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Kayla Gallant Sep 27
Filthy lies

Spread across

Blank canvases

Young minds

Spoiled

Like milk

Left out in the sun
warped young minds becoming who the world told them to be, So much wasted potential.
We cover her skin with long trails of asphalt roads
We fill her waters with plastic waste and burnt out cigarette butts
We overwhelm her atmosphere with toxic smoke in a million different ways
We throw bombs at her body while fighting with one another
We bury burning garbage beneath her flesh, hide our waste beneath her flesh, constantly build build build beneath her flesh
We **** her animals, we **** her trees, we **** her oceans and her seas. We **** her land and her sky.

All she did was give us a place to call home. How selfish can we possibly be?

Take care of the earth. She needs you.
Don't bite the hand that feeds you.
L Barbera Jul 2
The joys of solitude
have been spoiled by the love I have for you.

Walking silently in places unknown
use to excite and awaken my traveling bone.

Anymore it just reminds me
that my love is alone.

So wherever I travel
be it land
be it sea
It be not my home
if it lacks you and me.
CautiousRain Jun 27
A bitter boy you are,
with twisted words and twisted fangs,
sour lips and ****** knuckles;
boy, you sure do love a good fight.

That's an awful lot of snickering
for a guy who's surely bluffing,
and I'm quite certain you know
as well as I, you're full of ****,
but your tangy hands and acid fingers seem so daunting
when you cast out all your hateful "truths".

I'm torn between all the love and all the hate,
it's inevitable that they'd congeal
into a sordid mixture
and so it was a bitter boy
spoiled.
You know I used to punish myself if I kept talking about him or writing about him, and it's been well over a year since I wrote about this guy instead of someone else, so I figured I won't punish myself if I did it this time.
I was hit with some pretty hard nostalgia the other day about it, and well, it's bittersweet when there's good but so much bad weighing down a past.
Boy
It took until now
thin and mid 20s
to comprehend
that as a child I was
and as an adult
still very much am
spoiled

little childhood
traumas to mine
               no festering drama
               no shrouded mess

calm can bury like a
gravity blanket
               too hot or too cold
               I complain

I have never clawed
at my belly in hunger
felt my body
fall off in jeweled
pieces but I have
at times been
hungry

adulthood is a lake
blue black and endless
               rife with mudtraps
                    brimming with viperheads
                         scraping at the surface water

I am spoiled
I have not known pain
but I knew a person
whose eyes prodded
               like nails through jello
my insides and cut
tendrils of muscle
and delighted in the
stitching back
               the pushing of
                    needle through
                         meaty bits

some time after
I was grown
but flailing madly
as a comet poised
for landfall

a beetle in
a dust storm
a child with its
first scraped knee

my flesh yearns
for the needle
and for skin all
smooth and
scarred and
like the color of night
               singing
like the color of night
like sky like light
a rapturous blue
Lumi Nov 2018
She'll cry a little glitter,
Drips into her coffee.
Post it on Twitter,
Caption: "Do you really want me?"
A cry for help masked by pink lips and golden eyelids.
A W May 2018
***** girls with lousy guys, drives me crazy
Maybe you shouldn't feel too sorry.

Old Sally, so **** good-looking but a pain in the ***.
                 "Oh, darling, I love you."
                 "You're probably the only reason I'm in New York right now"
I told her I loved her; it was a lie.
    felt like five hundred thousand years, looking at all the phonies.
Ivey League guys with ****** voices,
a witty bunch of actors drinking their tea
and rubbernecks stand around to watch.
    I was a ******* wolf, just wondering for intellectual conversation.
                 Someone, Anyone!
    Just give old Caulfield the time to spoil your evening
                 because he's not sorry at all.
"A small project I did for the Catcher in the Rye where we were to make poems with words from chapters 17-19. They are suppose to be about his relationship with Sally or the feelings he has about her. Enjoy!
Amanda May 2018
I always looked up to you
I'm not talking about your height
For your ability to hold me
And make everything seem alright

From a young age you spoiled me rotten
Still do, though I moved out and live on my own
I will always be your little girl
No matter how much I have grown
Tbis is actually about my dad. I miss the person he was. He has changed so much.
Maira Apr 2018
Poor Annaliese, with no knowledge about life
You lived your life sheltered
Out of human strife
You bathe with diamonds and rose scents
With golden spoon on your tongue
And a lot of dishes to pick upon.

Lovely fabrics; red, yellow and blue
Glass slippers— Cinderelly you're true
Smile Annaliese, Show your warmth
Show ignorance, Let them know you're proud
Wave side to side, Gentle curtsy my dear
Show off your wealth, Know no fear
Silly Annaliese, When you laugh they shouldn't hear

You sheltered brat, arrogant and rude
You dance so well and fake good
Goodness gracious, what would happen if you stepped out of your castle
Will you be able to survive the riot? The rattle?
****, Annaliese, learn to live!
Stop being dependent on what your majesty gives
Jeff Gaines Apr 2018
I know a girl, everyone does.
All she wants is fun.
She won't be having cereal today,
she'll have everything under the sun.

She don't read the paper.
She don't watch no news.
Why would she care about someone elses troubles
if they will never buy her shoes?

She don't need no man.
She don't need no gun.
So many rides to take her there,
she don't walk, much less run.

She's got no time to cry.
She's won't listen to the Blues.
Nothing in the world matters to her,
unless it's something she can use.

She has lots of friends.
She'll dance with them all night.
But she cares not that they ain't real,
cuz she's forever high as a kite.

She don't care about no art,
unless it's something she can wear.
The thing she loves to look at most
is in the mirror there.

She's just loves making trouble.
She's always causing a stir.
But she don't bother about anything in the world,
cuz it revolves around her.

It's almost sad to watch her live her life,
always seeking to ring her own bell.
A living, breathing, ******* a mission
to fill a vacant, soulless shell.

She stares down into her pond, from her big ivory tower.
She'll never be happy and even less so,
as a helpless little flower.
If you don't know who this is really about, the first line is a clue ... they can be seen on their own reality shows (past and present), gossip shows, tabloid shows (and IN the tabloids) and any and all social media. Naming names would only beg a flame war. If you don't understand the last line, then Google "Narcissus" ... it will explain.
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