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Graff1980 May 31
With a little help
from richer family
and friends
I could live on
the high end.
I could follow
fashion trends,
find a fabulous mansion
and go dancing
with actors and
their model companions.

Just three steps up on
the social ladder,
I could become
a capitalistic
and conquer
all the lesser men
who are barely
to compete

I could plant
golden trees
which spring
in perpetuity,
and my annual returns
would cause others
to yearn and burn
in jealousy.

I could leave all
the human suffering,
as I detach from the facts
of human empathy
taking all the pleasure
for me
and leaving nothing
for the rest of humanity.

Then I could run
to become
and pretend to make
America great
while I continue to take
more and more for me.
Yenson Sep 2018
The clone walks and enjoys such wrongful adulation,
Urban myths, falsehoods, lies, such awful fabrications
Knowledge is power make sure its transmogrification
Smears and stench is vital to put our clone in isolation
Defamation and slander in abundance not in moderation

The real man looks awestruck at this nefarious transformation
Sees truth murdered and honesty and decency held in toxic strangulation
Humans have a greater propensity for lies, its has much richer fascination
Lower minds desires basic mental gratification not tedious logical education
They want no news about joy and do-gooders, more about sick disfiguration

The Real Man sees his unblemished life soiled and tainted to sorrowful extinction
To look innocently becomes wantonly ******* women and gals, a ridiculous insinuation
Innocent speech to primed recipients takes on salacious unintended
bent and corrosive modifications
His just and precise actions mangled and their gross interpretations begets their erroneous  illustrations
Clone now walks with character traits and form  far from nothing like The Real Man's true disposition

Then news by lovers now state the Man is the best ever ***** passions without constatation
Not one or two or three ex loves now talks of a smooth hard soft Dolphin and swimming in hot magical elation
Passion, style, rhythm, rock and roll unsurpassed in lustful cool sexxy celebrations
Alas, We can't damage this real prowess so just demonize and ******* and ruin his physical reputation
Talk dirt, turds, talk stupidly about water and no *****, angry little men scream  and stomped in exasperations

Well, Clone shares same as the Man's famed ding ****, and even though hated lives in some females imaginations
And became a guilty secrets and fantasy lover for some knowing ladies when in relaxations
Think of that Charismatic clone with that  magnificent hard pole close and tight in amourous actions
All ready a bone of envy and dread for their menfolk, their worst fears now lives in their women's vivid minds realisations
My clone now makes sweet passionate love with my tool to different moisty **** ladies with my deft cool moves in delightful motions.
While the real Man is banned to loneliness and sentenced to involuntary abstention
My lucky clone is rampantly *******, licking and ******* in fantasy lands from imaginations to vivid imaginations

There you go Clone..Yeah!..move it..darling, yah! move it!....that's it! Wow!!...Oh..Oh...Oh.....,!
Throw me to the wolves and I will return leading the pack.

The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.

It’s not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit.

You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.
Srijani Sarkar Mar 2018
Raindrops forget to
a drop
dropping slowly
the rain forgets to stop
a plop of blood in the ocean of firestorm
now death opened
like an unturned boat in the
middle of the world
to receive the last plummet of hope,
last blessing
in a humane drop from above
the above has
no rain for the next season
the winds are afraid to return.
Save Syria. Save humanity. Save the word 'save'.

Notice the stutter in the poem due to fear.
Ami Shae Jul 2016
How did it happen?
How did every human being
on the planet
become so broken,
so ill equipped to deal
with the realities of life?
How did it happen?
What turned me into one
who cannot fathom bliss
one who cannot see even a sliver of light
on a dark, cloud filled day?
How did it happen?
I look everywhere for just ONE,
just one positive, caring soul
who has FAITH in this world
that mankind will not consume me
and all else that lives
upon this earth of ours.
How did it happen?
No where is there relief
from pain, from fright, from inhumanity
and cruelty of heart--
all I see anymore is hate and fear
and a collected effort
to simply destroy all.
How did it happen?
by Ami Shae
I look around and all I see are selfish, cruel humans who care nothing about anyone but their own private agendas... sorry... I think Trump has fried my brain and seeing him makes me see only the bad, the horrific, the inhumanity that exists. I promise you this, if he becomes our President, no one will ever see me in this life again. I will be completely and utterly done. Yes, I'll vote, I just hope our world will continue on...
Pauline Morris May 2016
The atoms around me are exploding
My body is eroding
Every particle of me is floating
It's all in my DNA coding
Starting my ascent
This I will not circumvent
Now I'm out in outerspace
Up to the great fates
The vibrant colors around me swirl
I'm no longer a person, no longer a girl
I am particals, I am pieces, I am atoms
Floating around like a phantom
Ground down so much I am star dust
Pushed along by the cosmic gust
Destined to land in another galaxy
Far away from all the inhumanity
Pauline Morris May 2016
There in the belly of the city
Way down there where it's dark and gritty
Lives a very complexe man
There in his Window he stands
Watching the atrocities that parade down his street
He's seen the dealer's and the junkies meet
The homeless that set at their feet
The thugs that prey on the weak
Children abused that turn them meek
It plays out every day of the week

He's seen it all
He's watched humanity fall
It's hard for him to digest
On this life's problems his mind rest
He knows there's not much that he can do
He watches and writes it all down, he's one of the few
Sent to bear witness to the inhumanity of man
To make us think of where in this life we stand

Yes he is a poet
His watched it all and wrote it
He has a big heart
Which makes it hard to play his part
Of watcher in the tower
As those below cower
But his calling he is sure of
To watch the dying of love
To watch the darkness closing in
To watch all of man's sin
To sound the alarm
Of humanity going wrong

He stands at his Window and cries out
But no one pays attention to his shouts
So he soaks the page with ink and tears
Hoping that at last somebody hears
Rudra Sharma May 2016
Neither there's a place i am willing to visit
Nor there's a world i would love to be in.
Honestly, I have found a mother's womb
The safest place to be live in.
In this cruel world a soul is safe in the mother's womb only.
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