They married, they married

Their love became fact

They celebrated, celebrated

The stars were in happy

The world got fine

Their master prepared

Everything to the celebrate

In spite of being stingy

He brought a lot of meat

Of sheep and cows

All the slaves came

They danced and sang

They said, "Oh! Brilliant

Aquamarine comes from the deepest

Making everything fill of feelings

Of happy that cavers and distributes

The funny over all faces

You have white heart

White heart

Carrying into good stature

Making hearts tend

To get a funny music

Expressing good melody

The harmony tells

The harmony covers

Love is up

Love is forever"

They entered their home

They thanked their master

They thanked their Gods

They filled home with happy

They slept with satisfy
this is for who search for freedom and justice
Bardo Jun 15
Caught in the spell of my Vampire Girl
Totally smitten with this one
   dangerous kitten
Calls me again to the shadows
Down these familiar backstreets to her    
   lair
Like some strange compelling music I  
   must follow
I have no choice but to obey.

Zombie slave to her voodoo woman
Can't escape, can't extricate myself
From this tangled web she's woven,
Her voice in my head, it tolls like a bell
   imperious, commanding!
That face in my mind, its dark visage
Her outstretched cup, her sweet sweet
   poison.
Poem about addiction. It drains life and energy, hence the Vampire Girl
Aa Harvey Jun 8
Jack and Jill: Enter the Matrix


Jack and Jill, took the blue pill.
The truth they cared not for, the truth they ignored.
Their minds couldn't handle, what their brains didn't believe.
The truth stood in front of them, but they knew nothing is free.


They thought if they learned,
What wasn't meant to be known.
They would become slaves and never see home.


Stood on top of a hill, Jack turned to Jill.


Did we make the right choice?
Should we have had our eyes opened?
Just think of all the things, that we could have learned.
But what was the cost, a life time of slavery?
In life nothing’s given; foolishness is bravery.


Think of all of those heroes, you read about at school.
They died for a cause, surely that makes them fools.
Sure they found their fame, but only in their deaths;
I'd rather be unknown, than take my last breath.


But forever more we must know something is missing.
Our lives are a lie, our entire existence.
Scared of learning, or scared of the consequences?
Regrets all we have now, the truth could have been splendid!


Our chance has now passed, through fear of being slaves,
But we're trapped in this matrix, a slave to the wage.
Money and possessions, that’s all that we crave.
The heroes may be foolish, but at least they were brave,
Enough to at least try; I think we’re the slaves.


A glimmer of hope, shines right there in front of us
And we turn our backs, through fear and mistrust.
We could have been Gods!  Better than our fellow man.
Now were just numbers, working for 'Uncle Sam'.


We could have flown, like birds in the sky,
Slowed down time, dodge bullets and not die.
We could have lived forever!  We could have been just like Neo!
Now we’re just worms, to be eaten by the eagles.


I hate you Jack! You made me choose wrong.
I hate you Jill! I ignored it for a home
And a life with my wife.


We climb each day for a bucket of water;
We can hardly even feed our baby daughter.
Jenny's her name, her brother Joe's on the way.
What would they choose?  Would they choose the same?


But our families ok, they won't know that they’re slaves.
They'll love life at home and they'll visit our graves.
We must teach them, nothing of what we know,
For they would grow to hate us and then they would go.


Our house is just fine, with the orchards of wine.
A family business for a hundred years,
Their lives will be the same.
Never wanting for anything, they will have all they want;
But they can never leave, for this is our spot,
Where my mother gave birth, like her mother before;
As will Jenny, as did I and as will many more.


For life is a circle, what goes around comes around.
Repeating history, is what we have found,
To work for generations, our family has survived.
We’re born here.
We live here.
And it's here that we die.


