Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Vexren4000 Jan 2017
Trade your time for money,
and death will find you sooner,
than later.

©BAS
leinstinct Dec 2016
Now days people only receive but they never want to give apathetic by nature sentiments are kept within only living for themselves only feeding their desires no one really wants to help no one really cares for one another as obvious as it is they'll only exist when they can get something out of it most people in our planet are condemned with lack of love most people in our planet are condemend with selfishness condemend with avirce condemend with SLAVERY
The Man is lying naked.
This filthy pavement is his abode.
The Man is emaciated and famishing.
And he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
The road is busier than ever.
No one takes interest in him.
No one catches a glimpse at him.
And a few feign not having seen him at all.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.

At the first blush, far from being a beggar
Is the Man.
He is well-complexioned with big glamorous eyes.
His face is sleek and his hair shines against
The lustrous sunbeams.
His eyes are gleeful, but mournful is his heart.
Penniless though, his craving for gold is sheer.
He ogles at the gold brought by the people around.
But he never begs for alms,
Proud and conceited.
Then someone nears him and asks who he is.
After much vacillation, he dismisses his taciturnity.
“Mankind is my name”, he replies.

The time fleets on, the cars move on,
The Man is lying naked.
Yes you are certainly truly;
the forever blameless you.
Not blanched, scared or blemished.
Proudly sweep on through,
the disease and disaster.
here are you: the auteur ,actor,
written, and right.
demonstratively a demon
on a wreck and toll.
A *****-shaper of reality,
Casting a shadow of blight.
Insufferable suffering at the heart of sulphur intent.
Resolute in repetition, caustic in touch,
austere in intent;
ruffles words and mixes in ego‘s promise of absolute within.
Endless shining perfection.
Clarity personified.
Morals petrified to a solemn stone reminder of sin.
All suffer; in the dead heart
Of powers self pleasuring whim.
Conor Madden Oct 2015
Demonic, for it
consumes your being, a hole
ever expanding.
Brent Kincaid Jul 2015
Jammin’ with Mammon.
Hyped to the max.
Finding those loopholes
Paying no tax.
Slammin’ for Mammon.
Foreclosing on life.
You died too soon?
We’ll tax your wife.

Jammin’ with Mammon
The world by the tail.
Lie cheat and swindle
Don’t worry about bail.
Swimmin' like salmon
Against the stream.
Dealing from the bottom;
Living the dream.

Slammin’ for Mammon;
Trample the rest.
Get first and last from
The community chest.
No famine for Mammon;
Let the poor starve.
**** the fatted calf and
Get ready to carve.

Jammin’ with Mammon
As good as it gets.
No room for conscience
Or squishy regrets.
Slammin’ for Mammon
Means money is king.
Don’t count the victims,
Just get the brass ring.
Kurt Miller Jul 2015
There is a cancer in our society, eating us away.
A subtle scent, reeking from years of decay.
The quiet ghost of vast centarian proportions,
Grinding through time, a product of sin's vile contortions.
We struggle to thrive then live to get by,
But when so many rise and so many die,
The scent reaches the nostril of Him the most high.  
Pulling the trigger on a stomach of cess,
Trying to get buy, the few ignore the rest.
Principles have died and with them good deeds,
Sooner or later the last value standing is greed.
SøułSurvivør May 2015
---

hollow
"truth"
is
the
church
bell
of

LIES


soulsur­vivor
(C) 5/31/2015
Beware the man with
love on his tounge

AND AVARICE IN HIS EYES

Inspired by
"EARLY MORNING GOSPEL PREACHER"
by Joe Malgeri

---
K Balachandran May 2014
Hazy eyed
satisfied
just out of the
tumultuous
stream of
pleasure,
picking her
things and
stuffing it in her
hand bag quick,
a moment before
stepping in to
the lift quietly,
she turns to him
and slips
a ****** pill
in to his reluctant palm,
with a suggestive
squeeze,
(an after thought
ahead of a
future plot,
he realizes)
he slips it
carelessly
like in
other times
in to his hip pocket
smiling to himself
mulling over her
****** avarice,
fear of failure,
and insatiated desires
she bundled up
all these years
and kept hidden
like the pill
a promise for tomorrow
deeply buried secret
among the knick knacks,
in  her bag.
Next page