Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Stephen Nov 2018
I am,
We are
The fuel for their fires,
The sugar in their coffee,
The vulcanized rubber tires
Of their impossibly pretentious transportation.
I am,
We are
The only work they do,
The grease between their gears,
And the motor that turns them,
Round and round and round we go;
When will it stop?
I am,
We are
Their commodity;
Their work force;
Their slave.
I can,
We can
Find a new master,
Find a better master,
Enjoy slavehood,
Sing and dance for them,
Spend more and get less.
I can,
We can
Never really escape,
Never be our own master,
Never break free from the tyranny
Of their master plan:
Work, to get out of debt,
Accumulate debt, because you work,
Repeat,
Ad infinitum.
Sitting in a waiting room with twenty other men,
All waiting for the good doctor to come; and then,
I notice, we’ve been waiting for half an hour;
Some worried sick, just sitting with no power
To help themselves or others in the room;
Just waiting; and although there’s no more room,
Another one enters. No! Sorry! A pair;
Yes! Most people come with companions who care;
Or, pretend to care, and seek relief here.
They say, “He’s always late. He has nothing to fear!
He is the great doctor!” But why is he late?!
Is he watching? Is he smiling at our fate?
Or, is he sleeping with some pretty goddess?
When are you going to come Mr. Flawless?!
Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m right; but if I’m right,
We are all waiting for him to ***, right?!
Forget it. This room makes illusions shatter;
All helpless, no relief; but, does it matter?
Hossein Mohammadzade
angellica Oct 2018
she smiled, as if everything's okay,
but deep inside she's ready to melt and decay

she's keeping her hopes up, just in case
the day wont let her even have her own place

in this world seems that she's a lost stranger
she cried at night, making things worst and graver

i saw her one time, she stared at me
as if she knows my secrets and my whole entity

i sigh, she sigh and both of us cried
we bare the same scar, both of our souls now dried

i tried to touch her, but i end up hurting her instead
i ruined the beauty that in her eyes i can only read

i tried to wash away those tears, but she said "leave me here"
the chair where she used to stand now lie just beneath her

yes, i was looking in the mirror the same time i tied that rope.
Sleepz Sep 2018
Tired once again,
Bags under the eyes,
Nightmares promising that if they close it will be the last time.  

The stone presence,
A presence that's there,
Yet no longer existent.
Only in dreams,
The self provoked thoughts,
That never quit their insistence.
Ideas spread like an infection,
Blessed are those who never see the moons crescent.

The stone presence ,
Tempts a weakened voice to rise,
But what if the avalanche buries their lives?

The stone precense,
It urges the peaceful to diminish their mercy,
Who will save them from being swallowed in the chaos?

The young boy begs:
"Tell me you no longer feel,
Speak your despise against the crimes,
Express the soulish pain.
Spit out your angry sight like darts to a kite,
Explain the doubts and truths discovered,
Command to the judgment seat those to be anhilated,
Compose the reason hands shake,
Argue the reason you're gone forever,
Plead the stone presence to cease.

The war has been lost,
But suddenly the enemies are nowhere to be found,
Did they depart to another realm?
Have they joined the spirits who are unseeable?
Detection is now impossible,
To what was once ease to trace.

The young boy cries:
"I wage war! I Wage war!"

There is no longer anyone to listen,
The stone prescense is there,
Undeniably.

I need a battle,
I need a battle,
Except,
The battle has been over.
I have no longer one to raise my fists to,
My problems have evaded,
Where is change to be produced now?

Is there nothing to absorb these emotions?
The stone presence haunts me.
My anger affects no one.
Like a child I cry,
Yet there is none to feed me.
This stone presence will never leave me.
My army has lost its purpose,
There fore there's no soul in sight,
Everything around me has deserted,
Am I the stone presence?
Enjoy your hardships, once you solve them, what will be left for you to do?  Your gaining of meaningless things will only take from your satisfaction.
Tori Sep 2018
Soft, moonlit wings glide under the light of the moon,
while shadows dance on the snow below.
Flying into the unknown, breathing in whimsy,
she refuses to land or succumb to the fatigue.
But the frosty silence lulls her to sleep
with pinstriped stories delicately written onto her skin  
until her mind succumbs to the stillness

and she no longer flees from the snows embrace...
O with what heavy heart
And steaded blissfulness
Doth I burdened start
Dodge the dreaded crinkles.
My soul is aching,
Much to my chagrin
As she stands there alone,
Sullenly basking.
How I Wish to be freed
From this forsaken place
Allowed to wander by steed
At a vagabond's thorough pace.
Yearn for adventure
I shall
Through the bitter years that follow,
For I myself a lady
Stall not the humble morrow.
An infinite wait spent in solemnity .
Arke Sep 2018
it's fatalistic to believe
life provides no choices
there are two sides
to every knife
but the blade
still cuts the same
Next page