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Mark Parker Dec 2014
Such a cruel world.
Born to cry
Raised to weep
Whipped to work

You next class starts in a minute,
better not be late for the bell,
because the bell tells you
where you should be.

Work work work.
What ever happen to nap time?
Thinking about our school system. I understand being on time and turning in work, but punishment for effort isn't a good method of learning.
Kelsey Dec 2014
It's just another ****** up  Friday.
I've cried 3 times today. Hard.
I got home and tried to open up to my dad for the first time in years.
Then he got ****** at something I said 4 days ago.
I thought we were over it.
We didn't talk for 2 days.
Then he started talking like everything was okay.

I wish when people asked "Are you okay?"
That they would want a real answer.
But no one in this world cares.
It's cold and dark and cruel.
I'm so over high school.
I'm so done.

I'm just so done with everyone and everything.

I hate life.
Right now, it hurts to breathe.
I tried to **** myself a couple of weeks ago,
Took a couple of pills.
I'm waiting for my dad to go to sleep so I can take more than I did last time.
Last time didn't work, because I'm still here.
And I wish I wasn't.

Merry Christmas.
It'll be a good new year.....because I hopefully won't see it.
Sarah M Gillihan Dec 2014
I’m fighting this war

Behind my closed door

I sit on the floor

It’s happening more

More than before

It eats at my core

Behind my closed door

It’s a painful ****** war

I look at the clock

It’s late

And I can’t stop

I rock

Tears falling from my face

And I can’t stop

I slice

I burn

And pick up the pace

There’s no more flesh

Just a river of red

The pain is unbearable

So I crawl into bed

It’s 8 o’clock

I head to school

Wearing long-sleeved shirts

Because I am so cruel

Cruel to my mind

And more to my body

It’s an endless war

That I won’t win

Behind my closed door

Let the night begin.
ARI Nov 2014
Mirror mirror on the wall
Why must you make me see it all

From the bags beneath my eyes
To extra fat upon both thighs

Every scar that marks my skin
From where I start to where I end

Why must I hear your laughter
Your cruel thoughts and evil chatter

Twisted words that break my heart
Come from you; they tear me apart

-ARI
aubrey sochacki Nov 2014
you were born
with a pure light
lied over your body,
that was soon
corrupted by sin
and hatred for
your own kind,
hatred for
human beings
just like you,
society taught
you to hate
anyone different
than yourself
anyone who
may look different
or smell different
or even live different,
society robbed you
of your freedom
to choose who
you loved and
who you trusted,
society robbed you
from getting to know
the people who
may have been
exactly what
you needed in
this cruel life.
i left this poem without a title, because i feel like the title takes away from the meaning of the poem. if i were to put a title it would put a label on it, and make you feel a certain way about it, therefore this poem will remain untitled.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
Raven knows a charm,
A child's costume jewelry,
  .  .  .  Colours a black eye.
Loki, from Scandivavian myth, a mischievous and sometimes evil God.
Edna Sweetlove Oct 2014
Goodnight ******
You fill me with sorrow;
Goodnight ******
You might die tomorrow.

Grunts and farting make me quite forlorn
But with each dawn I feel new-born;
Goodnight ******
While I'm deep inside you.

Goodnight ******
Let me lie beside you;
Goodnight ******
O what fun to ride you.

Goodnight ******,
Straightjacket enfold you,
Strong enough to hold you,
Goodnight ****** goodnight.
Sing this to the tune of "Goodnight Sweetheart" - it will make your neighbours laugh a lot.
Edna Sweetlove Oct 2014
Philip was genuinely loathsome:
Utterly and totally loathsome.
Repulsively ugly, a stunted repellent dwarf,
Vicious, rude, unfriendly, possibly illegitimate.

He was sarcastic without being amusing,
Always ready to make a cruel remark,
Forever looking for ways to score
And to show his own imagined superiority.

He cleverly managed to make more enemies
Than most people have spots on their back.
The nicest thing I heard anyone say about him
Was "Philip's not all that bad, surely?"

O happy day when I received an email from a mutual friend
To say that Philip was thankfully dead
And pushing up the proverbial daisies,
Breathing silently through the grass.

Surely one should not hate the recent dead,
But for Philip I made an exception:
I wanted to know how much he had suffered,
I prayed that his was not a gentle death.
This was inspired by the recent demise of someone I didn't like very much, to be quite honest.
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