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Tanya Louise Aug 2021
The pain you caused
I'll never let it fade
The ache that
makes me feel this way

Don't forget all you've said
regret what you've done
I'll remember how you made me hurt

Not just emotionally
Physically,
Your hits caused all these troubles
You've turned our family to rubble

The love you have for yourself
Let it fade
For if it doesn't
No space will remain

The way you glared
When you said those words
They are not of GOD
They are not of the principles
You always speak of

This is the true you
worldly you.
You are so against evil
Yet you embraced it today

Discipline,
Day by Day mantra
Left you as you did your actions

In the presence of public eyes
You made a big mistake
Your mistake

Whatever you feel,
Regret or remorse
I don't care.

All I want you to know,
This will not be forgotten
Not by me nor by others

One day I'll forgive
One day I'll forget

But remember
What you've done
and remember
He was watching.
Phil Bailey Apr 2020
I lurk on social media.
I post all day and night.
It strokes and stokes my ego
to pick a verbal fight.

When I see inspiring stories
or such videos I watch,
my cruel and vicious comments
will take them down a notch.

Oh feel my power and my wrath,
my insults, mean and shocking,
like "Loser", "Snowflake", "Re-****", "***"
(do you tremble at my mocking?)

I hate the world, I loathe myself,
my friends all went away.
Girls say I'm scary and a creep.
My rage grows every day.

My impotence consumes me,
I respond with posts of rage.
Anonymous through GMail
and my fake Facebook page.

My hatred grows as my soul shrinks
and so my spleen I vent.
Safe, deep within my bunker,
down in my mom's basement.
Sorry, that was rather dark, but I really don't like trolls.
Poetic T Mar 2020
Your rhymes were a bin bag thrown
in the trash, couldn't even write a
         sentence, dyslexia of meaning


and ****** up sentences that
    weren't even spelt write.

Couldn't even spin a line,
   as it was meant to be straight


but your words were more wavy than
                a bad perm.



  There isn't room for a failed wanna be,

                    alone in your room *******
hard,

But your more empty than the raisin
                   ***** your trying to spit out of...

Non consequential wording that doesn't flow
down stream,
                   more like your floating bloated
breath  releasing putrid gas

that stinks more than what they were belching out.


I never insult the cadavers of dead lines,

but your words were buried even before
          you opened that hurse of dead beats.

a handful of rhymes that were more powerful than
           your buried career,

sorry you were a foot in the grave even before you
                                                   opened your mouth.


Song I wrote after I used your girl..


I wasn't the one she wanted it was you,
                but I gave her what she wanted

and that never included you..

Every thing you wanted I stole,
  and gave her fake wishes that were
tarnished but she never looked beyond
                 the moment seeing the stitching
of us was more fake than the smiles I gave her.

I knew she wanted to be with you,
   but I was the salesman of woman..

While you were the boy next door, I was the salesmen
                     showing her fake dreams..

Don't worry you can have her after I've used her enough,
          I'll even trade her in for a good price..

Ye, she'll be broken..

           But everything is always defective
after I've rode it enough...

Her crown maybe cracked,
  but she'll be yours even though she'll be thinking
of me even though your in her, I'm the length
        she'll remember but she'll be your crack queen.

Now this is enough of wording.

                   and I'm moving on to the next one.
y
np Feb 2020
our relationship took a quick turn for the worst
the corner was too sharp, we overcorrected-
crash
barely surviving, holding on by a thread.
mom says we'll be okay, fighting is just what sisters do...
and I believed her
the first couple dozen times that is,
until it started to become repetitive and meaningless.

a fight about taking each others clothes,
"it's just what sisters do".

an argument about me being too sensitive and taking everything too personally,
"it's just what sisters do"

a screaming match about our lives and how vastly different they are,

how distanced

we are,

how there will always be a divide,
(you blame this on age)

but 10 years between us
shouldn't hurt

this much.

now I expect the endless bashing of my sensitivity and my emotionally driven mind

I don't bat an eye at the jealousy ridden remarks thrown in my face,

and though I can't count on you,

I can surely count on you putting me down

and holding me there until it hurts

and I let you,

because

that's just what sisters do...

right?
Sad because I have a **** relationship with my sister. I wish it could be different.
our relationship flourished for a while as we both grew into adulthood, but she lets jealousy and lack of confidence get between us. This isn't what sisters should do.
Ingram Feb 2020
I’ve been trying to string words together
in hopes a poem will be the result,
but all I have is a page of scribbles
as it laughs like an intellectual insult.
Proctor Ehrling Dec 2019
It sounded like a compliment, what you said
So I'll interpret it as "*******" instead
Proctor Ehrling Sep 2019
Demented bandit
Redundant pundit
Fun time gambit
Screaming "Bomb it!"
Vicious *****
Cannot stand it
Mend it, bend it
Maybe tow it
How it goes
It goes all wrong
It wrongs no more
More than it should
But more it could
I guess it would
But that would hurt
Oh what a ****
The world is burnt
And I feel like a picture blurt
You've censored too much
Ventured too far
Gotten all such
Answers fewer
Violent fever
Violet furor
Volatile gore
Gory tumour
Coming back to something I used to do at the beginning of my presence here: writing actual freestyles. This one conjured up in 5 and a half minutes.
S Bharat Apr 2019
The Roses

O, the Flowers lying
On the bed!
Never blame the Roses
That rise far afield and fade.
For they never lose
Their grace
Like the Flowers wilted
In the vase.

S. Bharat
Brian Yule Feb 2019
Side-eyed into silence
She settled for a sour stare
Tongue-tied defiance
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