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<soft spoken intro>

...see your still here again,
    .....think your still welcome here?
                 ...here,
huh

Closed our mills, took our jobs, put in down our throats,
Fed us lies, took the pensions, thought we were a joke,
Media all bia's -steal my sentence, voted 'ere to revoke,
Cratering down! Cratering down the steepest *****!

We're taking you, out back and to the side,
Gonna be a genocide...

We're taking you, out back and to the side,
Gonna be a genocide...

White people,
     are raging, against,
           The Machine..

So Welcome, welcome...welcome...
      To The Machine...
            Floyd

I once woke up covered in blood on my parent's steps,
My truck was miles away on the side of the road.

We're taking you, out back and to the side,
Gonna be a genocide...
Kevin Norgrem Oct 2016
I was never good at being consistent.
In fact, the mere thought of planning a day ahead screams through my mind ripping it at the seams with a searing pain only paralleled by that of the mundane.

My mind is always distant. Off in the clouds whisked away by any light breeze  lucky enough to seize it's sails in a full blown misdirection.

It's a common misconception.  Some say its supposed to be this way.
People. Most people, go about their ornate days unable and unwilling to be swept up in the filigree.

The fragile, intricate, beautiful moments of each day.

I detest the societal saftey blanket we pull over our eyes.
Dana Skorvankova Jul 2016
There's a rain on the inside
It falls,
It falls,
In tears,
Vanishes from the memory.
I know
The past beats inside you
Like a second heart.
LJ Jun 2016
Shropshire the outback of hives and mires
A birthplace of industrial revolution
Built with ***** iron and bricks
submerged in the depths of the water beds

Shropshire the strength in the metal structure
A cast of firm shields and fields
The greenery of contrasting yellowy yields
A mirage of hills sat on pillar heights

The breeze so fresh as sun prints on the canal
The warmth so intense as the bird hums in the nests
Labour artisans and metalsmith at the heart of coalbrook dale
Bricks aisles of pathways along the river
Bordered by vintage delicacies of the magnificent nature
Sorry doctor,
I was so busy trying to live I must have forgotten to breathe

We are all on this earth to work, pay bills and breed
The blood spilled a lubricant for a well oiled machine
A single moving part in a mechanical construct
On the surface it looks fine, underneath at it's strut
Divided by a botch, the very thing that holds it up
Suspension all tension, bending at joins and in between
Rich get what you want, desperate denied what you need
To be taken seriously but not to be taken seriously.
The botch is money.
Oskar Erikson May 2016
You
      Could
                Of
                    Said
        ­                   Goodbye....
                                                     ­                                                     BUT
                                                                ­                                          NO
                    ­                                                                 ­                     YOU
                                        ­                                                                 ­ SWORE.


Never again, again.                                          NEVER AGAIN AGAIN.

                                      Your Heart Bleeds
                                            Our Glass Beads.
being both or being singular makes no difference
A warmth passed through photons
From thousands of miles away,
A warmth passed through my heart
From connections to my brain,

You give me that same warmth
As the Sun gives in full brightness,
And so I hope you'll forgive me
When I express my blindness,

There's more to me than seems
To meet your eyes my gorgeous friend,
I long for you to truly see what
I can bring to lend,

A steady hand, a steady heart,
A faithful pair of eyes,
I wish most that you consider
That none of this is lies

Changing beyond belief
My faith, my heart and my desires
Like some inch worm with too much food
I metamorphosize

Into a better man I grow
With every breath I take,
I wish to express to you "Love",
In my lungs I build strength

To take the steps I need to take
And fight what holds me back,
I need to fight any callings and
Stay on the right track,

I can do it if I have the support
I need, okay?
So please, for now, give me the leeway to find my own way.

I'm not a missionary though
I know I'm a good guy,
And it is this very thought which keeps
Me awake at night,

I hope and know I'm good enough,
To at least attempt your presence,
So feel no fear when we speak please
if you are feeling hesitant,

I'll do my best to not scare you
And rush this large decision,
And if you say "No," that's okay,
No hurt will come from fission

So take your time and when you feel
A choice is at a close,
Let me hear what you have to say
Because
*Who really knows.
aj Dec 2015
i. WATER: straightforward enough just make sure she can breathe still; not just the kind in her throat, she needs the ocean, a spirit somehow both constant and ever-changing; you may try to hand her the umbrella but it'll never work, she'd rather drink the sky and wear it in her hair than anything else

ii. FOOD: keep it on hand; lemonade, strawberries, coffee and donuts, pasta; don't get it confused with thought, don't refrigerate a monet, don't put haring in the cabinet; she'll drag you to the museums but i swear it'll be worth it when you see her full and bright and alive against those canvases

iii. WARMTH: wrap her up in your arms every second you see her; wear your favorite cologne and i guarantee she will notice every time; she rises for the sun but lives for the stars, don't forget about the way she turns her face to the sky every time she goes outside; her glow is strong but every so often she'll need a little bit of yours to stay alive
sked Dec 2015
Keep looking and figuring out days in the sun
Life is in front
Yet one retreats
Question: Is the nature of Man unsatisfied with the life he lives?

Perhaps its escape
Away from the apparatus that the world has inflicted
Yet the retreat is futile for one will always get pulled back in
Question: When Man gets immediately pulled away from the fictional realization of his desires, is he satisfied with what He has in front of him?

No desire is ever satisfied
Desire is made up through dreams
It's these dreams make one hate reality
Question: Are the dreams that Man create are what poison them?

Precisely what causes the hurt
Precisely what causes the prolonged
Precisely what causes the boredom
Question:...............................................
"Dreams only have one owner at a time.  That's why dreamers are lonely." -Erma Bombeck
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