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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 *******

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.
np Feb 2020
our relationship took a quick turn for the worst
the corner was too sharp, we overcorrected-
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,


that's just what sisters do...

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
Jonathan Oct 2018
That got your attention
Didn't it?
Even though I am a stranger
Who couldn't possibly know it to be true
And worth is subjective
Those who know you would disagree
And point out your merits
And you would weigh yourself
To realise that not all parts are equal
Who am I to say such things?

And yet you take the time to read it
Reread, incase you misread
In reading you contemplate it's truth
You are my puppet, and me your puppeteer
How could you be such a sheep!

Why are you amused?
Why does insult carry more meaning than praise?

It's easy to hurt.
Sticks and stones may break your bones
But words can make you think you deserved it.
We are social beings and so
We look for validation
But insult stands out
It leaves a branded mark in our brains
And so we spotlight it

It's easy to be sad.
But it's fulfilling to be happy.
Being positive is hard
But it's worth it in the end.

How could I possibly know?
I couldn't.
But I do.
And soon you will too.

What are you doing now?

You are reading!

Now you are smiling.
You're Wonderful

Inspired by Dennis Willis's "You Are a Hallucination"

Sticks and stones line borrowed from xkcd's comic.
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