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soph Aug 2018
I sit down to write
Create beautiful prose
It’s been so long
Yet my mind goes blank
Where is my heart?
Where is my brain?
Where are my words?
There’s no passionate emotion to draw from
No inspiration
I wish my tears could fuel pieces of art
But I don’t even cry
I wish my pain could catalyze my creativity
But that pain is so repressed
This lack of feeling suits me well most times
My personality is made of jokes
My heart is bulletproof
But in poetry
There’s no inspiration
I haven’t felt like writing lately and I realized it’s because I don’t have feelings!! that’s lit
Joshua Michael Jul 2018
Now to be honest
I shall fill your mind with lies  
I'll tell you things
So I can get in between your thighs  
I'll lead you on and take your heart  
But I won't tell you is
How I'll take it apart  

Indeed I have nice eyes
A charming smile and soft lips

I'll even win you over with
my flirtatious charm

You won't see it coming
You are blind to love

I'll hold your heart in the palm of my hand  

You won't  be able to make a
stand  

When a real man comes along and tries to win your love  

He won't be able to
I'm in control,like the big man above  

You're not the 1st girl I've done this too, your one of many  

But I fooled you into thinking you were special, what a pity  

When I’m done with you, I’ll toss you aside  

Give you your heart back, but a little is still mine  

I took something special from you, that only special men should get  

But I fooled you into thinking I was special, special I'm not, far from it  

I made you miss opportunities with real love, and I'm not sorry  

I got what I needed from you, now onto the next girl I meet at a party  

You thought you meant something to me? Wow, but I'm not sorry

My buddies will get a laugh out of this one, You were just my night stand 

Something for me to take home
But now your outdated  

I got new girls to ***** over, but trust me you weren't out played yet  

Because once I had your heart
I had a taste for your genes
I used to love till it was taken, now it's there game I'm playing
Blade Maiden Jul 2018
Lying half naked in bed
thinking about all the lovers I haven't had
and sometimes it makes me mad
that they probably aren't even sad
cause there's always someone else they could have met

Filling myself up with solitary sensuality
I keep asking how much of this can be reality
when we were never one but lovers in singularity
and only in late-night-born words there was sexuality
merely a disturbance of tranquility

And as I lay there in the warmth of my solitude
Hot waters find an opening in unfulfilled gratitude
they leave my eyes, then run down my spine in some strange interlude
and I'm getting scared of an emtpy platitude
of feeling like a ****** *******

Because my spine is not endless
and neither is the beating of a heart kept loveless
I'm tired of phrases, of having to confess
to love that seems only to know how to obsess
that tries hard to be profound but then is still just heartless

I try to see some good in the fact
that my spine is therefor still somewhat intact
and beyond this tiring and ongoing act
I calm myself, 'There's still time to find', I'm committing to the pact
Harry Roberts Jul 2018
You Can ****** & Rob People All ******* Day, Its Okay They're Called Politicians.
Keep Chugging ****, You Won't See  & Its Good 'Cause You Can't Afford An Optician.
When You Get Low We'll Kick You In The Bones, I'm Sorry We Deported Your Physician.
They Hope You Get Sick & They'll Hit You With A Brick,
But They Call That Universal Credit.
-When Their Caught Out Trust The BBC To (.) Off With Their Heads & Dead It. We Have Ears & Memory Too We Really Know You Said It, Snakes Caught In Skins You Belong In The Bin, No More Mice Cause I Already Fed It.
Harry Roberts - Politicians © 20/06/18
“Honey, let me fix that -
You've got your perfidious smile buttoned up all wrong
I couldn't remove her lipstick from your shirt,
Unfortunately it's on your heartless sleeve

This is your last tie, don't cut this one as well
Refrain from wearing these pants again, just give it to her
Maybe that way she'll stay out of yours
And here's your socks, your feet has been cold for a while now

Put on your new shoes, I hope it fits,
Since you can't place yourself in my shoes
I wiped your glasses this morning,
Maybe that way your wandering eyes won't mistake her for me

Your integrity is in the last drawer of your wardrobe
It's been in there for a while now
Oh, and I see your watch is broken
Maybe that's why you don't have time for me

Don't forget your coat of sympathy on your way out
I put a bit of empathy in its pockets
There, now you're all dressed to succumb to sin
Have a lovely day, honey” ~ Demi.M Potts
For the adulters: Imagine you're on your way to work and your wife recites this poem.
Prevaricated Forth Write Declaration!

