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The sound of urban sprawl, the music
of a soul’s vocally verbose interruption.
Caged thoughts, poetic justice, frequencies
of lethargy laced between headphones,
a reverberating ocular clarity.

Invasive odors spoil the mood, as pavement
digests this single protein of synthesized
might. Provoked to quit, but it’s the
intensity of the fight tantalizing, and
intriguing this winged warrior of
thought. To soar, no glide, no slide,
no, to enter his incoherent sound with
those of the other thousands striking
paved aspirations with each nonchalant
gate.

A boy on a bike,
A cops whining siren,
the noise of societal music,
a muffled shuffling, caged
for clarity the tinker thinks.
They hustle to their next destination.
Asking for no names,
and forgetting without hesitation.
A contagious infection;
due process, or natural selection?
A side of life soiled by repetition,
a constant selfish sense of volition.

Cancerous tentacles engulfing
every dendrite, synapses, memory,
idea, and thought; engaged in a
battle for recognition. A collective
competitive selective process, the
individual lost.  Where arbitrary
idealisms shape reality with another
drive by fatality. A place where calls
for leaders echo from alley ways, and
side street short cuts, are answered
with the pounding stampede of feet
trying to finish their own race.
Landscapes stained by the blood
of our advancement. Large sores
**** forth, every sign points to a purging
of us, but we continue to swear the
canvas unfurls further.

Our social institutions are accented with
the angst of our young. Taught to keep
the motion monotonous, take no time
to examine the subjects, while the lesson
forgets them. Modern man’s call for
mercy, but it’s advancement; of product,
proper conduct, that keeps the conduit
subservient. Just another burnt out fuse,
standing along with millions of others, the
working  control center of a self defeatist
organism I call urban sprawl.
Lianna Walters Nov 2015
I’m sorry,
Who did you say you thought you were?
I don’t owe you an explanation
I don’t owe you anything.
You are not entitled to a complimentary map of my mind,
And my heart,
So you can know what buttons to press,
What strings to pull?
Because you’d just love to see me unravel, wouldn’t you?
Don’t you dare ask me to give you the benefit of the doubt
Because you have already proven my initial doubts to be reality
And I am done letting people in so they can destroy me,
from the inside, out.
I do that to myself enough.
When I’m at my lowest point, don’t come to me.
I don’t want your pity
What am I, a charity?
You have no right to feel bad for me
And you have no right to be mad at me when you text me and I don’t respond
Or you say hello and I look the other way
I’m done playing these games
And I’m done trusting where trust has not been earned
I am not somebody who you can expect to just open up about things I’ve taken years myself to accept
And you’re gonna have to respect that
I’m sorry,
Did you hurt yourself jumping to conclusions?
Because I hear it’s pretty far from the truth and that ******* that just came out of your mouth,
I hope you didn't hurt your fragile ego.
Wanna talk about me to someone else?
Great, that means you know better than to act up in my space
It’s almost a disgrace
How someone can be so two faced
But if you’re gonna be two faced, at least make one of them pretty
Said Marylyn Monroe
But I don’t think you understand how that goes.
They say what goes around comes around
And I sure hope that’s true
Because if that’s the case,
Karma will be knocking at your door very soon
Haven’t you learned your lesson?
I doubt it.
People like you, never learn.
A few lines in this poem are ones I already wrote, so you guys might recognize one or two

— The End —