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I came into this world knowing nothing,
expected to know everything.
Walking through the façade that making money is the goal.
When so many people around the world cant even show,
a little compasion for their neighbor.
They're just focused on the manual labor.
The labor that has them trapped in the notion that time is money,
and love is nothing.
Okay maybe not nothing but definitely not something,
as important as the currency.
But let me tell you one thing.
It's the notion that no one is worried about whats current, you see?
There's starving children and dying breeds,
yet all we're worried about is what we want not what we need.
Fighting for the money that we dont even have,
saying that its ours, but for what a new hat?
Maybe a car and a new watch,
now what about those who got botched?
Thrown out of the system,
saying that they're worth nothing and no one will miss them.
They all say that love is forever and that you'll die together,
well not unless you mess up and have nothing to rub together.
Since when does the amount of cash in your pocket define your worth?
What happened to personality and what was given to you at birth?
So i sit here confused.
Living in a world that says it loves you for being you,
but in reality we're all being used.
Being programed and abused.
Just to be burried dead and bruised,
with all you who thought you where
better,
but ha jokes on you.
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
I've broken through my outer wall
Only to find a cliff from which to fall
I think I'll run and jump
Maybe then my heart will pump
With an adrenaline rush of being free
Finally a smile on my face, a glimpse of glee
I know I'll hit the bottom, I always do
But this time there will be no need for glue
I'll savour the air passing by
I won't even close my eyes
I'll watch the ground rush up
This life was just to corrupt
Now I know whats on the other side of my wall
I'll leap instead of bawl
Seth Milliman Mar 2016
Power plays,
On different days.
Bringing irony to the tip top of this plateau,
I struggle with words beyond reach sometimes.
But never forget what's below,
Hellish work for sound minded journeymen.
When all wish to be as quite so,
Yet when one is corrupt.
The mind no longer sound or sane,
This is the beginning to what's down below.
And to what's never seen again.
Jonah Long Mar 2016
This world is corrupt
Children murdered everyday
it's time we end it
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
Like a flint rock
You where my spark
And illuminated the dark
But I was blinded by the light
When I got you in my sight
And I could not see
What you where doing to me
I was caught up in the glow
Your pretty word's that flow
So you burned me up
You were so corrupt
So now I am just ashes
oh my stars Mar 2016
the creativity is running out.
people are becoming robots;
their brains controlled
by the mechanics of greed.
but i refuse to succumb
to the ever growing sanity
of society
and humanity.
i will cling
to the words
and the music
and the art.
i will not be taken over,
my mind will not be stolen
by the goblins of the swollen
world below.
i will paint myself the colour of youth
and pray my camouflage
allows me to retain my imagination,
i will not lose it to the education
system which takes so many
minds of innocent children.
they used to dream
and feel
and smile
and cry.
now they sit in office blocks,
brains ticking like ******* clocks.
making phone calls,
the reciprocating voices also without souls.
and the art they used to create,
the beauty they used to dictate
hangs on the wall
of the long forgotten
art gallery of nostalgia.
creativity dismissed as playful,
boring must equate to important.
what happened to the people
who used to laugh at everything?
i refuse
to lose
the battle of my beauty.
Isn't it astonishing,
   The amount of hate
That humans have for
        Each other?

If only that same effort
    Was used to threaten
The crooked hand holding
          Us captive.
Parker Dec 2015
I stand before you
accused by some fool.
You call me a witch,
but I say you are foolish to agree.
I but a simple girl
I mean harm to no one.
You demand I confess to my sins of witchcraft
I'm firm when I look you the eye and tell you,
“ I cannot”.
I go three days and three nights
with only water and some stale bread
in the damp dark of the jail.
I almost fear my hunger has made me mad
when I see your face appear at my cell.
Though am weak,
I rise to greet your scornful face.
Again, you demand I confess.
You wish to make an example of me.
Yet again I look  you in the eye and reply;
“ I  cannot."
You storm out in anger raving about how I shall hang,
but I will not be tried for something I did not do.
I will not ruin my name for the games of the fool.
I stand at the gallows and you demand one last time my confession
A single tear rolls down my face as I look to the crowd gathered to see my end.
Standing tall, I whisper
“I cannot.”
s.s.
olivia grace Dec 2015
the female adolescent is beautiful
in black and white
colour loses depth
we see everything like a small puppy
isn't the what you want?
innocence?
naive little girls who can't hold their own?
who can barely stand on their own two feet?
the female is a miraculous creature
she carries herself like a feather on a cool breeze
maybe because she's so frail & the wind is so loud
oh the feeling of hunger pains on a cold winter morning
wondering if maybe im small enough now to feel the wind in my bones
freezing my enamel
wondering how many calories are in toothpaste
or the bleach we swish around in our mouths to whiten our teeth
we eat pills for breakfast
anti-depressant
Prozac
laxatives
Xanax
and hair & nail supplements
so we can look beautiful while dying
dabbling in hobbies like
shopping
buying makeup
fainting while walking to the bus stop
hunching over the toilet while top model plays in the background
shaming our metabolisms for not being able to burn through a tic tac fast enough
yelling at our doctors for claiming that our
"hearts are too big for such a small body"
boys think we dumb ourselves down to make ourselves more appealing
little do they know the number of times we bang on our heads to knock out the unclean thoughts like
food or
sleep
how our brain cells die each time we slap away our frowns & replace them with painted smiles
small dumb Barbie dolls
plastic
easily ripped apart
we hide our pain with concealer
bruised from bumping into counters
purple knees
carrying a rubber band for months till that rubber band is carrying us
slapping our wrists to warrant authority
because beauty has power over everything
measuring the space between our thighs
yanking at the skin that will never leave
measuring the space between the blade and our wrists
remembering that scars will only make it worse
measuring the space between now and never
realizing life is a thing
realizing life would be better without you
realizing you haven't weighed yourself today
gathering your fears in mason jars
collecting your tears & mailing them to places far, far away
the female adolescent is beautiful
but only in black and white
this is meant to be a slam poem but I thought I might as well post it
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