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Once upon a morning dreary,
On a wibbly-wobbly urban prairie,
I hit the road barely fearing -
As the fool who has no fearing -
And there came a car.


In a sudden, asked is it the end,
I'm not surprised, but how to pretend,
While I am always steering -
Just as badly as the driver's steering -
My emotions behind a striped bar.


Since the moment was so sneaky,
And the car's break creaked up creepy,
At least for the people seeing -
Hearing, if people were ever existing -
And not just imaginaire.


In that second's timeless land,
I had no social expression to send,
Signing to them that I'm living -
Lying to them I'm a human being -
So, I just stood bare.


And behind that timeless scene,
Angry drivers and people were seen,
With me standing there -
A guilty criminal sharing his despair -
A social monster without cover.
18.11.2018
What can I say
I'm trying to send a message
A few words to portray
Exactly what's going on in my head
Things really aren't clear
I feel a bit dead
I don't know why I'm here
I need to get up, and get ahead
Outpace them all
Like I know I can
Scale the "impossible" wall
An became a woman
I know I'm strong
I know I'm intelligent
I admit when I'm wrong
(can't find a rhyme but you get the hint)
I'm a critical thinker
I see through the lines
But my mind's beginning to splinter
I'm not actually fine
The world's driving me mad
And I'm feeling homicidal
Then  stop feeling bad
For being suicidal
I don't like it here enough
To put up with ****
Lights out like *****
Don't think I tried well I did
Four times in one year
Guess I really wanna get out of here
I spilled one last tear
And knew death was near
First time I cut a tad too deep
Second time I took a little too much Paracetamol
Next I tried to hang myself, failed and felt like a creep
Then I thought a lot about jumping off of walls
Finally I overdosed
I was home alone
No one knows
It hurt a lot
My life flashed before my eyes
I knew I was going to die
Somehow I woke up alive
And now I'm here writing dumb ****...
And thinking about number five
this is silly
Do we ever stay strong?
Or do we fall,
To the ground,
Full of,
Dust.
Am I depressed or,
Just young man,
Full of,
Thoughts.
That’s where we felt it,
We’ll die,
Full of,
Thoughts...

...Or is it just a
Sociopathic life of,
Lust?
m h John Apr 1
i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
¨so am i ****?¨

¨some days most definitely.. others not at all, never in between- except for sometimes.¨

¨what am i right now?¨

¨a happy medium!¨

¨so when do i look my absolute best?¨

¨when you really really try.¨
and those words made me feel like the ugliest ******* the planet, and im so disappointed in myself to admit that.

//have you ever completely loved someone who cant even feel love? it hurts, let me tell you,
Tommy Randell Jan 18
When you get to the bottom of this letter
You will see the world anew, then perhaps know me better.
When you have listened, given thought to what I'm saying,
You will understand I hope my reputation for hating.

When I was a boy they let the world abuse me,
Instead of learning love I daily learned to hide my bruises,
On a permanent basis soaking up their hatred
To become this broken doll no one wants to play with.

Acting out a role in a life of empty stages,
I used Love to justify non-existent rages.
I treated the innocent the way the guilty treated me,
I employed Love as the camouflage for cruelty.

I learned. Now, I am Passive aggressive and a democracy of one,
Sometimes a dictator and no Mother's Son.
I've known no Father's discipline and no Father's love.
When i push people away I make sure I draw blood.

What my goals are doesn't matter,
I can get under anyone's skin with a little Poet's patter.
I can feign humour, show remorse, charm birds off the trees -
I like you all better down on your knees.

I stand tall on my own, my sights set on the prize,
My best weapon ever... the child in my eyes.
And, I am telling you now it is too late to stop me...
Every word is a blade and the concealed weapon is Poetry.
I love to tell stories and make drama in my writing, why shouldn't I create them in my poetry?
Maaz Dec 2018
Stand on graves and cast out the helpless.
They arrive in waves to the illusion of hope.
A 'caravan' of people,
All begging for freedom,
But fear not,
They shall be murdered
for they are evil.

How can they expect asylum, safety & security,
from a land built on death?
Where those in power face no scrutiny.
Where an orange haired buffoon can thrive & prosper,
But mothers & fathers cannot afford a doctor.

Yet still these people come here seeking a better life and
how dare they do?
With hands calloused from hard work,
hearts filled with grief,
spirits filled with belief;
Don’t they know?

This is a land built out of the flesh of martyrs,
On a charter that helps oppress its own population,
A country that thrives off devastation.
A sociopathic society
Kelly Reagan Nov 2018
Who’s soul is left for your to break
The 2 you crushed for your own sake
Away from you, away from me.
peace and space they are free

You tore him down piece by piece
You ripped to shreds all his needs
Meek and small but bold and alive
Now she is gone, do you cry ?

I bet you do when others see
Looking for any ounce of pity
Searching out your next attack
Who’s left the break in your sack

It won’t be me, I’ve learned to soon
You dead to me, soulless lagoon
When you finally depart this place
You existence will dissipate

We won’t worry about seeing you again
Without a soul you will never begin
To the sociopath who has hurt so many people in this world
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