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The idea of owning, new, tight, fresh, innocent shoes.


At first, they’re tight but slowly but surely you can make them loos

The concept itself is self explanatory

New Shoes feel so good!

Now, imagine having a new shoe every time you wanted one

Now don’t be greedy, change your shoe when it gets too loose.


Children that are unaware are the easiest prey

My temptations and impulsiveness runs deep in the mind

I saw my neighbors son, licking his lollipop from the corner of my eye at the park

I walk up to him and smile, making sure his parents aren’t looking

I put on a fake mask for him, to step foot in my trap

Once he’s in,

I make sure he’s quiet covering his mouth when he screams

After all, it is playtime and his screaming


I take him to my car and sit him in my lap
Groping every inch of him

6 year old Timmy, is tight, fresh, innocent, and new to this

My blood begins flowing and ultimately causes me to have an *******.

I unzip his pants,

I **** him

His grunts and calls for help


After I finish, I whisper to his innocent ears
“It was fun getting to know you, No one has to know about this. After all, you just came to my house for a playdate”

He responds excitingly,
“I’ll tell mommy about all the new games you taught me! What is this game called?”

I respond frantically,
“I call this game, Simon Says!
You don’t have to tell Mommy, only tell her if she asks”

At 6, Timmy was clueless, this continued for over 6 months

At one point, Samantha, my neighbor, asked her son Timmy to tell her all about my quote on quote “nephews”
he played with

Timmy responded,
“I play with Eric, not his nephews”

Samantha shocked yet hopeful asked
“What exactly does Eric make you play, Timmy?”

“We play Simon Says, Mommy! Sometimes he makes me touch his *****, other times he tells me to bend over for him, but only if he says Simon Says before the action,”


Timmy Said

I know this because at 3 AM
A group of 6 men knocked at my door with guns pointing towards my head

I was convicted and registered as a


A ******* *** OFFENDER

I’m facing 45 years to life in a 12 by 12 room next to old, raunchy, ***** men.

You see

I’m not the Eric the neighbor, I’m Timmy

I’m 19 now and I wrote a poem about you to reflect on how you changed me

I’m mad that you made me this way

But I forgive you
BUT only because I blame myself

For holding it in

For being a dumb kid

For deserving every moment of it

For following your rules

And ultimately for trusting you...

You were 38.
I was 6

Now I’m 19
And you’re 51, serving a life sentence in jail

The Devil comes to us in different ways.
Sometimes in a black draped cloth, beautiful and unforgettable. In my case, in a black t-shirt and in a new, tight, innocent pair of shoes.
I hope you enjoy! I’m nee to this so message me for any corrections
What a powerful tool
It flows smoothly
Like a river
Yet after a while
Even the sturdy rocks
Slowly break apart
Seeming so innocent
Yet with a few lines
Has my heart captivated
And I yearn for more and more
Can be so beautiful
Yet so dark
Telling wondrous stories
Or horrendous tales
Seems to be forgotten at times
Yet it only lurks in the dark
Waiting to be discovered
Waiting to make a change
What a mystery
I can't
Update: we did it!
Thanks poets for helping me unblock fawn. She was as
Em MacKenzie Aug 20
So many of us are scared,
absolutely terrified beyond words,
of being hurt.
We battle, and counteract this fear
by hurting the only person
who would die before causing pain.

This creates a vicious cycle.
The gentle, soft hearted protector
becomes the stoic, heart of stone,
destroyer of worlds.

We’re playing heartbreak telephone.
Pass it on.
“Fear leads to anger,
anger leads  to hate,
hate...leads to suffering.”
- Master Yoda
I wanna take you to the moon so that you can among all the other heavenly bodies
for your eyes project the constellations
and your smile is my favourite part of my conversations,
although I'm still down to earth and a product of humble beginnings
not a day goes by where I'm never reminiscing
on the feelings given
where I see you and I as Emperor and Empress
truth be told that it's you I try to impress
and I'm hoping that someday you won't be out of my league
maybe you could be my cheerleader
and lead all the cheers for me
Niki Gray Aug 9
Eye's haunted
not wanting to see
what the heart knows
a tragic reality.

Sweet innocent child,
Why did it have to be?
my baby boy River
and not me.
This was written in response to the drowning death of two year old River Smith the son of country music singer Granger Smith.  River drowned in their back yard pool earlier this summer.  Thank you to all of you that take the time to read my work.
You came in my life
with the words “I love you at first sight”
I should’ve known better for you had a hidden bowie knife.
Would you blame me if I believed in fairytales?
For I was so young and naive.

I did not reciprocate those feelings back,
Did you take it to your ego,
and decided to play that game?
or was that your intention all along?
Because you wore me down with kindness and care,
till I was soft and vulnerable.

Weaving your beautiful lies,
you got me to entrust my heart and soul.
Glamouring my vision over the months,
you wore down the walls
and got past the borders and guards.

You decided to take of the mask
and drop the truth like a bomb,
when I was defenseless, weak and unarmed.
For the caring and affectionate person I knew was all a facade
under which laid a deplorable and cynical soul.

Wearing me down till I was unfortified,
was a part of your maneuvering all along.
You reeled me in with care,
just so you can hurt me with a smite.

You broke my vision of what is all good in this world;
where kindness and care isn’t always itself,
but a way to get past the walls.
You made me taste the bitter after taste of those sweet words.
and scarred my innocent soul.

You broke her,
for she no longer sees kindness and care the same,
but fear the ones who show her kindness,
will do the same.
This is to the person who was never a lover but had his own motives to hurt. To the person who brought to light that words and actions aren’t always true. To the one who glamoured my vision, broke it sending a rushing aching pain through my nerves and veins. To the person who tore the petals of innocence and made me believe life isn’t always beautiful and honest. To the first person who made me taste bitterness, betrayal and pain to the core.
Pyrrha Jul 20
Justice will come when we take all the sweet innocent things and make them testify against their lies
Heard from within the static
An erratic fracture falling flat
Calling all the innocent out
Calling all the innocent out

Found whimpering in dimpled corners
Unearthing a second coming
Calling all the innocent out
Calling all the innocent out

Calling all the innocent out

by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
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