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there are good souls in this world
shrouded in weathered skin
dry and cracked
with scowls hung upon their face
balancing on the scars of their brow
just as there are bad souls in this world
hiding under plush skin
their faces adorned with kind eyes and
cherry red lips made for kissing
or spitting with rage

picture a gorgeous brunette
with fair skin, bold eyebrows
and her hair in a subtle
yet nineteen-thirties style updo
wearing a red chiffon summer dress
the sun beats down on her
as she glistens with light perspiration
espresso in-hand cigarette in the other
her pale soft skin no match for
the thirty degree heat outside
of this café she nonchalantly finds herself
she is the epitome of carefree beauty

she kicked her lovers dog outside this morning
exiling him to a six hour long toilet break
after she "forgot" she had let him out
before leaving to go shopping
whilst her feller finished his shift
because the dog is old and smelly
and gets almost as much attention as her
she even saw his pensioner neighbour
struggling to take the bins out
as she walked to her car
and laughed rather than help
because she always
thought Mary was a no good Jew
she even called her Mrs. Goldstein
"Have a nice day Mrs. Goldstein."
but Mary's surname is Cohen

picture this beautiful girl a siren
leading good men astray
she can get any man she wants
and plucks only the finest
most succulent
I mean successful
and well put together men
from gardens of bachelors
maturing in the hardships of city life
she has plenty choice but she's fickle
you see, her man has to be almost perfect
for it to be as enjoyable as possible
to watch his life unravel and unfold
into everything he wanted it not to be

achievable only through toxic beauty
her joy is venom soaked insides
of lovers caught in a sultry web
of lies, ambition and ***
she loves a scandal
or a text sent to the wrong person
and she has everything to hide
but does nothing to do so
she gets by just fine
being beautiful and sickening  
and sickeningly beautiful
you know the sort
she is a bad, bad girl
Man Jan 2021
without heartache
how would i ever know love?
and if not for misery
could i be happy?
it is the duality
that makes the one
good
and the other
bad
they each contrast one another
for without contrast
our painting would be colored canvas
blank, totally devoid of any deeper meaning
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2021
Sometimes
When I observe
The darkness of the people
To light them up

I find myself
Dark
Like them

Earlier I wasn't
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Energy healing
Frank F Dec 2020
Your skin is the walls and
Your voice builds halls
That never end.

You remember the days when there were ways
Around. People around.
You remember the things, those important things,
All piled on top of each other.

You can’t smell the garden you planted.
You can’t read the book you’re writing.
You can’t hear your laughter, after.

The dust fell like a blanket
And you were too scared to move.
One crack, and you’ll never go
Back. Never leave as you watch the
Leaves dancing.
As you watch them all running.

Your room is the garbage can
Of your life.
But at least it’s not empty.
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2020
Sometimes one needs to
Dim the light to be in
The abyss world

No, no brighter sun over there
Just because
That world is grey
And greyness is
What they are used to
What they prefer
Normality
In their sense

Offering light
Even a trace
May leads to blindness
And yes
You don't want to
Blind them

Yet that light
Is love
Genre: Observational
Theme: Thus dim you own light
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2020
Once
My mother said
Every person
Who knows
The contrast between
The water and the tear

They know love
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Better Human Project
LLillis Aug 2020
The green shades of spring,
Have not intimidated
The purple maple.
One young purple maple stands in my yard against an older more established background of countless greens. It seems as unperturbed as it should be, being a tree. But I find celebrating the differences, the contrasts, in all things to be worthwhile. What use is only ever seeing green?
Tenant Aug 2020
Reading my book against a stained-glass window.
I see you as you go
I see you with rose colored vision.
Divinely tinted
Red, pink, then blue
As you go out of view.
Back to my book- black print
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