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Gordon Warren Jun 2014
We both met each other and both our lives were changed.
The future could be better, but the past it still remains.
Today we were together, but your ghosts were in the room.
Haunted by the memories that never leave alone.

People beating you and knocking you around.
Abusing your body, doing you down.
Saying hurtful words that stick in your gut.
Making you feel bad, no future, no luck.

Some might want to change you, to mould you, to sculpt you.
To fit their own image, to copy their model.
But you can only be you if you believe in yourself.
You can be so beautiful if you trust in who you are.

What’s inside is what really shines through.
You’re a beautiful person, don’t do yourself down.
You’re caring and honest, warm, bright and real.
Believe in yourself, for you are what you are.

But you are what you are, not how others might see you.
You can only be you, not what others might want.
You’re not an illusion, a dream or a vision.
Be proud of who you are, believe in yourself.

Copyright: Gordon Warren (1990)
Rochelle R Jun 2014
Lest you find yourself amongst the bones,
Mask your face and quiet your soul.

Flock in lines of the mundane and meek,
Zip your lips, peacful keep.

This genocide of individuality is perverting our kind, incestually.
Perfect patterns, mechanically, processed, soundly.

The flawed are pushed aside,
The individuals are boxed up, shipped out, Pariahs.

So, don your masks, one and all!
Suit up, and watch your sheeple fall.
Waiting in the car. Pariah is my favorite word... Of the day.
MBishop Jun 2014
They tell you to smile all the time
But then wonder why the hell you're smiling all the time, saying it makes you look suspicious

They tell you to tilt your head and you'll see things a little bit different
But then wonder what the hell is wrong with your neck

They tell you to speak your mind
But then wonder why the hell you're not shutting up

They tell you it's okay to be different
But then wonder why the hell a guy's wearing make up

They tell you to follow your dreams
But then wonder why the hell you're always sleeping

They tell you to stand up for what you believe in
But then wonder why the hell you refuse to sit down

They tell you all these goddammed double standards
But then wonder why the hell you don't listen
CP May 2014
I am not just my fathers daughter
Please can we slaughter
This idea that we belong to others
I am not another's

I am not just my mothers daughter
Please can we alter
This idea that we are not whole
I am not a doll you can control

I am not just someone's girlfriend
This view must end

Why do I have to defend this dead-end?
I recommend you look again
My fire has awoken, yet
You lit your cigarette
Has my individuality become a threat?
Please do not forget
I am not just a silhouette

                                           I am **someone
Forgotten Dreams May 2014
You people think I care,
When you call me these names.
You think I haven't heard them all before.
But I will only ask one question,
If you are not a ****, and I am not like you,
Does that mean I am a ****?
Because yes I'm not like you...
It's not exactly a poem, more of a reaction .... but it is true for everyone out there that gets called names...It says a lot more about the name-caller than the you
armon May 2014
I was a no name worker bee
Yet I had a million bees all working for me
I was a caryatid, house wife, never had the life of a queen
Stole my honey from the wasps with the wax in their wings

I was a comatose burn victim
I could hear the nurses whisper sanctum sanctorum!
They fed me nutrients and cleaned my ******
They either didn’t care or they didn’t think I could hear them

I was alive when the lightning struck
But I was dead by second, to survive my luck
I wasn’t anything special
I was a mass produced individual

They had no names worth knowing
They had no future where they were going
And I never thought twice about what I did
The quiet megalomania of a caryatid

And then my patience turned to rampage
I took a page from Genghis Khan
I wanted the roaches gone
I hatched suburban escape plans
Because my angst was delayed
A generation late & afraid

Now in the presence of the gods and goddesses
And in the confidence of infinite this is
Another power grab a singularity
Another force to fight reverse polarity

I’m all about the lust and not the wander
I am the lingering presence of a long goner
I’m here to clarify the **** of daughters
The spider stink in the breath of fire

If we could **** for utility instead of a performance to showcase our species’ ability
Then we’d be hunted by viruses
The gods and goddesses with the instinct to extinct humanity

Chaos is healthy, its part of reality, essential to symmetry, like night is to day
When life is weighed on a pendulum
Like sanctum sanctorum
The delicate faberge

There isn’t anything to bother with on top of the monolith
I’m shouting mantras from the mountain peak

There isn’t any time to practice with a modern creation myth
A lullaby in a language I don’t speak
Amitav Radiance May 2014
The multitude is flowing ahead
Teeming with dreams and hope
Crammed, with little place to move
There is dearth of space in the mind
Physically, we are reaching fatigue
What do we have for choice?
The power to choose is taken away
Our choices influenced by publicity
Duplicating a parallel world of feel good
Yet, deep down we are queasy
Something is not right, not identifiable
Blinded by the dazzles of show- biz
As if, all the actors are being directed
Chosen to play a role, not ours to choose
Memorizing written scripts, to deliver
Speeches which are not ours, we feel
Our dreams invaded, and manipulated
Our originality, suppressed in the makeup
Masquerading, our inner thoughts and ideas
Repeating the same role everyday
Delivering the scripted dialogues
Keeping in mind that we are here for audience
Our originality and individuality torn apart
Our original script has gone down the shredder
Who has the energy to pick up the pieces?
To join, the strewn dreams and live in a new way
We are just a created avatar, directed, indirectly
Of what we love, wear, eat, and live our life
Swept away by the waves of multitude
Individuality is relegated to the dark confines
Where can we start searching, our real counterpart?





© Amitav (Radiance)
Shane Oltingir May 2014
I know that you look up to me;
For one, because I'm six feet tall,
But I think that I have done my best,
To keep you safe -- away from all,
The little things that ****** me up.

For you are young: with scathing tongue,
Opinions you cannot express,
A lack of words,
And fear of hurt,
And are yet to fully comprehend
The singing of your encaged thoughts.

But listen to me little sister,
I cannot be your wall forever,
For, one day, you will draw your sword
And embark upon your own endeavour,
To quell the beasts that hide within.

You will only ever need these words,
And the gumption to unleash their rage,
To part the seas of social norms,
To dispute the words on any page,
But I warn you; they bring trouble.

For one day, little sister, I
Will lie a living corpse in bed,
Encroached upon by inner beasts,
Of longing, love and loneliness,
But I assure you, you are safe.

For I was one who did not speak --
Until the world was tucked in bed;
So when the world lends you its ear,
Discard the lines that they want read --
And tell them what your brother said:

*******.
Heliza Rose May 2014
In the sea we call the world you have two choices

You either float and let yourself be seen for who you are

Or you try to blend in and end up being swallowed whole
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