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SelinaSharday Aug 2021
By Sharday
"Old Fools"
Old crudes.. appearing as Fools gold. The Irony. When you offer joy and laughter.. and all the best to offer in kindly spoken joyful chatter.
When you only offered a sprinkle of smiles and sunshine's. A regular day by short easy breezes to fellow online unknowns you never ever met in the flesh and briefly known online.
shared with them smiles and sunshine of encouraging crispy apple finds.  To wish they smile with glee and inwardly are filled with bitter unrest.. Unknown to most of us. We only  see the clown painted hidden face. A true face of sunken holes filthy craters in mold. The corrupt soul waiting to unlease it's misery soon as the old fool see, your joyful positivity isn't gonna stay for the foolery.
How you can't be captured, in the web of rotten hell where the Old fool dwells. Just wash your hands wipe your virtual feet from where you ventured and never again there enter.
A fool full of liquor  and utterly bitter all of its own. To whom you never did any wrong. Yet the fool will claim you have. Is a stalker web  crawler, harassing fool.. Report the stalkers  harassing's  obsessing's  words of hate.  The fools mouth of polluted lies disguised as crafted blind leading the blind sorrows.
A brief encounter online in 14 days causes a fool to write so much **** poor chatter.
Obsessive, stalker, old fool, not your muse, move on fool.
Psalms 18:2 "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion." psalms 18:2
Proverbs 29:2 If a wise man has an argument with a fool, the fool only rages and laughs, and there is no quiet.
Sounds like a abusive deranged so madly insane. Type foolish, type thang. Can't find a away to stop using you in written metaphors. Like his pictures of he wish he had ******.
Keep virtual 911 on hit report speed dial,
this fool seems a virtual danger stranger chillld.
H.E.R_Poetry...#Over.It..
fools online, bitter, people, wounded, stalker, harassers, using hate, obsessed won't move on type fools.
Eric Feb 2021
Let me support you , while you hang from the cliff edge .
                   Let me congratulate you on destroying
                                      every past thing said .
                      As if it meant nothing from the start .
                  Creating misery across life, like it was art .
                               Who knew you'd go that far .
                             But guess what , I'm still here .
                        How do you explain away the scars ?
                     Do your stories , only match the ones
                                 You deemed greater then us ?
                Do you give their life pain with the feelings of
                                                                      distrust?
                                            So why only me Love ?
Norbert Tasev Mar 2020
Even after the mass psychosis of unanimously proclaimed mono-bookkeeping and stadium-building, it was not enough for plaster to cry on the snow-capped walls of life-saving public hospitals and nurseries, to swell in tears of crushed wings! "And while the past may be decisive and at the same time, the present is increasingly lying, false."

Hateful, liar-like, ***-licking oligarchs lick each other as a war of delicate pinch dogs. They fill their personalized colors with stories written in selfish ways, and Paul's great reversal will take place again. But there would be quite a few nice and admonishing examples on the sacred altar of corruption: Can't you really feel overwhelmed by the fact that you have been sacrificed for their petty career greed ?!

They have become intentional ******* juveniles for sale; a miniature community that has finally come out of a small Europe is calling for stalled industrial and technological development. And the hunger ticket is still cool if any of us decided to go shopping. In the upcoming circus, the despot porcelain master has already presented his latest vision. There is no interference, no open resistance. You can easily jump on the promised million dollar bonus!

Just no rush, and most of all, no reckless, frenzy! If many believe the cheat-negation promises of non-existent jobs and jobs: Who knows ?! "Exposed, theatrical, rope-like, we can even hear plenty more about the fierce struggles of parallel legends ..."
MisfitOfSociety Dec 2019
The night is going to come,
To take your light away.
You will set with the sun,
And you won’t rise with the day.

It doesn’t care who you are.
It doesn’t care about the colour of your skin,
It doesn’t care about your ***.
It doesn’t care if you are rich and famous,
It doesn’t care what you do.
Death will be the end of you.

In the end it doesn’t care.
It doesn’t care.

You can be anything:
A president,
A successful businessman,
A celebrity,
A beautiful person.
It will make you into nothing!

You are all specks,
Stuck to a spinning ball,
Your life means nothing,
Nothing at all!

From nothing you came,
And to nothing you will return.
You were snatched from the darkness,
By the hands of the selfish.
They’ve put you through this life sentence!

Conscious of your birth and impending death,
Unaware of what came before or what’s to come.
The Gods you created cannot save you,
When death comes to pull you down.
Watching as your fleeting life passes you by.
We are all going to be delivered back to the darkness we came from!
It is inevitable, everything will die!

