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joren's Feb 2
wish this was only
my existence
i could give up
on persistence

convincing my concious
that its morally fine
ignore the repercussions
of my suicide

wish it all washed away
when we take the ferry
but the world still flows
and memories are carried
A thought process apart of justifying suicide to your concious. What if this is just my personal simulation and everybody else has theirs. I'm only dying in mine. // = WIP
S Smoothie Oct 2018
People just don’t  get it do they?

PolitiX -

There are no good:
-politics
-politicians
-politicos
-policy
-polices

There is only DISTRACT and TAKE!

If it is bad, fake It good
if its fake, fake it real

if it’s obvious make it someone else’s fault
manipulate details and statistics too
lead the questions,
get the right answers for you
Mass Programmng Media
secret Not Saying Anything service
hide behind our own goods

Freedom these days is all about -

Policing

And the illusion you are in

Control

Politics by its very nature can only exist by divide
the greater the divide
the easier to fraction
easier to fraction
eaier to incite aggression and violence
the resulting fear makes us seek peace
we legislate our freedom away putting hope in lies
the greater the distraction,
the easier the take

Peace is an illusion,
a God-like ideal
A frightened little bird hiding in the bough of a tree
barely out for a second
starving to death
confused
and lonely
because the fear of fear is so great

Political Peace is submission and oppression while convincing you
that its in your best interests not to resist or persist.

You are then provided with a guilded cage
distracted by how different the cage is next to you
or the fence that divides you but you are safe?

All policed by consent
the unmerry road to oppression
begins and ends with distraction and take
all selling illusions of peace and happiness
while selling you out

And YOU are too distracted to notice
YOU are killing your family and neighbors
One fear
One prejudice
One judgement
at a time...
Who polices the politix machine?
Who polices you?
Why gave them your unalienable right under *God
to legislate your freedom faith and happiness out of your life,
for you without your consent? Is that why they want to **** God?

Peace has nothing to do with governments
Shreyas c9 Aug 2018
I’m missing someone who probably doesn’t exist,
And yet I hold on to the fantasy of an amazing tryst;

I’m homesick for a place that doesn’t exist,
It was just a house with people who coexist;

I’ve been pretending to live a life that doesn’t exist,
Then how can I find the strength to still persist?

I’ve kept up the façade of being a person that doesn’t exist,
Yet I can feel my true impulses becoming impossible to resist;

I think it finally may be the time that I should not exist,
The people who would miss me is anyways a short list…
-c9
Just putting in words whatever you've been feeling is an amazing thing. And that is the beauty of our HP community
Tony Luxton Jan 2018
Granite tiled floor,
more interesting than Internet,
jagged streaky veins,
dense masculine stones,
polished gunmetal bloom.

Trying to establish patterns, symmetries.
Should I miss my appointment?
There's never time to persist.
Temptatioin of a timeless world.
Julia Nov 2017
I sing sweet, but
I’m broke as a little bird
fell from the nest
while mom was at work
and caught by a cat
who left me to die
frying on the sidewalk
with twitches and tweets
stay strong mis hermanas ✊
IPM Jul 2017
Just plain and simple
a boring existence
persisting from day to day,
doing nothing nimble
without no resistence
like dust, I'll be swept away.
Sharde' Fultz Jul 2017
Folded ripped and unfolded
You see the symmetry and its beautiful
But when you take a step closer you see the emptiness in the tears.
You see the valleys left behind in each crease of every fold
The rugged edges of the rip
Fingerprints left from a sweaty hold
Yes, upon closer inspection I am but the sum of my parts
And often all my parts appear to be disasters
And often they are
I trot around like a work of art
But few see what it took to get that way
How I was folded ripped and unfolded
Few can't see past what it took
They see the holes left in me but not the pretty shapes
And some see the shapes and I wish they'd acknowledge the holes
Still even fewer can comprehend the resulting work
And frankly, Sometimes I'm not sure I do
But I manage
A crippled work of art made beautiful by how neatly she was torn apart
I struggle to hold my new form in the wind and amongst viewers
Try to look like something relatable
And not like life spent too long on me
Worked till it got weary and persisted when really it should have rested its eyes
I try
To uphold my form as though every overworked corner and tear isn't centimeters away from destruction
As though the slightest snag or tug won't leave me hanging
Noticeably Deformed and mishapen
But I stretch and I retract with grace
Perhaps this is how I dance now
my life a pas de deux of trying to hold it all together
Just folded, ripped, and unfolded.
Steve Page Mar 2017
And when you pray
Ask from your heart
And when you pray
Seek from your soul
And when you pray
Sniff around without ceasing
Through your tears
To find the doors
That He has prepared
To brand new frontiers
For His pioneers.
And then -
Knock.
A lesson from Redeemer London.  Matthew 7.
J Aigboje Ohiro Aug 2016
Ideas are like the wind
they come and go
like common cold
they come with goals
like ball and post

some we achieve
others we only perceive

but one thing constantly remains
after they have buried our remains

more will perceive
few will achieve

why?

because some will be cowards
and others will be forward

that's how they will exit
and their ideas exist
in a place where ideas are luxuries
just because they refuse to persist.
The Grave yard is the place with the most ideas... Find your purpose and never should you be afraid to live it... Life is short and no second time on earth, make every second count and don't forget to enjoy it, while you are at it.. cos no matter how long you live death must come..
Salma Elaouni Jul 2016
Imagine if I could hear your heart from a distance
If the left side of your chest were a boombox
Imagine if the branches holding your muscles decided not to hide anymore
Imagine if they grew their way out of your skin
Maybe then you'll see you the way I see you
Maybe then you would feel what could be drawn outside of you
This world will tell you all about tears for it hates your eyes
It will **** every bit of oxygen out of your lungs just to see you shrink
Let it
Let it drain you of the fluids keeping you whole
Put your wrists forward
Show them that chains can turn to bracelets and that there is nothing more precious that the clouds can give to the earth but tears
I promise
There will still be wind
Even when they put boundries between you and the ocean
There will still be wind
So to **** with the world
We'll take away a piece of the sky and make another
One that doesn't require the clouds to cry.
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