The bitter sting of winter's singing howl Drives me to seek some deep and darkling place Far from the blizzard's scorn, the wind's embrace, Far from the beasts who bear its brunt to prowl In search of prey. I'll clutch close to my cowl And cloak, beneath which hides a younger face Than most foresee. The forecast yields no trace Of hope for safety 'pon the road. No foul, My fellow traveler, don't fear from me. I'll lay my knife down well before we meet, Before we each choke down a share of *** Or what would pass to warm camaraderie; I know not where I've passed, to where I've come; I simply beg a place to warm my feet.
Every day the news screams "***** VICTIM, AGE NAME: PLACE_" Underneath The description of what happened.
Some people take note, Others read it out of pity sometimes concern very few take action
I am nothing more then a jellyfish Reading the news every day. Clicking my tongue in pity.
Pity? We don't need pity. We need awareness. Action. Movement.
I won't try to poison your ears Telling you lies As if I'm a victim of assault or harassment I won't tell try to earn sympathy telling you I know someone who experienced that someone close to me I don't
But I hate that feeling, walking down the streets worried about every single person behind me Terrified they might be a potential attacker. I hate worrying, about my friends Who are just outside for a few minutes And yet have to be careful?
This is Blasphemy. Why must we be careful? Is it due to our genitals? Is that the ONLY REASON? It angers me
"You know better!" I would rage silently at the news It has no effect, never will never does If I just keep my thoughts
A serious issue. Even if it's a small little poem, a drop will always have a ripple. I dislike how even now, EVEN NOW, it's still a problem that needs to be dealt with.
Total irrational fear, I’m Haunted by noises and Interred by the Rumble belly, *** tightening, Twitchy eyed, false alarms that Evolve into conspiracy theories, Even though I love every single Nonsensical asinine fear factor…ish
Falling is now a favourite. Eleven other aversions form a line and An extra number comes to mind (and with it comes ‘Whoa’) Reset the clock to zero! Stride on, wipe your feet, step off.
I spot the small things The giraffe balloon Floating by the window of my bedroom Where I brood on the day
I spot the small things The souped up ride Tearing past the street The go faster stripes breaking my concentration
I spot the small things The washer of hotels cleaning the distant windows along the parallels As I struggle to work
I spot the small things The dead pixel on screen Making the image slightly unseen On your update feed
I spot the small things The name on your message With a heart on the end That day was a lesson Not to blindly trust
I spot the small things The couple in the corner Kissing away secretly I slowly mourn her You're truly not mine
I spot the small things The robin on the wall Serving to remind To be above it all and be more than I am
I've been working on this one for a while, had the idea of how I seem to spot things in fleeting moments and wanted to tie in a story around it of a person's debating their suspicions of their lover. Think it works.