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Jeremy Betts Apr 13
Scared
Of
Every second
Of
Every minute
Of
Every day
Spend a lot of time in areas of gray
Moved to the margins, before getting lost in the fold
Waiting for the one bump in the road
A proverbial tale retold
The one thing
That ends every dream,
That costs everything
Leading back too a familiar nothing
Because why?
Because I
Have
Never been perfect
I've
Never been worth it
I've
Never been proven different
I'm
Not worthy of any of it
I beg constantly,
Prove me wrong
Somebody,
Anybody,
Is there nobody?
Not a single soul
Willing and able
Too prove the fable
Let me
At least see
How it'd be
Too belong
Family
Friends
Lovers
Maybe even an enemy or two,
Prove I was wrong thinking no one would come along
I've put my desperate plea in a song
With compassion in the composition
The right music hits the heart strings some
Just grasping for leverage, eyes fixed on the sun
I don't want to want to be wrong
But the list can't really be zero people long
Don't let that be the conclusion I land on
So fuuckin' lie to me...
I don't know if I can count on another day
With my own truth hanging over me
That no one claims too see
Woe is me

©2014
Francis Jan 3
I really don’t,
Not an ounce,
Not anymore,
Not evermore,
I don’t care.

I don’t care that I’m short,
I don’t care that I’m stout,
I don’t care that I’m poor,
I don’t care much about.

What’s to care for?
Who’s to care for?
We’re carless little bees,
Buzzing away at the lost honey,
When someone is spraying our hive.

Ask me if I give a ****,
Ask me if it is true,
You’ll come to learn and realize,
That even this poem doesn’t rhyme,
And I don’t care.
Do I care? Negative.
Dave Robertson Feb 2022
What does Eunice bring
on these blustered, raging winds?

Busted fences put up in haste,
a forlorn balloon cut loose,
with a smiley face harking back to those
asymmetric aceeeed days
when polarity was frowned upon:
what’s your name where you from what you done?

A man cut from rich serge
can be employed to gaslight
blackened eyes to white,
but the **** in Kent’s hedges
don’t lie
my structure comes in the form of
coffee,
poetry
& *******

i drink coffee to stay awake
long enough to write words
to ******* through life
so that i can explain to people

how my structure comes in the form of
coffee,
poetry,
& *******
my structure comes in the form of
Ayesha May 2021
Wilted jasmines look like popcorns
… that wasn’t very poetic, right?
I was just watching the bushes sway outside my window.
There is no wind today
Just the hot air breathing
I have turned on the A.C. and the fan grumbles quietly

I feel as if my heart is in my stomach
Huh.
**** it,
I really am forcing it out today..
Whatever
I rested my palm on my stomach
As Faizan’s strange playlist chattered nonsense
Outside the blanket shroud I had built
Around myself
And I could feel the beat
The rhythm
Like a drum or a gong
I don’t know why it matters to me
Maybe because I feet as if nothing else does
Right now
I know that sounds exactly like something
A sentimental teenager would say

I don’t know
I want to talk to myself
A heart-to-heart
I want to ask that *****
What is going on
What is wrong
What the **** is wrong, girly!?
I want to hear her ramble on about stuff
Be bored of her talk, but feel kind of happy
That I’m the one she’s confiding in
I wanna give her a hug
To show I don’t have words good enough for comfort
Which I probably do
But am too lazy to fish them out my gooey head
(Besides
I think the poor **** needs a hug)

I wanna zone out and nod along to her words
Just so she can let it out for once
But that *****’s a *****
She acts tough and all smart
But she’s a sappy preteen girl inside
I say,
“Yo, Ayesha, you can cry, you know—”
And she goes,
“Yeah, I know.”
A flip of that inexistent hair
That she long ago butchered
And, bam, she gone.
She tells me
"Yo, Ayesha, you can cry too, you know?"
"I know" I tell her.
I don’t know what to do
So I lie around
Feeling this stupid ***** dance in my stomach
In my wrists
In my temples
I run my fingers down my neck,
Feeling for the echoes of the gong
That keeps talking, talking, talking
Untiring
As if calling me to my people
gathering us together for a battle
that is yet to be fought
yet to be fought—
yet to be ******* fought

And, hey, my
Money plant doesn’t even look rich
That *****—
(Hey, I got a rhyme!)
I don't know how I got from carefully carved and beautified poems to this *******... the little girly had learned some bold words eh
"MIXED FEELING."

The saints
are always
crook: why.?
They have
none tolerance for *******. Yes
believe me
they don't,
even Christ
Jesus didn't. Nonetheless
though He
quoted "When your
right cheek
is slapped turn
the left side."
that's no *******, it's
what make
a Saint. But
He hesitated
not to chase the Merchandise
out the
Lord's temple.
******* are: like, sometimes where positivity is
anticipated finding negativity there
right is
the biggest
******* in the
whole wide
crazy world.
Full of
crazy thangz, crazy people living crazy lifestyle. Wide
life, out
the jungle,
homicides, massacre Wonder why we breathing, when
we living to
die. Or I'm
high? (Sigh)
when will the
world halt being ridiculously
crazy. Said
they he's
zany. Plagued
the sages
mad. However
sages are the
last hopes
to heal
the world.
Corona-virus
army, enemy
agent of segregation. What right have
you to black
me, who am
I to white
a brother. ?
When we
looked just
the same, being  humanbeing.
How to become
human, Auth-positive thinking faculty, creativity,
optimism build only, nothang but
possibility. Innovation, inspiration,
motivation.
Here rode
time on the
road to glory
is there any future anywhere.? if
there ever is
a time for
everythang
le' me use
mine now. I
was told
the future
is now, I
wanna live
it unfolding
my pages
stepping the
stair cases,
roller coaster,
fortune searching
I
ride slow,
nonetheless
I gets heading
I should rush
not, yet
on steadily.
#C9_fm
Jonas Apr 2021
how much **** can you take
before you break
******* everything
in your way
Shannon Soeganda Mar 2021
As within, so without---

As the universe, so the soul.

And so it is.

I'm done.

With my life (path).
I humiliate my self every time I manifest things wrong. The Universe conspires against us all, not working on our behalf.
Amanda Kay Burke Jan 2021
Give an explanation for the lies that you tell
Drinking in the ******* cause you do it too well
And I find a way to get to the point I need to reach
I want to learn the lesson pain is trying to teach
And I will not give up on all the time I was with you
Many songs I wrote for us without intending to
I wish I was inspired
A new muse instead
These words paint your face cause it's stuck in my head
I have attempted to take your picture down but can't seem to make it move
Sinking into inky sea of love I can't remove
In tears I drown my pain and flood this whole **** place
Can't produce enough liquid to fill this empty space
I was inspired by that scene in alice in wonderland where she cries and floods the room
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