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There are people who believe that they own me,
but they're mistaken, ‘cause no one owns me but me.
And these same people believe that without them I’m nobody.
They’re wolves disguised as sheep.

There are people who see my life as an entertainment
and they spend their every effort trying to get more people to join their game.
And these same people would do anything to see me defeated.
An enemy disguised as a friend.

There are people who are the literal description of a snake.
They’ll slowly swallow you whole until they’re well fed.
And these same snakes will ***** you to feast on you later.
A hater disguised as a lover.

They call themselves besties
as long as they have you by your testies.
Learn to see right through the “trust in me” trick
and trust no frenemy.
They're as cheap as a ***** on Hubbard Street
and as fake as her silicone ****.

Listen to me carefully before my voice fades away.
What does your intuition have to say?
Written on March 9, 2012
Composition number: 396
Bettlejuice Jan 22
Jealously
an
evil
seed
that
eats
away
the
heart
Jo Swan Jan 9
Animosity allergens,
dark as the Dracula’s dungeon,
insidiously infects the heart.
Vivacity begins to part.

In the realm of my subconscious,
I've confronted my madness.
There’s a monster in me that should die-
my morale withered and dry.

My spirit polluted with hate-
toxic as organophosphates.
The psyche is a perpetrator
who lusts for the power of ******.  

Drowning in the depths of darkness
of my wild imagination,
I’m shocked by this revelation!

The epiphany of my evil-
influenced by the vile devil,
my ego- sinful and gruesome.
Dear Lord, what have I become?
Avery Glows Jun 2018
Why o why, must you hate so endearingly?
Must you find reasons to hate, do you not find that futile?
Why is that that we must hate, when our time to love is finite.
Why mustn't we love, even when in hate
knowing, it is love amidst the loathing.
April 2018
Ron Gavalik Jun 2017
I loved you
every single day
especially those nights
you ******
other men
You’re better than me
but you kept coming
back for more
PittsburghWriter.net
Rachel Doty Feb 2017
Hate. All I see is hate.
Pure, unadulterated hate.
It's everywhere now.
In the ceiling, under the rickety floorboards,
Sleeping through the cracks of a once impenetrable foundation.
There are three sides to every story, but no one wants to see the third side, the truth.  I'm right, no I'm right, well you're a demon. You're not smart enough, not pretty ebough, too pretty, the wrong ethnicity, to give a valid argument. You're not valid. Only I, the holiest of beings, can tell you how to think, what to say, and what to never say. I-
SHUT UP!!!
...
God, silence is golden.

Then there's the rest of us. The children, huddled in a dark corner where their angry parents hurl glass plates and scream. We want everything to be well. Perhaps "well again" isn't the right phrase. Home was never perfect, and it never will be. But if we could be a happy family, even through the dark times, if we could hear what one another is saying, no. If we could LISTEN to what one another is saying, that would be enough.

There are those who are done fighting, the old man in his wicker chair, waiting his whole life to be noticed. When he finally gets his medal, his children throw it into the garbage disposal. What is there left to say when no one will listen?

There are those of us on the front lines, the virtual vigilantes.
So passionate, so intense, so disconnected.

There are the Orwellian sheep. Saying what they've been told by whomever chooses to educate them. Their minds so innocent, angry, closing every day. They see not the masses of wolves spinning lies with the help of their wool.  

The house is crumbling. Those who scream too loud are breaking the glass windows. The soft spoken are struggling to clean the splintery, split floorboards. Of course, they are all too busy to notice the house is leaning far off to one side. It starts to teeter on the side of a cliff. Creak. Creak. Creak.
World is full of vultures and hounds
Meanest go on groundless grounds
Vicious cross a place out of bounds
Human faces have snake like sounds

Women follow Satan to his ***** den
Vicious circles include when all men
******* intentions accompany then
Their fates are already written by pen

I can not forget that ***** and *****
Which proved to be like a real witch
Virtue is solace vice ,a ditch after ditch
Let me take her on to switch to enrich

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
World is full of vultures and hounds
Meanest go on groundless grounds
Vicious cross a place out of bounds
Human faces have snake like sounds

Women follow Satan to his ***** den
Vicious circles include when all men
******* intentions accompany then
Their fates are already written by pen

I can not forget that ***** and *****
Which proved to be like a real witch
Virtue is solace vice ,a ditch after ditch
Let me take her on to switch to enrich

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Frank Ruland Jun 2015
C E A S E F I R E!
Stand down and halt this ire!
HP* is meant for poets and their writing,
not ****** schmucks inciting all this fighting!
I'm [SIC] of all you Trolls -
your *"critiquing's"
getting old
Guess I gotta be the one to break the mold
You're a critic? I'm a skeptic
The filth from your mouth is all septic
Heathens like you aren't happy unless everything is hectic!
WHY?!
Notice the lack of reciprocity?!
I laugh at your animosity
Your delusions are lost on me
Bullies buried between your yesterdays
Tomorrow, you won't even be a memory
The only thing in jeopardy is your identity!  
Some pseudo Godsend playing Devil's Advocate!
Svengali's soul didn't have half your tensity!
Lashing out at poets, you sadistic faux-et
That's a play on words, and I bet you didn't even know it!
Get outta my house, I'm dropping rhymes
Mr. God and Beryle are puppets and mimes
Egos aplenty, but your hearts are all empty
I'm not even mad, in fact I'm amazed
I wish I had half the time that you waste
attacking poets in your hateful haze
Your criticism is cynicism -  your words are all wrong
This is a ceasefire - let's all get along
HP is a Haven where all poets belong,
so get with the program, or get your *** gone
I'm sick of all the Trolls, people. I know they are needlessly belittling great poets on this site for no reason other than to antagonize us and pleasure themselves. Their "critiquing" is bullying in disguise. All their criticism are just lies. HP is not a place for all this ****** cyber bullying. Seriously. There are actually REAL people whose feelings are getting hurt. They pour their hearts out to hundreds of people, only to be bullied and ridiculed. I'll call out all the Trolls, if I have to. Bullying is bullying.
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