Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
NeroameeAlucard Apr 2018
The biggest mistake our society made
Was thinking all of our experiences are universal, one in the same
So know when we say society is to blame
We can look back now at this mistake we made.

Although our paths may cross our roads are very different
We can intersect and end up in different places spaces occupied by life's unchanging eyes
But despite this interplay and crossroading we still can't seem to find harmony despite all our advances and abilities to share our lives and perspectives with others
For all the hate i see out there, you'd think there'd be just as many lovers

The biggest mistake our society made
Was thinking all of our experiences are universal, one in the same
So know when we say society is to blame
We can look back now at this mistake we made.

There are so many voices in this global choir
So many choices at the places we go to, it takes less energy to love and unite and we perspire to hate and divide, not aspire to be as one gigantic family under the sun
And if not now, then when will that wonderful day come?

The biggest mistake our society made
Was thinking all of our experiences are universal, one in the same
So know when we say society is to blame
We can look back now at this mistake we made.
Jack Mar 2018
The world tells us we are nothing,
They say we cause crime, so disgusting,
They say we have no work rate,
They insight all this hate,
They say all we do is drink and smoke,
And on their lies people choke,
They will charge us a fortune simply for living ,
And exploit our blindness, unforgiving,
They will take our money with brutal smirk,
And then say it’s because we won’t work,

They call us “snowflake”,
But all of our happiness they will take.
**** The World.
Ashley Thao Dam Feb 2018
Between humid dew and gilded light you ventured
Drinking in earthy mahogany hues
Men spoilt from their discomfort beside you
Touched by their patronage
You bloomed

Flowering tales of a world
On the cusp of progress and historical legacy
The torn flesh of your snowy mare
The warmth of blood and terror

Dripping
Peeling
Decaying

With my eyes
I taste your fear
-- Nov 2017
Good intentions
all misconstrued
to emo-orthodoxy.
Those that shoulder those stutters that fall blandly from lips loosed free from inhibition know their shame all too well.
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
slaving away
for hours on end
flipping burgers
and sighing inside, knowing that your life is emptie

how are we going to fix this problem?
corporations are evil
but what should we do?

we the peepole must stand united
liberty and justice for all
we must fight
and that is why we need you
please leave comments and feedback below :)
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
oxygen
molecules
h20
o2
co2
its overwhelming sometimes
how things can combine
to make new things

chemistry
biology
aquatic biology
its overwhelming sometimes
how when you think about new things, you have questions
and those questions turn into answers
that only leave you with more questions

books
magazines
newspapers
peoms
its overwhelming sometimes
that the written word, a beautiful method of self-expression
has been corrupted
by Them

The ones that manipulate
that scorch
that ravage the land

we must stand up
we must fight
and only then
can we be free
can we be underwhelmed
we will be strong
with everyone fighting
forming a human wall

we will be stronk.
please comment and feedback below! thanks :)
I once heard that art is most beautiful when imitateing life . I never understood this; imitation infers a falsehood, a lack of authenticity. Art can only be what it is, unapologetically,It can’t build a facade.
I ,the one who is deemed alive, lie habitually to those around me and worse my self.
I am a performer playing the part of least resistance and greatness propitiation. Solitarily contemplating a collective I want to both develop beyond the horizon or envelop in the flames of a star.
conundrums are the base of these self destructive edifice. Best escape is outside of self, either on the wall in the air or on a shelf.  

Now who imitates who,
When One feels most real imitating art?
not sure if this is a crisis or a metamorpheus
Lucy Sep 2017
Transient summers,
Forbidden Bluebell fields,
Tough times symbolise the pouring of ales.


Manicured lawns,
Cider drinking Saturdays,
Routine discussions about the sun and rain.


Hijinx down the watering hole,
The great unwashed congregating on Market Day,
Smog penetrating the lungs,
Forlorn eyes, social decay.


Leaders of austerity,
Riddled with oppressive policies,
The tedious endurement of the morning commute.


Sirens cut across Westminster,
A quintessential rave anthem,
Boxing Day sales,
Sheer pandemonium.


Revelling in satire,
And curtain twitching,
Reading racists newspapers,
Disenfranchised youth.


Icky dance floors with raging hormones,
Breath heavy with hops and acrid tobacco.


**** drops and winding waists,
Ladies bathroom, evil eyes exchanged.


Sundays spent hanging,
And Mondays depressed,
Holy communions,
Cladded in your best dress.


Suppressed thoughts,
And baited breath
An Albion filled with oppression and dread.
Marc Hawkins Sep 2017
Take a branch,
Snap it and hear it crack.
Take a lie,
Roll it over a hard stone and,
In the sun, let it crisp,
Then crumble it
Into a cold stream of reassurance...
Let it drift.

Cut the wire
Sever the thing that tethers

Take all the truths
That you know to be true
Place them in a box.
Replace each ending
With the ending that follows.
Re-evaluate, redesign
Recreate, realign.

Take all the things that you loved
To be the things that you now hate

Take pleasure when you can,
Take despair as it comes.
Take a miniscule moment in time and
Expand it until the weight becomes unbearable,
Then drop it from the cliff top.
Watch it crash towards the ocean,
Watch your dreams fly north
And become lost in the mist.

Take the things you once loathed
To be the things you now hold dear

Don’t let it wear you out
(It’s nothing personal).
Take it sitting down,
Roll with the punches,
Absorb the force.
Pull away from cold surfaces.
Run your own race in your own time,
Failure seldom comes enforced

Take the pendant
Gently pull at the chord

Simply turn out the light.
Be aware of your breathing -
A two minute meditation
Of ins and outs.
Down into foam and memories.
Down into dead cold then
Into searing heat...
Into blue, then green, then black.
Into familiar confusions
And self doubts.

Take a short cut
Dare to get lost

One foot, then the other,
Then the first then the second.
Arms outstretched -
Radar fingers.
Avoid cold surfaces and blazing furnaces...
Places sure to become places
Where my impression lingers.

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2016
M Norris Jun 2017
The eagle can't soar.

Left wing and right wing
Working together in harmony,
And the eagle can be seen
Soaring beautifully, gloriously.

When the left and the right
Have between them a wall,
And continuously fight
Then the eagle will fall.

Alas, the wings are both broken
And the eagle is grounded.
Big dreams that will never be spoken
Amidst the din that has sounded.
Political commentary, Yay!
Next page