(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Talia Jun 7
I was your slave
to every end of your lust
I'd be punished if I were to misbehave
but this addiction to you was a must
you said it was forever
I was too naive to know that it's never true
I've been addicted to every part of you since November
and way beyond that, and you never had a clue
until that one fateful autumn day
when what you said started it all
and what I said, was no misplay
little did I know what I answered would result in my downfall.
Wyatt May 28
Land of the trend,
home to the slave.
Corporate messages sent.
Mass-delivered,
definitely filtered
to the eyes of the many.
Screens to share faces
from the basements
of the depraved.
Taught to hate ourselves
unless we're all willing
to rock these name brands
and branding our skin
if it ain't covered with Gucci.
I never got caught up in all of this,
maybe that's why you never knew me.
Pumping up drugs in the trap
and then make a brand from that.
Brand new becomes old news
a week or two after that.
I hate the state we're in
and the intent of the state,
I see through your mind state.
I state this again.
This flag isn't so pretty
when it covers all the needy
hiding between alleys.
The concept of a patriot
in the grand scheme of things
reeks of such a fallacy.

What's a message
brought to one
when one is interrupted
by a text message?
We all have a
laugh and move on.
Don't expect your
tribulations to end
for you angrily
denied my message
before I ever hit send.
Land of the trend,
home of the slaves.
It's a cold world today.
Our grandfathers would
surely roll in their graves.
It's hard to stay motivated
stuck in a game solely dictated by
appealing to the masses to get paid.

Land of the trend,
home of the slave.
Land of the trend,
home of the slaves.
I hope my words
can reach you someday
when we aren't living in
the land of the trend,
the home of the slaves.
And if we're no longer slaves
Why do we lend an ear to
the demons' voices?

And if  we've been saved,
then why do we still believe
we're chained?

And if we're children of God,
why do we care what the devil's prickle
Can hurt

And if we believe,
why don't we thrive?
why don't we conquer?

For we're slaves no more,
For we're powerless no more
For we're worthless no more.
I'm no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
~Bethel Music got it right
flowers grow in the holes
of her ever more romantic dreamin's
she fills in the picture with pastel hero's
their colors fade then fire as her passions run
vivid at a moment's of his heartfelt embrace
faded as his wicked smile fails to seduce
she is drawn to the artistic brief time in hand
fascinated by the workings of the mysterious mind
how create rainbows from the dusty nuance expressed
create love from an abundance of words delicately devoted
cede to the child hand within us
the joy and discovery
making gentle rain from the hard snow
of making yesterdays into an epiphany of beauty lost
how to be the source and author of true loves song

while she is taming the mare
he trims the overgrowth
while she entertains with tea and crumpets
he is chopping the wood
while she dances within loves light
he chips away at the stone hearth
these are no lovers
just strangers embraced

her inner field of flowers
a swath of rose red bordered by summer greens
ever an insurrection against winters hand
saving every sprout and budding leaf
single-handedly stemmed the tide
as Autumn steals away with all of the summers life
he is her part-time hero
obsessed with his grand gesture
dismissive of the intangible cold touch
she paints him in pastel
but his is a life of watercolor running in the rain
a minister of hammers
the only spark within is that
of the violence of the iron wrought anvil
no heartstring to gather up
to weave a life from

she will mourn his leaving
caught up in the divinity
always found in yesterday's sorrows
bound in the confines of her heart
he will always be the part-time hero
he will never leave
in the loss of yesterday's sorrows
Jolan Lade May 1
They took me as a slave
But no man, no grave
No rope, no chain
Can me contain
Break out
Maira Apr 18
Dance to the cheering of men
Show yourself and dance, Dear Gwen.
They pry on you but that's alright,
You'll serve three for tonight
Take it light

One at a time, do not rush
With two hands and a mouth, pure cold cash
You get your pay, they get their pleasure
With a body as if porcelain like yours
Women have no pressure

Your price is high so let no customer down
Satisfy and obey, smile never frown
Dance gwen 'till the sun arises
Until then, you're trapped in your own darkness
Poor gwen, used to satisfy moree than less

Take a quick sip, this liqour has its magic
Makes you brave, night less tragic
It's the moon again, the spotlight is on
The room is dim but the eyes are dawned

Dance Gwen, dance 'till dawn
Dance to the cheering of men
The less you wear, the more you gain
Dance Gwen, Dance until you're worn
Worn out, keep your thorns.
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