightmares
But nobody
is there
To hear
our Cry of Fear.
The worst of us
Are not deemed
fit for the Machine.

and so,
the best of us,
The Lost Souls,
The Last of Us,
are still subjected
To the Machine's
Mental
Ominous
Evil
Lasting
Purgatory
that is the Machine
for Pigs.
While this is a true poem, I've included a number of video game titles (all of them are horror games). They're capitalized.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Skye Applebome
Dear Mark,
You have an uncanny ability to make me laugh.
So many times I have been in the darkest of places,
To be brought back up by another video of yours.
You thank us, me, for subscribing and supporting you,

But really, you shouldn't be thanking us.

We should be (and are) thanking YOU
For helping us
For saving us
For making us laugh
For making us happy
For making us forget our troubles
For your continued dedication
For your hilarity
For your generosity
*For everything.
Mark Fischbach (or markiplierGAME, Markiplier for short) is a YouTuber who's just recently hit 800,000 subscribers. He's never failed to cheer me up. I HIGHLY recommend you check him out.
http://www.youtube.com/user/markiplierGAME


If you're in a dark place and need a laugh, watch one of his videos. If it doesn't cheer you up, watch another, and soon enough you'll be laughing and smiling and you'll have forgotten your troubles, if only for a while.
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Mike Hauser
Where does the night go to cry in New York City
Whose finger print is that upon the moon*
Who kisses the stars and shows them pity
To the forever distant tune

Whose selling souls in the land of plenty
Backing out on promises they've made
Buying the beggar off with no more than pennies
While spitting on the unmarked graves

Who gives a voice to the silence
Where does memory turn when it forgets
When the strong ones fall who picks up the pieces
Where do the dying place their bets

If the fool reaches for the hand of wisdom
At that moment does he cease to be a fool
If the night could hear, would it even listen
*And would it stop crying if it knew
 Sep 2013 Sir B
r l
I drew a picture
It was in blue crayon
It had my mom,brother,dad,uncles,aunts,and cousins
It looked like scribbles,not people at all
My mom taped it to her wall
Next to her side of the bed she shared with dad
She wrote the date i drew it so she could remember

I drew another picture
It was of the beach
My mom,dad,brother, and I were in it
There were birds that looked like 'M's
And umbrellas that looked like rainbow colored mushrooms
My mom hung it next to my older drawing
But didn't write the date

I drew a different picture
It was of a dog,I wanted a dog
My mom said we're never getting a dog
My dad said he wanted one
They fought for 1/2 hour
I gave my mom the picture the next day
She put it on her wall next to the side of the bed she never slept in anymore

I drew another picture
It was of my parents before they fought every day
I went into the living room show it to them
My mom was at the computer crying
My dad was yelling
Telling her she raised us wrong
I listened in,hiding behind the couch 
The yelling and crying got worse
I left and put the drawing in a drawer in my room

I drew a different drawing
It was of my favorite singer
He had a microphone and a guitar
My dad was outside smoking
I thought he had quit for good this time
I went to show my mom
She was texting
She looked up from her phone
She looked at the drawing
Said "that's great"
Then handed it back without looking at me and continued texting
I put it in the drawer with the other drawings 

I drew a picture of my family
My mom,dad,and brother 
Without me,the way it should be
I put it in my drawer and wrote the date
So I could remember
This is the poem that won me first place in my city's middle school poetry contest :)  I had to delete it a few times,but I can keep it up now
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Alvira Perdita
Happiness is picking
Up a guitar and still
Feeling the same way
You did when you
First got it
 Sep 2013 Sir B
brooke
two years ago you
kissed my cheek
and i posted it on
facebook. Your ex
asked for all her
things back.
(c) Brooke Otto
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Fah
(12W)
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Fah
Always running with time,
never out of it

i am the time keeper
 Sep 2013 Sir B
Claire E
There's nothing glamorous
About kneeling on the cold bathroom floor
Staring into the toilet
At your dinner
With a finger down your throat
And an imaginary gun to your head  
Trying to quiet your heaving
So your family doesn't wonder
And not stopping until you are empty
Until you are sure that every ounce of your enemy that we call food is out of your body
The same body your mother spent hours and hours pushing out of her so your beauty could be shared with this word
Your body which was once a vessel for beauty and love
But has now become a vessel for your self hatred and distruction
No
There's nothing glamorous
About staring into the mirror
After its all said and done
Looking into your blood shot eyes
Searching for something that was lost when you rid yourself of that food
Running your hands under warm water  
Trying to wash away the scent and shame
But no matter how hard you scrub
No matter how much soap you use
No matter how strong the water pressure is
They linger
And linger
And linger
No
There's nothing glamorous  
About your mother looking at you with tear filled eyes
And asking if you're doing "it" again
Because she can't even stomach to say what "it" is
Almost like you can't stomach the thought of being away from a toilet for more than a few hours
And all you reply with is a dishonest no
You watch as she slowly dies inside
Because she knows no means yes
And she pleads with you
"Why" she cries
And you don't even bother to answer
Because even as sick as you are you know how twisted your reasoning is
No
There's nothing glamorous
About your life revolving around the next time you can get to a toilet
When all you can think about is that next purge
That next release
That next cleanse
Because when you purge you're not only purging your food
But you're purging all those thoughts of stopping, all those thoughts of getting better
When that food hits the water those thoughts quiet
All you hear is "get it out" "get it all out"
They are silenced by your need to be perfect
To be thin
No
There's nothing glamorous
About soar throats
And mouth soars
Scared knuckles
And puffy cheeks
No
There's nothing glamorous
About slowly destroying your body
Your body which is now just a peetry dish for your sick thoughts
Everyday
From the inside
Out
Trust me
I know
I stopped writing to deal with things... I just stopped caring. But today I realized I need to start again, it's as good as any therapy and I missed it too much to stop.
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