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jasmine wild Jul 2020
creeps up on you when you finally think you're ok
but the winter has finished now
we gotta wait for summer to come around
when they're out in full force
when you turn the corner and least expect it
don't worry it'll find you
badtaste May 2020
for those that support the disorder of life,
understand the order of all peace kept - sleeps with one hand tight with a knife,

covered in sheets that reek from the odor of death - secrets creep over the  security that was sworn to be kept,
molded from laws as soft as  concrete constantly mocking the hungry  families who eat dinner with a papier-mâché fork wrapped in  barbed wire,

like a Christmas present expired to be opened on Halloween - the corporate begs for his try as he fears his life will be silenced  from the woman screaming inside the screen of a machine,

trails hide liars but it is unanimous  the innocence is such an inconvenience to those who share a chair in power - one more child is treated as a photo never receiving justice as  deserved,
dessert is served but sentencing was never heard - the Franklin family left without any sweet revenge,
it seems big business buys opinions and walks clean with red covered hands that dipped in the process

such a shame the court caught an inner most disgusting sickness and deserted dignity from the rights of 13-year old Rebecca Arnold Frank
true story
Nylee May 2019
Catch me with the light
Cause I only play in the darkness
Creeping around with my
Claws out
I'm so hungry
my stomach is rumbling
through mass destruction

food makes me want to puke
up the lies that are holding down my truth

I'm so tired
my eyes keep closing

though these thoughts run wild in my brain
my mind is wide awake

I'm so scared
I'm so angry
I'm so lost
I'm so alone
I'm so weak
I'm so nieve

why did I trust you
why would you do these things
putting me in the middle
of my sanity and my family

I was finally happy
someone, please help me
my heart has beaten around 661,059,360 times, and when i focus hard enough i can feel my heart beat take over my body
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
The lies of guys I was unwise
To let between my thighs
Because their eyes beguiled
Every time they smiled and I
Could not prematurely say goodbye.
Instead I took the guy to bed
Despite the murmurs in my head
And said stupid things in his ear
That I regretted that year and still
And yes, I probably always will.

Some guys tell lies with their eyes
In a kind of non-verbal disguise,
Of bigger and sadder untruths
That a green youth suspect exist
So that I didn’t resist temptation
To ignore deceit and exaggeration
For a moment’s hope for romance
And an afternoon’s hopeful chance
At something profound and legendary
That I forgot I needed to be wary.

Then the surprises in my eyes
As I realized I was unwise
But still thought I loved the guys,
Time and time again, trying,
Forgetting the crying and chagrin,
Then brave enough to try again
Taking time to learn to swim
In the river of romantic dreams
That starts in a tiny little stream
Going on until I sink or scream
Love is not something from a magazine.

Then one day I wake and say
No more! I finally know the score.
The whole game is a sick bore
And I know what it is all for.
It is for the wises route to wisdom.
To know I am finally through with them,
To know which ones are bad for me
And which to welcome gratefully;
To set the table and make dinner
And know for sure, he’s a winner.

I share the concept happily,
For those who ask me seriously,
That dating can be successful
Can even be fun and restful
If you ignore the glittery butterflies
That cavort and lie with their eyes
And want only that momentary thing
But are deathly afraid of the ring
And the promise that comes with you.
Don’t applaud those who gig you.
And choose from those who dig you.
awknight Mar 2018
Heavy feet fall on the steps
outside my door.  I cannot
let them in. They demolish
my mind as I try to stare
peacefully out the window —
passed the too same infrastructure.
It ***** with my mind.

The illness creeps in the corners of the
panes. They can’t find
their way in, but they know
I can see them. Fixated. They feel
my sheer panic. My understanding
is tainted by my watchers.
They feel my pulse accelerate and
laugh as my veins pump blood
toward their thirsty mouths.

Millions of teeth. Coming after

I am eaten alive

by the watchers
by the knowers
Brent Kincaid Feb 2018
250 gals and one old guy
Lusting after me and I know why.
I am a Congressman,
I am a Republican,
And they know what that means.
It means big money in my jeans.
Big money for partying hardy
And if the ****** are smarties
They will kiss a lot of fat ***
And never rebuff a single pass
Made at them, no matter how rudely.
They will see it as their womanly duty
To make me feel that I am great
And lick on my head of state
If so ordered, and quickly,
Even if it makes them sickly
Because I am a Congressman,
And also, I am a Republican.
As such, I am special and divine
So there is no societal line
That I should not ever cross
Because I am now the boss
And you people that voted for me
Are the biggest fools in history.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
He was a bull goose ******
And he always was to begin with
So how did you get in the groove
To think he would improve
As if electing him to office would
Turn him magically good?
No matter how much we booed
This country is now *******.

And the sad thing is that many
Had to stay home for this *****
To get to win the whole race
Instead of being put in his place.
So, now are facing the possibility
Despite all reasonable credibility
Our fine and beloved old nation
Is facing humiliating obliteration.

Those of us who have survived
How our country got so swived
That it has taken nearly a decade
To clean up the mess Dubya made
Know this sense of fear and outrage
We felt in that scary bygone age.
We know terror is back once again
To drown us in that same fen.

It is spooky and amazing
The swath the GOP is blazing
With their hatred of common folks,
Their slurs and ****** jokes
All aimed to ****** freedom
By spouting lies they call wisdom
While millions of fools believe crap
All unaware their rhetoric is pap.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
He was the meanest kid on the playground
If the kid he picked on was half of his size.
He abused his playmates if they were weak
Had freckles or wore glasses on their eyes.
He was not a handsome lad in any way.
It was almost like he took it out on the world
That none of the guys wanted to play with him
And he seldom got lucky with the girls.

There was the slightest hint of intelligence
But it was always of the devious kind.
Nobody ever thought this kid would turn out
To be the type to make fortunes with his mind.
Taking little kids lunch money from them
Was why he even went to school each day.
If he looked a bit older and wasn’t lazy
He might just have hid out and run away.

He didn’t play ball or do any kind of work
And his mom waited on him hand and foot.
You could tell when he reached legal age
He’d find a woman who would follow suit
And treat him like a six foot baby brat
As if he was a gift to the whole world.
Of course he was in luck there because
It’s easy to hook up with  that kind of girl.

At work he will call all the women sweetie
And soundly slap his cohorts on their backs.
He’ll always remember his boss’s birthday
It pays to keep the important things on track.
If he can block a promotions of co-workers
Who are not Caucasian and Christian,
He will stick to his hidebound beliefs
And stick to ideas of The Dominion.

And if this reprobate ever has children
They will grow up to be just like him;
They’ll subject siblings and playmates
To their own temperament and whim.
Because bullying is passed by parents
From their parents to their own children.
And bullying adheres to no rules about
Morality, propriety, intelligence or wisdom.
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