I have no liking for politicians
It doesn’t matter what they represent
Or believe in or stand for
I don’t care if they’re the Right or Left
Or in the ****** Middle
Or up high or so **** low
That you can’t trust them

They are all the same
From the smug smiles of Putin and Trump
To the elitism of top Tory’s like Cameron and May
There are the spineless Labour saps
Like Corbyn a Red terror supporting anti nuke coward
None of them are fit to lead any nation
Each supports his own selfish interests
Closely followed by their party
I’d rather take to the hills or woods
And live alone amongst nature
Or with a trusted ‘group’ allied to no one

There are totalitarian autocratic dictators
And democratically elected leaders
All can lie and behave like the best
For they are the best
The best at lying killing
And saying whatever they like

Some people believe them
They silence their enemies and opponents
By a variety of means
This is the politician
All are the same
Low life **** whom I oppose
Ì̛̛̕ ́͝ņ̛̕e̛̕͟ę̛̕͝d̷̢̛̕e̸̶̡͏̀ḑ́ ̛̀͠y͜͡o̶u̸͜ ́͟b́͞͞u̴̶t̷̛͞͠ ̧̡͡͞͏
ỳ̕o͢u҉͢͏̷ ̶̨͞w͏̴̕è̛́͘ŕ̴̴͢͞e̕͠ ̶̧̡͜n̴͢o̷͟͝͞ţ̸̵̸̴ ̷̸t̢͞h͠͏̶̧er̶͠e͜͠͡ ͏͠f͜͠o͏͜͠r̀̀͞ ̶͟͞m̕͢͟͞͠e̛͟͞
You traitor.. i know this is dysfunctional.. but i do not care.
Deadwood Jawn Nov 2018
0 degrees.
Iron floors.
Wooden walls.
Incandescent light; dim.
Faint smells of cinnamon and red wine.
Sound of rain on the windows.

...
...
...

Get out.
I will continue to lacerate my arms.
Laceration until your inevitable action.
Sea's End Nov 2018
Now
If there's anything that I like about myself
Right now,
It's that I resent myself
Enough to want to change.
A teenager that doesn't like themselves? Whaaaaaaaaaat?
Lotta stuff going on. Bad stuff.
Qwn Nov 2018
Her being radiates faith,
and behind her eyes lay confidence.
Sometimes I envy her belief,
I resent that she has a home to go,
while I stand to freeze alone.
I'll praise her strength,
for it's something I'll never have.  
Maybe sometimes I wish I could believe,
but I am the way I am, like a blind man,
I can't suddenly decide to see.
I resent many of my own works,
And I resent having to write them,
Such dreary ****.
But It’s what I feel and my hand writes,
As a suicidal turtle,
Though may place his head underneath an elephant’s foot,
Cannot stop himself from pulling back under his shell.
Michaela Sep 2018
Resentment,
It really is unfair that I entrench you in despise
But looking in your eyes it's just not cutting through all the lies
The lies I tell myself so I can get by feeling alone
Disconnected
All the ******* time
I'm only reflecting how you make me feel
Difference is mines with itnention while your is innocent still.

The only way I see this isn't through my eyes
But crying everytime I see
Something which you can't make mine

Mine is home
Mine is love
Mine is the effort you got to despite all above.

But the word forget has froze you still
Stuck in care and sweetness
But passion and **** need to be separated my love.
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
Three soulmates deep into a mid-twenties lifestyle.
Where I say nothing, do less, barely walked a mile
In my own shoes, let alone the fortunateless.
And when she says,
"Oh, my bugaboo. Can you, for me, please,
ask forgiveness?"
I smile, for lack of a better expression,
at her rueless lesson for me, which is
as is,
all I can surmise,
to have been meant as
a surprise.

Shocked now, and a few fingers deep in the bourbon.
"Did you know it must come from Kentucky?"
Of course she did, and she spun my spinning back around,
and now wrapped up in myself, as I tend to be, sat half-tipsy
on the hallway credenza-- I thought, for lack of a better imagination,
about the station from which she heralds through some truth.
A flag raised but not saluted.

I regret for a few turmoils. The clicking tocks of ticking clocks.
A minute is such a long time when you expect it to end,
and I feared this romance barely a fortnight into,
"Look, me, you. I don't think this is going to work.
I don't think this is working."

Where was the loudness? Sudden, or not. Not.
Was this right? Expression was meant, otherwise
what is anything and its proper place?

I sat woke in my bed now. Looking at her chest, the curve of her nose.
And as I rose further and felt the warmth of our body heat trapped
beneath the comforter escape, I was jealous.
realizing the love you're in might be more of a memory than the present story
mjad May 2018
There are more secrets that my heart holds,
than arguments I have woken up too.
More anger and resentment rising upwards,
begging my mouth to attack you,
at every waking second I am in your presence,
than times I have muttered the words: I love you

Happy Mother's Day
We don't have a good relationship unfortunately
Next page