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Gangsters got few friends and more fiends.

Such is the nature of life.

It's rare for a gangster to find someone to confide in.

In the streets, no place for confidence.

Not a trace of the rare innocence.

''Innocence is nonsense, in the streets''

Alliances forged on territorial expedience.

Trust will give you a deadly experience

I survived one madly in all my existence

Only vagabonds and tyrants not saints

Make it here

You watch my back

I watch yours

Till comes time to shoot you in the back

Talk about family....

Your family is the one who takes the bullet for you.

Either dead or wounded alive trust such.

Owe nothing to none and walk without fear.



No justice from the police

Just another authorized gang of enemies

Who don't hesitate to shoot.

So we shoot before they do.

Get caught, if you lucky in prison you will rot.

If not, they will give the electric chair

Life is only fair

Only serves you what you deserve

Pull the trigger first or face the grim ripper first

Death is an invited guest

It's what we use to live

What we all shall use to leave

Live by the bullet

'Shall die by the bullet



Just staying alive today

Only to die someday

My life feeds on blood

My tears are wiped by death

My fears are calmed by death

At the end it will be my death

I won't miss the earth

But I will miss the streets



Guns and ammunition

My way of retribution

In the face of intimidation

Those who intrude can end up dead

In case you didn't know

We ain't rude just avoiding the death bed

It's an insatiable thirst for power

Will do anything to quench it.



If you shoot a man

Make sure he is dead

Or he will return

Saying he rose from the dead

Shoot him in the head

Between the eyes.

To seal his fate

Avoid the deadly surprise.



To be cont'd...
An old poem of mine. Thought I should share it here.
Sarah Elizabeth May 2018
Loneliness
Was never a stranger of mine
Before I met you
And Is no longer a stranger of mine again
Whenever I am not with you
Who knew
That shed come back for me
When you have yours turned to mine
Yes, I know you’re only sleeping
But my mind can’t help but to wonder where you’ve gone
If you’ve wandered off to somewhere,
Someone,
Better than I
I will not cry over my loss of your touch
I will only lament my heart’s feeling of fullness when I feel your hand on mine
Because without it,
Sometimes,
I can’t help but consider why it isn’t there
Only to find 12 hours later to be in your grasp once again.
My dear lover,
Where have you been?
My thoughts have been racing,
And my heart’s been akin
To a post apocalyptic wasteland
Devoid of all life.
But, never mind my temporary strife
Because with my palm feeling your heart’s beat,
And my lips feeling your warmth
I know no one’s torn you away from me
And that sleep
Is the only thing
Keeping us apart.
Bryan has insomnia, and is always the one left alone when I fall asleep on him. I now know how it feels, and the loneliness is killing me. After spending this past Friday-Tuesday in his arms, i want nothing more than to be in them once again.
Ar Bazian Apr 2018
The sun ripples red through the veils of inevitability
Decay and darkness besets all
When everything we know shall not fall,
but crumble, into oblivion.

We are forgotten.

Still, we see through filth of your disguise.
Your bankruptcies and moral demise.

Oh how peaceful change can be,
If it is attained through conformity!
We are your once lost dream!

The lonesome figurines along your wall,
The distant, wailing familiar call,
And the endless strife for remembrance,
That we may not be strangers to the froths that we are
That we may struggle to come so far, only to fail, unlike you.

And so, by mere virtue of the nuisance that is all other things
We are, among the many things that we are,
Honest, True, Controversial and arguably good,
But, forgotten… dismissed and forlorn.

The children of dismay, whose wills robbed and voices clogged,
Once again, the generations outcast and lost to your pointless device.
Dom Bobek Feb 2018
Overthinking, I love you so.
Overthinking, I won't let you go.
Overthinking, you're breaking my heart.

Overthinking, you're making it hard.

Would you kindly
leave my embrace.
I could use some

******* space.

Not freeze in time
everywhere I go.
Overthinking , I love you so...
Ar Bazian Feb 2018
A world suspended in demotion
Devolution devours all entity and creation
The entirety of existence,
Reduced to the mere ridicule of trivial things alike.

Much is at stake, and yet nothing.
A staleness of fire-like flare,
Stranded in demise.

Endless plight, and compromise…

And I wonder what begins my day.
How I summon the power to stay,
O’, and how we endure decay.

Now, the music we knew devours the sun,
The outro of all this begun...

Meanwhile,
Underneath the waters stream,
Many a restless dream,
Hung, distorted and bereaved,
On the fumes of a memory.

Meanwhile,
Underneath the waters stream,
Many a restless dream,
Hung, distorted and bereaved,
On the fumes of a memory.

The world is gathered in breath,
And soon a day will dawn.
When everything else is gone,
When the willows awake,
Daylight shall break,
Over the vacancy that bonds the ends of you and I,
Beyond the reach of things unknown,
Beyond the endlessness,
Alone.
Isabella Terry Jan 2018
Poetry grows as a function of pain.
Organized anguishes conquer your brain.
Brilliance is a burden so rare,
You can not ignore it, so it, you must bear.
You will not sleep; no, you’re not allowed.
You’re a slave to the page til it’s all written down.
The night is long gone, but there’s no time to mourn:
As the sun starts to rise, a young poem is born.
You lament for lost sleep as you stumble around.
Your heart in your ears is a deafening sound.
The pain has subsided, but you’re well aware
That though it’s appeased, it is always still there.
Inspiration lurks, ever waiting to strike.
It exclusively chooses a time you don’t like.
Try as you might, you are bound to the pen,
And after each respite, it comes back again.
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