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Beau Grey Apr 2016
"Cheers!" and we drink to
this totalitarian,
patriarchal ****.
DannyBoyJ Feb 2016
Smoky air, fedora and billboards,
testosterone-fuelled dreams.
the purest of all male forms in its finest
yet darkest days.
Who run the world? Men.
The sweat pouring off of the masculine brow
that controls what we are prohibited.
The lights of Morris Minors flooding the
The watchful eye that sits upon the ashes.
They’re in charge. Them, and only them.
A red right-hand to those anti-them.
They will tear you apart
if you decide against pledging allegiance.
Or you’ll end up in the sand.
Leslie Gutierrez Jun 2015
I'm a valedictorian not a *****.
Each to their own, but really you should start thinking.
My ****** does not make me different, but my brain has a weird way of thinking.
It does not change the game,
****** me then maybe in football you could actually clutch me.
Say I can't make a difference I say pshh just watch me.

Sweetie I'm here to tell you that your beauty fades.
You're not Marilyn Monroe! Your smile won't be engraved.
All women use their vaginas, but how many use their brains?
How many have their own wants and peeves?
Or do you like it because it appeals male?
Dress up all you want! You will still feel the same pain.
After all is said and done...
You really think you'll look the same?
Sagging skin and a trembling voice don't you wish you behaved?
Touching boys and making noise, left you in an empty room with sorrow and pain.
Meanwhile someone else's room is extremely full while a maids cleaning, How do you think they paid?

Theyres always gonna be females that look better but brains are all but different.
So lately has anyone used it cause girls keep looking the same?
So listen to my warning and stop this raid, boys will be boys and love is obviously over rated.
Focus on education and then you will say 20 years later when life goes smoothly by, this is the poem that you will idolize.
CP Jun 2014
I don't want to be perfect
What an incorrect prospect
I like my defect
At least I'm not an object

My eyes do not resemble suns
My words are more like guns
Aimed at your sons
I've only just begun

My hair is not soft and fine
You simply cannot define
Or enshrine
Standby and do not whine

My thoughts are not innocent and pure
Nothing is secure
But I am certainly not your saviour
My behaviour brings danger
I am not your entertainer

My hands are not are not flowers
I have different powers
Which devours and towers
Over your mouth as he cowers

Nature is not just beautiful
And neither am I
How dare you belittle it with unsuitable lies
Save your goodbyes
I am not your demise, that would be unwise
Do you not realise I have a disguise?

I am not  perfect
Yet you could never recreate and resurrect my imperfections
Save your affections
I need to find my own directions, away from your infectious reflections

— The End —