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Francesca Nov 2018
Blue skies are optimistic,
even when days are cold

Grey skies are oppressive;
they weigh heavy on the soul.
I’m not a big fan of winter.
Carter Ginter Dec 2017
What good are words
When these feelings consume me
There's never enough syllables
To spell out what my heart says

To love and be in love
Those phrases mean nothing
The letters construct a frame
For us to place our own meaning

If I tell you I'm sad
You do not feel my pain
But when I say that I love you
You feel what I'm saying

Language holds so much power
But it limits us too
When I can't place words to my thoughts
They become simply invisible
Denel Kessler Jul 2017
It is the June of no summer
misty margins shift
gray to white-blind
the view is winter
the aftertaste bitter
in a perfumed sea
this shrine
both lovely
and disconnected
serenely denies
the fog’s lies

all is quiet
the Western front
sullenly submits
to relentless
willful weather
I listen only
to the birds
conjure storms
of wisdom
await the lightening
of oppressive skies
Alan S Bailey Sep 2016
I once had faith in human-kind's goodness,
The idea that people could grow up,
I once thought people were genuine,
But now it's all gone down the drain,
People are just one and the same.
Some men are afraid to be sensitive,
Certain women can't seem to toughen up,
It's all what popular society wants,
For people to become something they're not.

But this has to sound like a cruel song,
No one wants to hear how I feel,
In the end everyone is on their own,
You love defending the master, at his heel.
I will do as I'm told, carry on with a heavy heart,
This way of life will tear us all apart,
I bid you adieu, time to be swallowed whole
By societies ever oppressive ways and greed,
Become what people want, never what they need.

*It's the worlds end, like anyone pretends they are aware,
And in the end it seems that no one was really there,
And in reality, no one even cares.
After one cares! Will delete this POS soon, I've been writing for so many years, and I'm still a newb! I ****! I'm sorry I offended you all with my ****** poetry!
Illya Oz Jul 2016
You've known me all my life
So why can't you accept me
I can feel you watching me
Judging me for being me

I'm still the same person
I haven't changed at all
But yet you treat me differently
Like someone you don't know

I no longer feel so open
Like I need to hide
To not show you the parts of me
That you know are there

I thought I could trust you
I thought that you cared
I thought you would still love me
The same way you did before

But I was wrong
And I still don't understand
Why you can't let me be me
And show you who I am
Some people just need to be more open and accepting to new things. That way everyone can express themselves to the fullest and be who they truly are.
Brent Kincaid May 2015
It is like some steampunk nightmare
Where working overtime is a racket
When what was time and a half pay
On the day I get my check, I make less;
Some kind of tax bracket scam thing
Where working extra hours put me
Into another category and increased
The tax they use to grease the wheels
Of a bloated government that hates me.
Maybe that dates me and it isn’t true;
That things have changed and it is
No longer arranged that way. And maybe
The way things became done was that
I got it all back as a refund. But isn’t that
Redundant, that I had to pay it to them
To use it like per diem for their games?

The shame is that I chafed and did nothing
Besides ******* and frothing at the mouth.
It’s not like I could go south to Ensenada,
Buy a piñata that looked like Mickey Mouse,
It was just that the house always wins.
But I have to pay for my tiny, mundane sins.
Why don’t they? Why does it go on and on
And then the money’s gone and I pay more
The next time some fat ***** of a politician
Begins a petition to increase their slice
And nicely reduce ours to a pittance
So low there is no admittance to a show
Or enough to replace a car that is a wreck?

The albatross around my neck gets larger
As it I move farther from the day it died
Even though I have tried standing up straighter.
It’s The Grand Guignol Theatre that life is
And the strife is to not let it get me down;
To be the happy clown and not the sad one
In a game that was begun to make me lose.
I am not confused. I see it, but it seems
Even in dreams I get no kind of relief
From a governmental thief with immunity;
The pillages with impunity and teases
That he does what he pleases. Neener, neener
What in hell could possibly be meaner?
NewAgeOfAnarchy Nov 2014
When you realize that your mind is free from the chains; which hold you in this oppressive world.
You have reach enlightenment
©2014 copyright Michael Cross
NewAgeOfAnarchy Nov 2014
When I die, my soul we be free from the chains that bonds me to this world.
I can finally can see my love again.
©2014 copyright Michael Cross
Try as we must
The stone will prevail
For we are but sand
On this solid veil

— The End —