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Nite Oct 2016
There is a man
Who likes to pretend
That he's pure and holy
When really his mouth only spews out baloney

                                      These hands of mine,
                           a thousand men have bested
                                  and thrice that the ladies
                                       they have pleasured!


This man likes to wear all white,
And on his head he props a halo.
He hides his forked tongue in plain sight
With which he claims to be a fine ole fellow

                                     These friends of mine
      All shapes, all colours, every walk of life
                                             All indebted to me
                                                 Oh! Without me,      
                                     they couldn't survive!


But like the viper in Aesop's fable
Your trust he repays the only way he's able
With your paramour he'll try his luck
Rejected he'd say "All I wanted was a free ****"

                        No matter, for with any luck 
                             The old lady will let me out
          There are girls who've taken my buck
    And they'll take it again without a doubt


So of this false angel be wary
A conscience he has not
Web of lies and deceit his main plot
For he has no friends only quarry

                              *Here lies A
                     Certainly a class Act
           For when the reaper came to play
            You can be sure no one wept
Words in italics/bold by the awesome, one and only  jalc! Thank you!!! U can view more of her work at http://hellopoetry.com/jalc/http://hellopoetry.com/jalc/
Viseract Sep 2016
I could fly like the Phoenix I'm supposed to be,
At cloud height, Cloud Nine, see everything
Were it not for the ropes that hold me down
Were it not for the bloodlust, torturous sounds
Were it not for the voices in my head
That sometimes make me wish I were dead

And maybe if I wasn't so critical
Or perhaps just a little less hypocritical
Were it not for the need to be OCPD
Straighten everything, as straight as can be

Checking my back because I'm paranoid,
That someone will appear, push me in the void
And I would swirl and spin, forever trapped
With all lights off, and no time to clap

That I would be that man, the one in black
Who would self-indulge in a self-aimed attack
Who would one day slit an artery, and just lay there
And with open eyes, unseeing, continue to stare

Glaring at the world that held him down
Glaring at the grey sky that never helped him out
Angry in death at those who tormented him, bullies
Maybe I could fly were it not for these,

Things
straight outta creativity well
Randy Johnson Aug 2016
I was your supporter and now you tell me to support Hillary Clinton, you're out of your cotton picking mind.
Several weeks ago you said that she's unfit to be President, you're a hypocrite of the most fundamental kind.
How dare you tell me and your other supporters to support Hillary after you said that she's unfit.
If you were standing in front of me, I would give you a piece of my mind because you're a piece of **.
I was already upset at you but now I'm enraged because you told me to support her.
You have a lot of nerve to tell me to support that woman, you're a hypocrite and that is for sure.
Randy Johnson Jul 2016
When Bernie Sanders endorsed Hillary Clinton, he sold out.
He let his supporters down and he's two-faced, there's no doubt.
One day Bernie told his supporters that Hillary is unfit.
Four weeks later he vowed to help her get elected, he's a hypocrite.
A person is judged because of the things that he or she does.
Sanders is two-faced, he isn't the man who I thought he was.
Cweeta Cwumble Jul 2016
the doves that fly from my mouth
are simply crows painted white, plastered
with the lies i tell myself every day.

there's no master magician
behind the curtain - just a person.
a hypocritical, delusional illusion of a person.

and these sparkles that you see,
nothing but smoke-bombs and trickery,
a costume to hide the reality that i'm a sham.
Shiny Star Jul 2016
What can be sharper than any weapon?
Words?  Yes, words,
that can deport us to the hell of heaven,
which 'fcourse is worse than hell
for  it is hell in the guise of heaven,
which sets us flying high for one moment,
to be brought back down the next moment,
with the next onset of words,
when reality and truth dawns on us,
clearing off the mist in the mind.
Now while all are wondering
what in the world I am talking about,
let me tell you,
I speak of hypocrites,
I speak of those who 'think' they are witty,
who 'think' they have words flashing
across their brain,
at their beck and call,
who are painstakingly careful to plunge their
weapon coated with superficial assurance,
only to deceive straight thinkers,
And push them into the world of misery,
'N to give themselves a little tap on the shoulder,
when they succeed.
Whoa! A heartfelt success of a hypocrite!
Now I wonder in total bewilderment,
why they are exceptionally elated,
when they speak pleasing words
just before their haughty, nasty blows.
Should we call them witty
for not realizing that the person in front,
might as well be capable of such harm,
had they not considered the feelings of others?
When I see  one such hypocrite,
I have a burning desire to retaliate,
but react nonchalantly,
for I know better than to be a hypocrite.
Breanna Stockham Jun 2016
Extra! Extra!
This just in:
Hatefulness
Is the new trend.

Forget tolerance
Empathy and being kind,
Why burden ourselves
With an open mind?

So we keep our minds closed,
But we open our mouths,
Speaking of things
We know nothing about.

We're shouting hot air
With no substance to fill it.
We spread hate but preach love
Then point out hypocrites.

We blame everyone else
And claim innocence although
We're building walls
With the stones we throw.

We're so advanced
But so behind,
We've got 20/20
But we act like we're blind.
Leila Valencia May 2016
Hesitation burns so lightly
Heavily holding
This grandeous hypocrisy

Who shall pay for dinner?

Him or her ?
Questioning social norms
Viseract May 2016
I always asked if she were alright
Before I knew she wasn't
Always and always, sometimes I though it annoyed her
But to have someone must've been a relief

She began to be honest with me, said that she wasn't
She didn't cut but she hurt herself
At first I was concerned, I tried to help
By telling her to talk to a professional

She did, eventually, but by then I had gone
I guess, the stress... I couldn't take it anymore
The length of time where all I did was talk
Not capable of action, and she just kept at it

Not sure if she still does, if she does she'd say nothing
For I left her, my selfish reasons, my limits pushed
My way out of self-destruction, was only to leave behind
A girl I had grown to love

Now I destroy myself anyway
I harm myself to release myself
Stress, anger, depression or impulse
Now I see why she harmed herself
True story
Beau Scorgie Apr 2016
We're all hypocrites
preaching word of God.
It's not what you do
Monday to Friday, 9 - 5,
that interests me,
it's how you choose to spend
your Saturday nights
alone.
And more times than not,
you'll find the preachers
spanked up in a brothel
or in the neighbours bed
when the one who placed
that ring upon their finger
thought they were walking the dog.
Wear an 18 karat gold cross,
hang all the Live. Laugh. Love pictures
around the family home
and go to church on Sunday's,
but everyone knows
they sit on that prostitutes hand print
she left on his xss.
They sit lopsided too.
That handkerchief doesn't fool anyone.
They only carry it for the paranoia
that residue crack they snorted
off her chest still lingers
around their perfectly trimmed nostrils.
We're all hypocrites
preaching word of our own religions
and changing the bedsheets
every fxckxng morning.
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