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Lowkie Nov 2020
-
Knock knock
Excuse me sir
There's something on my mind
That I would like to get off my chest
Don't mind the stance
My vision is kind of a blur
Where was I, oh yes
Your daughter says you think I'm not good for her
-
"You come here banging on my door
Like you own the place.
Boy are you drunk? I see it in your face
You have some nerves
You better leave before I kick you to the curve"
-
Woah, chill man
Maybe I had one or two drinks
I don't know, I wasn't counting than
Woah, chill fam
No need to get violent
To be honest
I don't like your attitude, it stinks
-
"Boy get off my property
You're disturbing my peace
You better leave before I call the police
And stay away from my daughter
Or else I'll come to your house
And there will be slaughter"
-
Excuse me Sir
There's no need to be aroused
I think I have wrong the house
You look like a nice guy
Don't act like a rat, I mean mouse
I apologize for bothering you this late at night
Excuse me Sir as I say goodbye
-
Lowkie ®
I'm not a good story teller.
Hugoose Feb 2019
Stuck and Contorted Within A Space of Remarkable Silence, Your Room Sits Still, Mind Whirring Away Half-Heartedly

Walls Closing Inwards Like Heavy Iron Doors, Doors That Both Slam and Stub Your Spirit

Your Physical Appearance Takes A Dive to The Bottom of Your Worries, Thinking of Nonsense That Only You Believe Is Important

Days Pass by Your Closed Windows, You Don’t Care Which Way the Wind Blows
Shofi Ahmed Feb 2019
The ocean moves
stirring the water.
But none see the sunshine
behind the full moon in bloom
that steals the starry night.
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2018
You are poking at my sore spots
Causing them to redden and swell
Leaving bruises upon ego
Due to show-and-tell

Tear at my facade
Standing there in victory
Watching as I fall down
Laughing while I scramble frantically

I'm screaming at you to stop
In an angry fog
Still love you even full of rage
When you won't say you're wrong

Arms sternly crossed, grow furrowed
Somehow caused me to react
Trapped within the spotlight
Wanting to exit your "concerned" act

Maybe I am just bitter because
You pretend like you care
But really take pleasure in
Exposing secrets stripped bare

It kills my pride to be embarrassed
Here you are mocking
Use my pain for satisfaction
False statements I try blocking

Your voice relentlessly cutting through
Dripping mean drops of bitter defeat
Eyes filled to the brim with resentment
The reason I flee on my feet

Although you are talking out of your ***
I know you don't intend any harm
You just love spreading propaganda
Masking wickedness with charm

Some opinions best left unspoken
Truth lies in your voice
You don't care enough to sort it out
Collect bits of conversation, share It, rejoice

Am I too sensitive, moody, and soft?
Experience should have made me strong
Losses only thinned armor
Eroded by countless decisions wrong

Caught in an infinite power struggle
You fight logic with exaggeration
I've surrendered, white flag waved
A soldier of your own creation

Go stir the *** again
That taunting tone I hate
I love you mom, tell me why
You have to instigate
It's hard to explain instigation in words but I gave my best shot
Gods1son Oct 2018
Everyone has love in their heart
For some... Love has settled down
in the V-shaped part of the heart
Just as you would shake a bottle of juice before serving
The same way, you would have to stir the heart up very often
To have an homogenous mix of love for the day!
purpu May 2017
letting it go too far over
whispering lines none too sober
deep into superficial radical concerns
but the comfort theme overall well stirred
fulfilling holes by plain symbolic gestures
miming intentions in meaningless false truths–

eyes on the pistol, the cure as a symbol.
I'm not really a hipster, but i can make your hips stir.
Not to seem down and *****
It's only four-thirty
But loving is good for you
Through all the things that come with it
Out of all the fruits you can consume
You would be the banana
Because i find you a peeling.
Madison Y Sep 2015
I thought I saw you on the bus today,
He had brown hair, like yours
Or was it black?
His eyes blue, but
Not as blue as yours.
Were your eyes blue?
I can't remember
How many times you'd stir your drink before taking a sip,
The hand you used when running your fingers through your hair,
Or which cheek dimpled when your mouth widened into its crooked smile.
The boy on the bus,
He knew. He was more of you
Than you ever were.
I didn't miss you, I missed who I thought you were.
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