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Tony Luxton Nov 2017
I watch a small lump of fat
fall to the lawn, surrounded
by birds. A plucky starling
takes it to a quiet spot.

Grandad grew frustated with ploitics
at work. He turned his back,
took his pension,
started working for himself.

Greedy persistent pigeons press
stealing starlings' earnings, pecking,
flapping, asset stripping.

The old man worked night and day to build
business. But the predators swooped,
their beaks and claws tearing at his skin.
They broke his heart. Today we bury him.
looking at the lawn on funeral day
IPM Nov 2017
Thrown into wildness
I was thrown into wildness...

Law of the jungle runs deep in ones veins
food chain topped by vicious prowlers
if blood keeps running cold
murderous minds grow more bold
predators take pride in their
hunter's prowess.

Thrown into wildness
I was thrown into wildness.

Where fights in the dead of night
and greedy hands with high demands
are everyday life
all part of ulterior motives
and rotten plans.

Where pretentious intentions
are the cost of survival
and no saints nor prophets
are offered revival.
It's hard to stay calm...

It's hard to stay calm
when wrath's laid on the tip
of your palms.
Gluttonous man eaters drool
in the depths of the concrete jungle
over lustful people
whilst maintaining an iron ******
rule.

Thrown into-

The sad reality of living day to day
and sloth's not tolerated
unless you've royal blood
survival instincts often tempt
a few to stray
their ways forgotten rest
beneath the murky mud.

In the end, envy runs errands
against the common folk
for in the jungle defenceless insects
have no place in the grander plan
or any rights to live humble.

It's a vicious cycle that takes
its toll
being thrown into modern wildness
and when the sun goes down
and follows darkness,
the world is then devoid from
kindness,
and humanity is swallowed whole.
Inspired by Ka and his unrivalled lyricism. Also by other events.
Knights Jan 2016
With wings to fly
I might just die
Maybe say my last goodbye
Cause honey I
As the prey they might
Chase me as I scurrie by
The predators hunt me tonight
Hannah Payne Nov 2015
Everybody's got a story to tell
Everybody's got something to hide
Everybody's got something to say
Everybody finds someone to divide.

And the beast is finally far away from me
But it's not so far if it's stuck in my mind.
He's got half his head underneath his baby's bed
Full of stuff,
He'll soon grow up to find.

And there's something hunting on the streets again
It's following the coloured prints on a dress.
Another flashback yet again begins
Swimming in my head and through the red
In my veins.

Everybody's got something to share
Everybody's got something to take
Everybody's got something to sell
Everybody's got their forms of prey.
Lindy Feb 2015
No laughs and no apologies
The door was left ajar
“You may assist yourself at the mezzanine.”
girls cascade as men pose
strategically
in shark skin suits
like swimming tessellations
corners fit against corners
bait fish schools
Moving in murmurations
No one ever looks up
at the ocean top glass ceiling
Their eyes are aimed downwards
waiting to see a massive shadow rising up
from the sea floor
No one knows what goes on down there
down where the sand is so cold,
where the flesh of the bait fish drift and
the ***** pick at remnants on whale bones.
Monarch butterflies cascade off trees like autumn leaves;
and they've been doing it for centuries,
endlessly falling to flutter back up
to feel free from their predators and enemies
who strike with their jaws and paws
to ingest their feeble frame.
Frankly I would go insane from the danger;
but they seem so carefree and incapable of anger,
they're probably just happy to have moved
from the prison that was their cocoon.
Gwen Marechael said the first line and I wrote it up
Chum floats the pool
encircled by sharks and piranha
a pity, nature's fool
as fearful teeth do their work.
Could they be as bad as I?
Apex predator, Invasive species
where it means to die
as a means to live.
Growth from a spineless cherub
to a spiteful formless entity
possessing a cunning golden scarab
controlling wheels of fortune.
Slaves to our own demands
aren't we antagonists to someone else?
With machinations of wicked plans
to justify righteous intentions.
Hypocrites line the tank
tapping their fingers in rumination
Abandoning morals, faces left blank.

I am not your foil, I am a mirror.
Cassandra Leigh Jun 2014
I am seen more frequently as an object than a human being
People act as if there is no soul inside the mannequin they're seeing

I am referred to by things like "****, beautiful, and Honey"
When I answer with offence they say they're only being funny

I walk away feeling degraded with an overwhelming sense of shame
Strangers make me hate myself and never learn my name

To hear a ****** cat call sends a shiver down my spine
to be objectified is understated, and society says it's fine

It makes me sick when I am treated like a piece of meat
My one solution is to cut two eye holes in an old bed sheet

When strangers say I'm pretty I no longer feel an ere of confidence and pride
I feel a need to run away, be alone, and hide
I've been facing a lot of discrimination, and ****** harassment lately. When you are in a position like this often times people are too afraid to speak up. I know I've been, so I guess I'll let it out here.

— The End —