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No one has ever taken a chance with me
Some have danced with me
But most are quick to be real slick
And change their stance with me
Fake people making noise
And playing games
Calling names, pointing fingers
And placing blame

Little realize
While they're fixed on displacing shame
All this nonsense stays constantly
Suspended through my veins

They burst open with the worst notions Contorted emotions to mass explosions
Like mixing large proportions of gasoline
Fire driven moths-to-flames

And my response is to conjure
Create, contemplate, and maintain
So please run along and carry on
Like you never knew my name
Because saying it will curse you
When you mention it in vain

Don't react or erupt like 'this' was abrupt When you never said 'this' to my face
Don't act surprised or try to hide it
Like you missed it or tried to fight it
Like you have any right to deny it
Now that you've finally been erased

I'm tired of all the back-thens
And back-whens
You're a has-been, and I'm laughing

Coming out of the woodwork
Some leaving without a trace
Like a blank space could ever replace
Everything you didn't make work

In the end we didn't mend
So I guess I wasn't worth it
At best we could jest, try to forget
Let's say that I deserve it
I wasn't perfect and then again
I'm not a ******* servant

Should I reword it?
Use different verbage?
Change my perspective respective
Of your verdict on the time spent?
I wouldn't know
Because you never showed
And I'm too busy living in ('this') moment
******* all.
Edward Dec 2018
I must go.
As I turn, I see,
Hidden by my eye,
A blossom.
A beautiful, fragile blossom.
But the tree is dying.
I must go.
I feel Empty

whatever i see

there's nothing

there's a hate

and i dislike it

whatever it is

it's a humilation

and i cant get rid of it

because of bad things around me

and it was so imperfect

that i can't take it off

it sticked to my head like a glue

i have no ******* clue

what was about to happen

My Eyes have burned

like i'm in hell

Whatever i wish they die

In that Maggot-filled well
This is my very first poem that i have written in a short amount of time.
Harry Kelly Jul 2018
So often
Going through the day
Minding my own business
and people feel the need to intrude.

Smoking outside my building
Just want silence
One of the local talkies comes over
Going on and on
Sciatica pain he says
On and on
and on and on

“Probably emotional” I tell him
He did not like that
Most people don’t
When you suggest there is something
more going on
Than they are willing to face.

But I have decided
If they want to intrude
on my solitude
I don’t have to chew it.
Axel Jul 2018
For eons untold I have watched you rise and fall. Build empires and break them. Cure diseases and be ailed by them. I have watched you commune in many religious ways… watched you slaughter for your faith. Now that the darkness has dawned, finally I have come, soaring towards you.

As the farmer brings his harvest home, the librarian pores over long forgotten a tome, whilst the piper flutes a final tone. Echoes from my insides a most peculiar and maddening drone.
Too long soils you have stained with blood, bygone your time of breeding. Your cancerous race, your viral existence… Put out of its misery soon enough.

I soar, adorned in shrouds of doom and gloom, my wings blowing frigid winds and blotting out the moon. Unseen horror, hidden in the darkest nooks of your feeble minds. The stalking predator that lurks near the sheep pen. Crypt born from the graven mounds of a long stained and rotten memory. Ancient pillars carved for me, worshiping us.

No atonement can there be for the existence of human sin. Only to rend and tear your fleshy vessels. In a nuclear chaos confounded to the self-made oblivion, the blindfold to not see, the unutterable horror that is me…

Flee…


If it makes you feel safe and sanctified. You will feel my leering gaze and gaping maw wherever you may hide. Sleep will creep upon you somehow.

Like in times of old, there are some stories they left untold. To prevent further damnation and total extinction, the worship of the gods of all creation. Floating in a sea most nebulous, blackened and foul, adrift outside of the play garden of time and space, there live things without a face.

The piping of mad flutes a harbinger of my coming, a blazing star to wipe the slate clean. Not even a faint echo will remain.
Go out while you can… Walk hand in hand into extinction as brothers and sister, opting out of a raw deal. The last midnight for the human race…

A cancerous vile growth that only thrives for our amusement…
Harry Kelly Jun 2018
Will Rogers used to say he never met a man he didn’t like.
I admire people like him.
But I’m not one of them.
I meet people I don’t like every day.
It just happens.

Little Grudges, my friend Sal used to say.
“You have a lot of little grudges.”

My neighbor for example,  banging the trash can lids
Outside my window
Two in the morning
Not that it woke me up
But I get up to look
Peek down there
Naturally nosey person that I am
And he’s pushing pushing
What in hell is he pushing at that hour?

So, Will Rogers I am not.
I probably wouldn’t have liked him either.
SangAndTranen Mar 2018
Evacuate the cockpit,
Give me the joystick,
I am the one in control.

Enough of your decisions,
Enjoy my dominion,
This is what you deserve.

You don’t need to speak,
Go join with the weak,
I am not listening.

Don’t give me your emotion,
My plan is in motion,
There is nothing you can do.

How does it feel?
Your fate is sealed.
Helpless just like me.

See, I am weakest upon this ship,
My esteem drains drip by drip.
But you don’t know that.
Because I am in control.

Divide and conquer,
Narcissistic, off my rocker,
I am your ruler now.

Don’t look me in the eye,
Shut up and stand in line,
I. Am in. Control.
Dunno what this is about. What do you reckon? Could be literal, could be a metaphor...
Morgan Francis Mar 2018
i'm so misanthropic
i barely like myself
i hope that some day
we'll all be rotting in hell
and i know it's not fair
and i know it's not kind
but **** this ****
i just wanna die
see? i told you i started writing again
Morgan Francis Mar 2018
Some day
It'll all be over
No more people
No more thoughts
No more feelings
Here's hoping
That it'll be soon

I'll drink to that
I haven't written in months, but my misanthropic nihilistic depression has gotten me back into it. More depressing poems coming soon.
it’s not that my eyes
we’re wide awake
to the merriment
of misanthropy

it’s that I was tired
of holding onto
one sided relationships
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