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As society unfolds
Their makes of perfection
Lifting a shame
While dropping all hateful
Majority rules
The beauty's infection
No thoughts of all
Sympathy a scarce call for attention
To breathe an equal amount
Oxigen and hate thoughts
Ropes will hang high
Feet brought to dangle
Society blind
Double digits seem sinful
Fights with metabollism
How could it be fast
Curves are their desires
It isn't one's fault
But they make it feel so
If triple digits arise
Sympathy will reach you
Though double digits a crime
"You've go *** easy"
Do come to explain how this hate is easy
When you **** up their hearts
And leave none for the "twig ones"
And so she falls through her own self destruction
No curves or triple digits
Bring her one day to a aingle digit below the surface.

Kathia Mariana Landeros
How come of you're fat people will praise you tell you you're beautiful and that skinnies are ugly. But when you are skinny they hate and look past it?
Rochelle Mar 2015
VS.
You're fat.
Look at those rolls.
You can't fit through the door.
How many chins are those?
You remind me of a whale.

I am beautiful

Butterface.
You make me want to ****.
Don't you wash your face?
Acne must live on your body.
It looks like there's craters are your face.

I am beautiful

You're too fat to be at the gym.
Salad? Don't kid yourself.
You need to lose weight.
Your thighs are huge.
You look pregnant.

I am beautiful

You can't do this

I am beautiful

You're so ugly.

I am beautiful

Stop believing in yourself

**I. Am. Beautiful.
mind vs. mind
Ottar Dec 2014
You talk trash like a doorman,
who treats others like doormats,
thinking you have that right, cause,
you fired first!

did you get lost on your way to a poetry
slam, and so you have no where to compete?

as self appointed (shr)editor,
you stir the *** and leave the room,
leaving your P.I.E.D. in plain sight,
just waiting for it to go off.

do you unto others as you would have do unto you,
somehow you forgot it is true, and I am sorry,
but no worry, I have even liked some of your
real
poetry,

What Was I Thinking?,

Observe life and report in rhyme or prose,
But rhyme with hurtful slime, uglier than my
ugliest of toes, might be poetry but stirs woe in me,
dress it up in classic forms,
who let you create a standard of norms?

take us on fanciful journeys, tell us of loves lost
and loves won, but instead you
load your keyboard with angry
words, waiting for the sound you like,
the sound of your own voice, PULL!

to achieve release...

who died and left you in charge,
or are you sitting sad and alone,
on one of the google barges?

cute trick to hide in hash tags,
not very original, gotta hand it
to you,............................................... you are the best dressed word
bully around. linguistically pure,
of that I am sure, for no human,
would c\ut a/nother's .............................artistic creation
down, unless perfection was in the D.N.A.

what did the others word-
hunters go on vacation and
you got stuck taking turns?
What a way to waste a holiday?
So be a good gourmand, and
get back to excessive feasting,
on food, and
not people's
works.

KTWK
P.I.E.D. - polemic incendiary english device
D.N.A - really?
KTWK- ha ha you will figure it out, eventually
I try to ignore some who pick and target other poets, see I did not even put your name in this rant...or did I?
jillian leigh Dec 2014
GROWING UP I NEVER REALLY REALIZED THAT I HAD DIFFERENT FEELING TOWARDS GIRLS THAN I DID GUYS
I THOUGHT THAT YOUR HEART RACING WAS NORMAL WHENEVER YOU SAW A BEAUTIFUL GIRL
I THOUGHT IT WAS NORMAL TO BLUSH IF MY HAND WAS ACCIDENTALLY BRUSHED BY THAT OF A  BEAUTIFUL GIRL
I REALIZED THAT WHEN I GREW UP THAT IT WAS UNUSUAL AND IF YOU FELT THAT WAY ABOUT THE SAME *** THAT YOU WERE DIFFERENT AND IN SOME CASES YOU'D BE SHAMED
I NEVER REALIZED UNTIL I GREW OLDER THAT YOU WERE SHAMED FOR WHAT GENDER MAKES YOUR HEART RACE AND YOUR CHEEKS BLUSH AND YOUR LEGS SHAKE AND ILL BE ****** TO BE ASHAMED OF WHO MAKES MY SKIN TINGLE BY THE LIGHTEST TOUCH OF THEIR FINGERTIPS
Ronni McIntosh Jul 2014
Walk softly, she said, softly
on hearts around you.
Your power crushes, your love
is unseemly, your tender eyes
behind yellow teeth and make-up,
your gifts are petulance,
and your own heart,
your own quiet beating drum,
passion-beat ceased long before
under the heavy tread,
the power protecting, the dreamy love,
the hard eyes behind white teeth, gnashing
the giving of precious priceless gifts,
not given freely,
and the loud thrumming incessant hum.
The masculine muscle, throbbing,
beating proudly, smugly,
handsomely sometimes.
It weeps for you and itself,
Carved of it's own destruction,
as it tends to be.
circus clown Jun 2014
it's been exactly 7 days
since i was, again,
thrown into a body of water
too vast to swim to the edge of,
and too deep to keep my
head above the surface,
and not one person has
come to my rescue.
it's all been
"you shouldn't have done that"
and
"you've slept with him before"
and
"stop drinking with older guys"
and too much silence
my hollow bones can stand.
so i'm going back to the center,
i'm holding my breath till i'm blue.
there is a sinking ship
where my heart should be
and i'm about to go down with it.
this is not self defense,
this is a distress signal
no one is picking up on.
caution at all times and empathy for all, but, above all, support for victims.

— The End —