Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ritz Writes Nov 2019
State of silence and silent tears, wet pillows and fears
Left us paralyzed, with a mortal body that could neither feel nor think.
Confined within the cage, heart fueled with rage;
To wreak vengeance, to seek justice when each bygone days were heaped with debts.
" To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche
KR Aug 2019
We
The light comes in with early morning dew
They wake to a dim world
A world tormented by ****** and chaos
Yet they still get up everyday
Everyone else does
We have no other choice
The spiral seems to never end as we detest and crumble
We are against ourselves
Nature has begun to rebel
We have stayed too long
We have been too far
We have broken the rules not made by us
But by something bigger than we could ever be
And it is angry

We are the cause of destruction
We have disrupted the natural order of things
We were never meant to become this
But even as we change and grow exponentially
We fail to look back at our shortcomings
In this we repeat our mistakes again and again

We used to have gods to talk to
But we have killed them all in exchange for the quick and easy
We left this hole
Now instead of biodiversity in every sense of the word
We have chains
Chain restaurants
Chain stores
Chain crops
Chain religion
Chain mindset
We have readily accepted being shackled into an unforgiving world
We have blinded ourselves with screens because its easier to see the truth from a lense that seperates emotion from meaning
But who am I to so judge
I myself accept these chains because it does make life easier
For now
Thats the catch
The for now

Soon enough what makes life easier will actually make life incredibly harder as nature changes in an order to **** us
When you only have 1 type of corn, what do you do when a disease kills it all
When you force antibiotics down your throat for every slight inconvince, what do you do when they stop working
Nature is evolving to **** us off
And our stupid decisions are paving the way
Money makes the world go round
And global warming makes it tilt off it’s axis
Ritz Writes Jun 2019
Behind all the angst and rant,
Behind all that frustration and days of solitude,
A child struggling to make amends.
Behind all that smoke and ashes,
Behind that sorrow hiding in mask,
A boy choking himself not to cry.
The Big Bad World will move on without your existence and soon you'll turned into dust and no legacy left to mourn over.
"Oh Mama! What do I do now?
The sleep alleviated the pain.
In dreams, I found my escape."

©RitzWrites ♕
thea Mar 2019
They will come.
And it'll you.
It'll hit you because its the 21st century, the reality of the modern world. You and them; them and everything that surrounds them.
Like a pedestrian attempt, the government system is all at cost about change and more change and brainwashing.
The in and out assests duplicating the excruciating mantel of dead lives and lives at stake.
You will walk half-asleep doing things you think are important.
Like a baptized child, to sanitize the dirt is even pious to the church, but they will come to you
and expect you to write about them; them and everything that surrounds them.
A column of pathological liars, OCD's, manic depressives, and a row of *** positives is the table of modernism.
But its fine, until 24/7 never stop wishing to 11:11.
Like a house is fine without a home, you will at least feel you're not alone.
They will offer a god - in high buildings, in the streets, in your neighborhood; a fine narcotic charm
that will mend your mood. And then they will come to you.
You and them; the faces, the ideologies, the tattoos, the smell, the drugs, the skin; they will insist you to write about them.
And it'll hit you.
They're disgustingly beautiful.
Way of thinking - sound,
tattoos - artsy,
scent - morning's dew,
drugs - crystal and *****,
skin - cashmere of the richest kind.
Like faith, you are worm on bait in the modern world called 21st century.
They will come to you wanting you to write about them.
You and them; them and everything that surrounds them.
“How come the saddest writes
Seem to get all the likes?”

There’s literally a proverb for that,
Misery loves company;

Even in the 21st century.
I was thinking about this the other day
Nicole Dawn May 2015
What kind of a stupid question is that?

You have forgotten,
We live in the 21st century
No one is happy

Content?
Maybe

Fine?
Perhaps

Hopeful?
Occasionally

But happy?
No
Nada
Never

Are you happy?
What kind of a stupid question is that?
This is dumb sorry
Those that are complacently designed
By the simpering vanities
of a domesticated world
rarely find the peace of mind
of which we all strive
because their materialistic
beliefs constrain them
in pools of normality
Drowning them in the pressures of society
and hanging them out to dry
in downloaded photos
that never fade
our lives are all dictated
by the subconscious influence
of one another
thus our souls
are irrefutably intertwined
locked together in endless struggle
mind against mind.
sapphic girl Feb 2015
say say, "poems"

orbit around teenage angst or "melodrama"

and unrequited love or a "15 year old's infatuation"

with the relishes of teenage woes

alongside skanky ******

were reversed roles in a millennial

battle ; a literacy war



say say, "poets"

clad in magniloquent scrapes

of tight skin, "grandiose" leather

that screech tumblr or more commonly known "fashion"

were the luminescent windows

to that "boy's soul" or obnoxious ****



say say "teens"

as infertile as neglected garden soil

had fervent thoughts on "feminism"

or as the males see it as misandry

and whose words did not revolve

around themselves or "ignorance"

then maybe bloods wouldn't boil

past water's b.p.

and heads wouldn't load with loathe or "insecurities"

and hearts wouldn't heal with blood

or "suicide"

**| say say - m.m |

— The End —