It doesn’t care who you are!
Whether your rich or poor,
Death will make us equal!
This is a dark poem. It does not reflect my actual beliefs, but rather the beliefs of most.
Clay Face Sep 2019
Get beneath your peers
Crawl while in tears.
Drown inundated by consequential shame. Cause you’re the only one to blame.
Your avarice for ****** release isn’t natural.
You’ve conditioned yourself to be this abysmal.
Let your cries resonate, impregnate, and eradicate within you. A morning sickness derived from truth you will succumb to. While this truth grows and evolves within you, it will evacuate your lies behind your truth.

Sullen loneliness withers you, it’s created a monster.
One that pines for intimacy without foster.
Through this eagerness, a dull misunderstanding festers.
One where intimacy is strictly ******.
And it’s enjoyed alone on a phone, ha. How intellectual!
But the primordial need, sets you in greed.
Clear thinking leaves you, and desire is left only true.

However this brief inhuman act of disgusting ****, leaves you in a tut.
With rational thinking back after release. You’re trapped without peace.
Loneliness floods back, and on the attack, charges self reflection, without affection.
You don’t deserve affection. Just affliction.
So you grow ill from your actions.
Don’t stop this introspection. Self disgust is appropriate. So don’t take an ******.

Tenacious pithy feelings will raise your ceilings.
Embrace this self loathing. The shame will strip you of clothing. Now true to yourself and the world, unpolished and furled.
You can act on embellishments, and ignore wants and irrelevance.
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
Faithful or hateful


Faithful or hateful, the choice is yours.
I can only ever be grateful for your company ‘The one I adore’.
You’re so funny; you make me laugh like no other does.
I guess you love me.  Is this what you call love?
I am still asking the questions, never getting satisfaction.
Still searching for clarification, so here I am asking.


Are you faithful or hateful?  The choice is always yours.
You are still ‘The one which I adore’.
You showed me your light
And I was blinded by such a beautiful sight.
Your beauty thrills me;
You make my heart skip a beat.
You make me rise, to my feet,
Just to kneel down before you unworthy.
If only you could, I would ask you to love me.


I don’t know if you’re faithful or hateful.
All I know in my heart is that I will always be grateful,
For once you loved me and I too loved you
And between us two, we had something unnamed
And it could never be tamed,
Because once we were real…
Now we are only in old flames.


(C)2019 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2019
You're sure you know what's best for me
Should leave and never come back
Degrade me until I'm forced into a corner
Alone and finally attack

But you do not understand your terror
Can't see eye-to-eye
Both sides are quick to get angry
I can't hold my tongue but I try

That smirk upon lips incites rage
Not strong enough to keep it in
Not capable of letting go
You always have to win

I work with all might to be
The bigger person but fail
Talk nicely until your words turn mean
I can't help but wail

I miss days we got along
Miss ways you used to be proud
Hateful expression worn on your face
Makes me wish I could run and never turn around
To my mom
chitragupta May 2019
You may have seen me
like leaves green of a summer tree
Never cared to understand
the roots that grew beneath

You may have heard me
like the noise of a falling pin
For in your ears, naught but
your own voice is sweet melody

You may have known me
like gentle waves atop the sea-
Ignored the raging maelstrom,
but can you escape the tsunami?
We become selfless by caring for others,
yet we become careless by caring for others.
m h John May 2019
i stood over the sink
waiting for it to fill up
so i could wash
yesterday’s tears
out of my face
when suddenly
i felt your words
grab behind my neck
and submerge me underwater
i could hear every
hateful word you said
muffled beneath the water
when I pulled my head up
the sink was filled with bubbles
and that was your way
of apologizing today
until you do it again tomorrow
don’t drown in the narcissist words
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
I was treated like the VIP,
A cat and a big fish,
A hook and a big Six,
whilst visiting madam bow-peeps
rotisserie of *****,
Always receptive,
Wearing open silk
working 9 to 5am.
With a little overtime,
hot funk never satisfies,
She had the way-with-all
to feign, delight; even interest,
before negotiating the price,
Two shekels,
She was classy,
kind of slick,
she tickled my ears
for nothing more than kindness,
a small token in exchange for a smile.
She popped on a tune,
as she took off her dress.
The petting started
her two hands tugging with the zipper of my jeans.
A woman's touch... Ha HA,
the rich sultry kiss of *****,
tight and tasty;
***** like a ripe tomato,
Sugar fried and drunk.

She opened her legs,
her hair smelled like shampoo,
She was on her belly,
knees tucked up
as I took in the fruit,
deep holes filled with **** and shabby fingers,
hollow spit and angry poison,
head spinning to the groove,
loud and high,
The bed squeaked
and a single light bulb dangled
like a loose tooth,
Ten minutes and
two ******* love songs!
Sick and spent up,
I got dressed to leave,
I said with a poke,
"I couldn't get laid,
Not even in a ***** house!"
And now I'm back in the cold again,
only dirtier.
Another old poem
The inspiration from William and Don G
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