Open your eyes.
True love in heart. Love matters most People muster much Truth integrity a must firstly sought in self Ofter found in few Truth is love's root True lovers fruit Without your loot still love of thee abounds besides the sinking boat thine treasures scattered yee for mine delight to find, Enamoured. Adventure plotted for us In turmoil flight indeed. Fame and great fortune Invested misfortune reigning over reason clueless as my prison lure's dance in song our best love honeypot arrived for us in rhythle. Habré tus ojos darling, beloved. ~~~~~~~ By Karijinbba 7-4-2021
Happy Independence day fireworks and all my love.
dancing on my own
out of comfort zone two possible ways, but none is mine I will ******* both and just feel fine preserving The Gifts friend to the thieves existing on the edge of frame ego flirting with the devil’s fame I like what fear do ca-сa-call me ******
Please cut me the brief
it's people like them that go away missing They are hyenas from day to night it's these animals who risk to survive for something they try to steal and hide. Distracted as we are as they laugh and prey someone is going to hunt them down somewhere some day. Their not doing it for the children the civilians or starvation only for our humiliation.
This piece goes out to everyone who works retail.
Thievery must end.
the dangers in the street
thieves and mad maniacs walking with calloused feet embellish in black slacks the dangers in the street did not warn me for you voice deep, achingly sweet your visage portrays blue the dangers in the street says you like to pretend lies tastes so bittersweet i’ll hold you till the end the dangers in the street thieves and mad maniacs murdered my trusts, repeat sincere love, filched and taxed
A fractured silent state
where fear thrives amongst thieves. Ignore your neighbour's knocking and humanity's hum ultimately become louder. What's duality's plea if transparency is key.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
In the weirdest turn of events that day
As a cop toting guns and pepper spray I gathered an urge to pen my first ode In my lunch hour, before hitting the road To sirens and light of my precinct's space not a stanza wrote, yet my mind's apace the pen's the problem; confidence recede Pondered a visit to a friend, indeed Thoughtful I'm moving, this old clue I'd act on Brooklyn's pen thief; kleptomaniac acquired from him, an ink dipping quill of Huia birds, still boxed with its bill Case solved; on the back of the bill it hints "Dear Mayor, pen's for poems; lead's for thugs."
A Peculiar Pen's Poem...still beating the street
N.B. Huia (pronounced HOO EE UH) birds feathers cost $10,000 a single pluck
Freedom dies with you!
What are you fighting for ? This is your generation people, I'm begging you; don't go to war. Freedom dies with you! you can't fight for peace! I'm begging you, don't go to war. Not in the name of liberation! Not in the the name of humanitarianism! Not in the name of freedom! Not in the name of free trade! I'm begging you: Don't go to war!
Wars are fought for resources thats all !
There's blood in your oil !
Since I can't have you
I'll write essays On Richard Gansey The III
They line the streets
And on every corner One "ailment" or the other A family, sometimes brother and sister. Crying in a song Singing with one voice All covered up in fake injuries Lamenting about past glories They line the streets Crowding every corner Always a bother Clinging to our knees In their torn dresses Keep them away from us Stop them from touching us With their deceptive illusions Appealing to our emotions With empathetic persuasions And now our money is gone.