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Jay M Mar 2019
Those cold dead eyes,
Tell me what they see,
Can you tell me why,
Tell me why I wish to...
Join you!
Join you!

Reach out, to me,
Tell me, what do you see?
Can you tell me what's,
Hiding within you?
It's inside, breaths burning,
Like the fire in your eyes,
Telling of all those lies,
Bringing forth your demise,
A prize for the vengeful.

- Jay M
October 24th, 2018
Michael Ryan Sep 15
You can't do anything without the right thought.

Buddy, ole boy, or girl.

Doesn't that make too much sense,
you'll be unable to do a thing -
unless - unless you get hit by a train
a ******* void needs to land right inside of you.

A mystical being is coming for your mind,
and they are cracking skulls.
All in the prayer, that you'll figure out
that nothing from nothing is NOTHING.
Think something - think.

Beg, gravel, google
(The word is grovel, Google told me that.)

Drugs aren't words,
Netflix is inspiration,
Twitter can be a placebo,
and these can be your infinity.

Jokes pre 2000.
Memes post colonization.
Capture. Hold. Choke. Make a house pet.
Loved, but no companionship.
A corner, house plant, no sunshine necessary.

Agree with me.
or not,
I'd rather You struggle.

At least that way.
You'll fight to have your own thoughts.
No one can do anything unless the thought comes to them.  Even if they do, they'll have to use it, or one day it's going to be gone. The moment passed, and once again they are alone.
Bhill Aug 20
who belonged to this heart
beating all alone
alone in the middle of a crowd
was it a he or she
how can you tell when striped of all protection
all coverings gone and naked among the masses
we can tell that this heart is alone
invite the heart to join in and welcome its independence
we all need
we all need to belong

Brian Hill - 2020 # 229
Who?
Blind Eye Dec 2019
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https://dennislaj.wixsite.com/website
Äŧül Sep 2019

Train yourself in the barracks,
Hurry up and become the monster,
Every monstrosity needs a reply.

So they told us in the school,
Only the mission was to bring peace,
Lying to us they were every time,
Daring us to learn armament,
It's so coughing wretched,
Especially weeding out the innocence,
Rising to become what they want us,
Succumbing to the pains we are not.

First, you lock and load,
Edge closer out in the open,
Even the scores with radical Islam,
Low you lie like the predator waiting for its prey.

Targeting the innocent people at times,
Razing their homes to the ground,
Alas, it's a necessary sin we commit,
People we **** are not just terrorists,
Perplexed by the horrors of war,
Even though we get nightmares about it,
Damsels in distress we are not.
Make love, not war.
My HP Poem #1771
©Atul Kaushal
we are words stitched together to make a skin
while the ink is our blood
our brains?
just a bunch of cameras monitoring whats around us
in such meaningful exaggeration

we are poets
we are alive

@jasminedryer
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
far cry to belong
hearing the cry of a poet's song
may I join this elite group
my thoughts are flowing like soup
there is no more outlets
for my mind's full of countless
words at my fingers
and so they linger
in fear that they won't be heard
My entry into hellopoetry.com
Paylei Rose May 2018
You know I have never learned to dance
But when the music comes on my body starts moving
Sometimes like a ballet, sometimes tap
Sometimes a mix of everything in between
I don't care if people laugh, maybe they'll even join
If I can get them to dance
Maybe they will see the joy
But tonight I will just grab your hand
And hope you come along
For this is a little dance
And this is a little song
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