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Misfitkilljoy Mar 2015
Me
Purity runs through me.
Modesty covers me.
Morals stay in me.
The world is full of evil and that scares me.
Where are all the good people like me?
Julia Aubrey Mar 2015
what if we could grasp things in our hands..?
I don't mean plain, concrete items,
I mean what if we could grasp the memories, the changing of the seasons,
and the people we love into one little item?
how long could we contain it inside such a microscopic view of abstract
morals and views?
how about that titian leaf lying around in the pile near your door?
go and pick it up.
what do you feel, hear, smell, see, perhaps even taste in the moment?
I think that in that moment when our minds have come to a conclusive point about the values grasped into something so simple,

we can hold it.

(j.a.r.)
DC raw love Mar 2015
Headstrong, yet bitten by the snake of narcotic charm...
As the venom flows, your dreams slowly begin to die
The goals, the passions, the visions begin to change
The personalty of the passionate man turns to selfishness
The confidence turns to self pity from the demon within
What was, what is and what will be, turns to nothing
The morals turn to lies, the caring turns to taking
This narcotic charm transfers itself to a necrotic death
Your family, your friends, your love, have slowly given up
You've hit rock bottom and still look for the snake's charm
It has been your pet for so long and you can't let it go
Your only have two choices, to slither in it's hole and die
The second is the *most important decision of your life
Cheyenne Jan 2015
I hate that kid with all my heart.
Wish I could tear him apart.
But morals, values, all that ****,
are keeping me from doing it.
Anonymous Dec 2014
It's late again and I'm too tired to sleep.But I've been thinking, which is always a dangerous thing, and I...I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know if i want to keep my morals or toss them to the wind.

I guess all I know is that I want you.



(w.n.)
joe perez Nov 2014
Within creased paper lie binded souls
Firmly held within my clutch ,
Ideology hemorrhaging as non-opposables only bend so much.
Thirsty i reached for a swig of your cup 
Open palmed 
This vessel mishandled 
the contents soaked through bedrock
Its remains a drink for the decrepit.
Synthesis;
When the rich enlist Or when you cease to desist,
A kiss or bliss.
Maybe both
A high note,
You scream from the crowd
You're not allowed
To see me like this.
Don't resist;
I told them what to do
I knew, I knew
You would try to get through
To me.
I know our one and two will soon be three;
But baby please,
Make this easy for me.
Your tears crashed to the ground
Like the mortars falling all around
Leaving my brothers never to be found.
Your cries met my ears
Like the waves met the sand
where I stood
Near the slaves to the system
With their rifles that glisten,
Peppering the ground around me.
Then that brave young man charged me with a knife,
I thought of my boy and my wife
Before reflecting upon my own life.
I hesitated.
Because I knew, I knew
He was a son too
There was nothing I could do;
But let this boy run me through,
the choice I made Kept this boy safe.
Like I want mine to be;
Unfortunately;
This is no letter dear,
Its an apology.
Simon Forsythe Nov 2014
If I offer my      kindness,

                      Accept    it.
          ­         Embrace    it.
             Take care of    it.

If      you      don't, someone else will.
Every stranger on the street
has sunk deep into the night at least once,
or twice
, and I'd wager
that at times their thoughts have unfurled
into black dishrags soaking up
the insignificant amounts
of vivacity-
pouring pride into the sewer,
praying desperately to recover.

Eventually, time pries a crack
into the soul, and peels back
the skin of morality until the lines
no longer meet and the mind
reels- searching for the baseline
of sanity- save me, someone
save me
.
Watching politics, don't forget that while everyone may not experience the fine-focus lens of media, we are equally deceiving.
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