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Kayla Gallant Dec 2018
We are much too young
To worry this much
About life
All that we have to offer
We carry around
In a suitcase
The size of a plum
Yet we worry
We will never be
Good enough
For them
The Gods who control us
Puppeteers in balcony seats
We are just passengers
In this brief carasoul
Of a lifetime
This is a rough draft of a poem I am working on. I would love to hear some feedback so I can improve my work. Thank you lovelies xo
People in a authority there jobs just go to their heads.
To heavy *handed

Pushing the vunlable.
The less fortunate.

Cruel lack of empathy
Had enough of them.
They make my blood boil.

Over And over again.
Need brought down a peg  or two.
I'll**  show them
Who they are dealing with.
Bra-Tee Jan 2015
Listen to me body! I am your master.
Listen to me hands! I command you!

My eyes I demand that you dry. Stop showing this world how fragile we are.

Legs stop shaking and causing earth to reach for me.

Hands stop sweating. Your letting strength slip through our fingers.

Emotions we do not need you here. This house is to small for your boolshit!

Body I'm the master and you the slave
Don't forget that.

Stop exposing my weakness!

You cowardice flesh stop shivering its only pain! Hold still!

Tongue, shut the **** up! you hold your self still and keep my secrets.

In fact body stop being so Human or I will fvckin **** you!!! Haaaaaaaaa!
I think I'm too much obsessed with perfection .

— The End —