As most every girl and boy
     taught back in the day,
     or more recently going to Zerns,
     a golden age of story telling,
     when rapt listening ears
     willingly leant eager attention

     to a riveting speaker
     such as this jolly shop
     o' horror keeper learned,
     modest, and non
     establishmentarian obliging self,
     ( who even now doth still yearns)

to spin a tattling tale), this ole codger,
     who today more frequently, keenly,
     and patiently plods along
     memory lane then yesterday
     (along one, whose pathway,
     could be trekked blindfolded

     so often by foot thee trail traversed,
     (yet without ever feeling
     a sense of duff fete) over hills
     and thru woods thick
     with wary, scary,
     and Rem: markably hairy

     muppet like monsters,
     the author, who wrote
10,000 Leagues Under The Sea,
     (and other suspense filled stories namely
     the prolific writer Jules Gabriel Verne's),
vivid imagination,

     would undoubtedly have experienced
     a field day in seventh heaven
     taking wooded rough hewn
     rudimentary walkabout by turns
clear cut versus creepy simply to reach
     a one classroom per grade school,

     where masters did teach
     being apprenticed asper Art Of The Deal
     (latent within power
     to sound convincing, though "FAKE,)"
but convincing legendary
     personal myths repeated to bolster appeal

such as larger then life "Founding Fathers"
unquestionable brazen, brave, and brass
     daring deeds across the Lake
(Atlantic Ocean, whose worsted weave
     sub woofer - did make
the 6:00 o'clock news the evening

     of July 4th 1776, and thus didst spake
(perhaps with the help of Zarathustra)
yet,...the under belly
     of such bravura involved take
king (by subtle or obvious force) lands
     revered by Native Americans

leaving a trail of tears, destruction, and death
     (more accurately genocide), thus my
     (expected patriotism) moored
     within wicked wake,
hence aye avail muted tone deaf
     emotion on par with a charade

particularly, where deportees
     of late awful treatment
force me to a give a low
     (Failing) grade,
where home of the brave
     land of the free do masquerade

(or visa versa) makes a mockery,
     travesty, sham parade
AND this chap feels as if,
     he too partook of
     murerderous indigenous raid!
gabriela Jun 2018
you called me heartless
but I think you lost your heart
somewhere on the way
Austin Ryskamp Jun 2018
Dehydrated by the tears, and constricted by the fears.
Thinking of the years that disappeared out of your eyes and your ears. In almost an instant.  
              
The vows,
    
       The commitment,

Shattered like glass on stone, watching you linger your eyes to another
While I’m home alone trying to not smother you
                
                 The hope,

I have left Is a single strand, even after the pictures of you and him make my legs unable to stand
With furrowed eyebrows, I browse to find the heart you took from me.
For the first time,
I thought I had found
Solace in you!
But you were no better than,
The devil reincarnated
The one who finally turned my life,
Into wretched tormented living hell hole

When sit to think
I regret the first day
I saw you
Spoke to you
And even collected your number and know your name
I knew I shouldn’t have listened to the voice inside my head
And shouldn’t have been deceive by your beauty
But should have just left you alone

That moment my hearth began to love again
It turns out
There is no heart again to love
Only a stone that pumps blood
And I need no donor
This who I am
Because of you I am,
Worse than a leprous beggar on the street

Saw your place
And I came for you to relieve me of this curse
And torment you placed on me
But it turns out that mother nature have taken her course on you
So I am learning how to face the reality
And live with this curse and torment
My reward for loving you
STONER FOR LIFE
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