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Trinkets Jan 25
a solid basis of conflict
between generations
is the blame game thinking
“if only, then”
meant only to distract
from the hopelessness of knowing
“not now either”
You always beat me
At every game we played
So when I broke your heart
It was only natural that
You'd shatter mine
Effortlessly
Checkmate
Trinkets Dec 2024
Look, here is a puzzle.

A mystery for you to solve.

You don't have the answer?

You're meant to have them all.

Just read the signs, in faces, reach out,

but never call. Don't ever ask the questions,

that's against the rules. You are the only one

that find the silence cruel. Only you find it to be

troubling. Everyone else can play this game, no problem.
Valentin Eni Dec 2024
Once,
they played in yards,
stick swords and plastic guns,
mud-streaked faces,
laughing in the sun —
their joy alive, their hearts still warm.
they built forts from blankets,
imagined war as a game,
their laughter ringing bright —

But now —
Helmets cage hollow skulls,
dead eyes made of cold glass,
stone faces locked in a grimace,
marching in perfect sync,
a death-walk of men who forgot how to live,
boots crunching dreams into dust.

This is not a game.

Their hands now, hideous hands,
clench steel that tears mothers open,
splits children’s laughter into screams,
fingers like claws on triggers,
twitching with mechanical precision.

They sow death like seeds,
but nothing blooms —
only fields of twisted bodies,
limbs splayed like broken dolls,
smoke spiralling into the sky,
a sky that they pretend not to see.

This is not a game.

A little girl clutches a doll’s arm,
her brother’s blood still warm on her cheeks,
while the soldiers, these shattered souls,
paint walls with terror —
a grotesque mural of hate and ruin.

They move like zombies,
flesh wrapped in cold commands,
feet dragging through ashes of innocence,
mouths silent, eyes empty,
the light inside them
long since extinguished.

Flesh burns.
Buildings crumble.
Old mothers wail, their voices
splitting the sky —
cries of grief-torn ghosts,
pleas unheard by machines,
hearts replaced by circuits,
thoughts reduced to orders.

I see them.
I hate them.

Machines wrapped in flesh,
monsters programmed to ****.

They were children once —
soft, human, whole —
but they chose this path.

Now, they trudge through fields of ruin,
crushing love beneath their heels,
dragging the stench of death behind them.

A world devoured by horror.
Glass eyes blink,
and with each blink,
another life shatters.

It’s blood on their hands,
it’s death in the air.

This is not a game anymore.
I created a song using Suno AI. If you’re interested, please follow the link. Does anyone know how to make links clickable?

https://suno.com/song/037ea46b-8bc4-4cfa-aae0-edfff8f27333
KHY Nov 2024
my fingers are laced in a chalice
of drugs that **** my sensations.
i used to resist them as a loner—
until the white coat angel
ignited my fouls with
radio-**** tweaking.

now i sprawl in expiring
fictions that come anew
and reprint their additives;
making me a king
of numbers, of colours,
of game.

until my world is all
mold and brain.
Stacey Nov 2024
I'm okay,
But I'm not okay with this.

I'm not okay with
the burden of having
a string constantly tied to my mind.

A string twisting and tugging,
showing and comparing,
validating and devaluing.

I'm not okay with
being concerned with the opinions of everyone -
how anyone can decide my worth
with the press of a tiny red heart.

I'm not okay with
playing the game,
being played by the game,
and inevitably losing the game.

I'm not okay with
being a slave -
happily forgoing my wages
for a selfish,
deeply greedy,
abusive,
master.
My struggle with social media
Todd Sommerville Nov 2024
I touched her and she ran.
 Not far away,she didn't run to leave,
she ran to stay.
Just to the edge of where my eyes could see.
Hovering there in the periphery,
somewhere between hope and illusion.
She haunted me.
 No,Hunted me. 
A cat with great skill, lying in wait its ****.
(OH WHAT A HUNTER I THOUGHT MYSELF TO BE.)
I touched her and she ran, not so far as when first began.
It happened again at least a time or two.
As I was starting to understand,
It came to me,
(Stupid Man)
Don't you see?
 She's caught you.
Jennifer DeLong Nov 2024
You are daring and fun
You draw me in
I can't resist
I can play
I give it right back
sacarastic & flirty
You wanna try
I give it right back
Call me mouthy
Whatever
I can see
see what's going on
I got ya baby
Wanna play
Let's play
Dam he's ****
I like this game
© Jennifer L Delong 11/2024
QueenOfTheAshes Oct 2024
Say it as it is
But don't make it bad, please!
Sprinkle some pretense
On filthy truths and common sense.

Reality as it is
Let us sugarcoat it, please!
Let us masquerade ourselves,
Pretend we have a chance.

If evil wears your name
And has got the hang of this game
Do I say it as it is
Or catch myself freeze.

I've seen the truth
And I've seen the youth
And I'll be ******
If I don't get to watch your end.
Morgan Howard Oct 2024
Let's pretend that I'm perfect
That I'm beautiful
That I'm happy
Let's pretend that I don't cry
In the shower late at night
That I'm not lonely
That I'm not scared
Let's pretend that I'm not broken
That I don't hate everything
That everything isn't always my fault
Let's pretend
That everything will be ok
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