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tobi Jun 2018
i think what’s wrong with
society and laws
is we’re trained when driving
that yellow lines
are the only things
that separate
safety
and a fatality
what’s holding someone back
from causing a homicide
too much trust in strangers
the leaders of tomorrow bravely take to the dais
justified their precious life,
     liberty and pursuit of happiness -
     stolen under their figurative nose)

     asper an unparalleled heist
recouping quintessential basic human rights,
     and will NOT yield an inch
     (or any other minuscule amount),

     if for no other reason
     (and many more valid claims prevail)
     such inalienable American birthrights

     (codified decrees endowing freedoms -
     tattered to shreds via frenzy of bullets)
     guaranteeing harm inviolable unjustly out priced
     sacrificed by lax second amendment spiced

within wanton murderous sprees wherein assassin
literally calls the shots (supplanting
     assigned storied halls with din
of fire arms (acquired

     from pennies on the dollar,
     or bartered for a bottle of gin
within the underbelly (viz black market)
     of society, where trigger happy jinn nee

     as slaughter sans killing fields mount
     with resignation vis a vis
     tocollective shrugging shoulders prithee
and upend safe havens i.e. storied academic re:

deuce sing self preservation (UNFAIRLY)
     to activist minded students tree
ting each day as a survivalist course, thus WE

as coined on legal tender (E Pluribus Unum)
MUST unite against love affair with pistols, no matter
     one or more mere mortals
     think Matthew Scott cray ZEE!
chloe Mar 2018
when i was told as a little girl.
"think before you speak"
i knew what mum was getting at
and what dad tried to get me to do.
but.
now i'm older, only a little older than yesteryear.
i was in a slumber.
now i have turned to my night-dreams.

if i thought before i spoke.
maybe i wouldn't have even said a single word.
maybe i would have been so lost in my thoughts
i would forget what i was saying. or thinking.
no one would no what i meant when i thought about tomorrow afternoon. they would stare into my starry eyes and wonder why they even bothered to talk to me. would they?
but i will never know. because.
even when i hurt someone through simple sounds flowing from my mouth. i would still make them cry. kick. scream. yell.
they would always know. that i never thought before i spoke.

or would they.
only a thirteen year old trying to make sense of her life.
please read generously
i would if i could but i cant.
Ace Sargent Oct 2017
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
The child who said he wanted to see
I am sorry I could not stop you, angel
From becoming part of this machine
To pull you from those cogs and screws
And cover your innocent ears
From the churning and turning of politics
Of old white men’s right-wing fears
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
I know you want to fix the worlds scrapes
But the earth is not like your boo boo
And mommy’s desk doesn’t have enough tape
I am sorry I could not stop them, baby
From taking away your dreams
They would not listen to my screaming
They couldn’t hear mommy over the machine
In the case of the 8-year-old little boy
Don’t let that light die in your eyes    
I know the world can be a bully
But there was a time so was your mind  
I am sorry I could not stop them, sweetie
From saying all those bad things
An 8-year-old shouldn’t be hearing how
The government tears off angel wings.
for the raising of little ones
Through this window
I see a life
That seems to be mine.

Episode by episode,
Its scenes flash
Towards oblivion.

Fast and unexpected,
This life falls in front of me
Like a rock through
An endless well.

No feelings or care
To be received,
But the constant action
Of ignoring loneliness.

No screams of help,
When expectations
Proceed hard work.

No glimpse of joy.
This life just rushes out
Of my beating chest,

With every ****** verse.
Apollo Hayden Jan 2017
The marriage of pen to paper gives birth to poetic imagery.
So full of life that its authentic nature can be felt every time you read.
My heart nurtured in its soil so deep that my mind thinks poetically. Aligned with the body and soul, I become poetically whole.
Alex Riley Dec 2016
A wishful thinker things of magic, dragons, and knights.
A king with a daughter as pretty as light.
Dreaded forests as far as the eye can see.
Or sitting in the shade of a magic will tree!
A big, wide land with giants of stone.
A mansion with all sorts of musical tones.
Or the Kingdom of Camelot with Merlin at hand.
A hot, dry beach all covered in sand!
Fairies with wands, dragons with gold.
Knights in armor, secrets untold!
Kingdoms with kings, dreamers with dreams.
And if you look closely it seems...
That a wonderful God has made up this mind of adventures and things!
When you look at yourself in the mirror and you notice something.
Your not the same person  you used to be.
Yeah you look more mature but your smile don't show.
Your eyes don't shine as your mom says.
You don't laugh like you used to.
You think your loved ones are crazy but one day it hits you.
Your not the same.
You don't smile the same.
Your eyes don't shine like they used to be.
Maybe this is growing up?
Or maybe your just walking through the rough path to lead to the next open door.
This world has a lot of twist and turns to meeting people and burning bridges.
From finding yourself to finding what your worth. It's an endless battle with yourself your mind or anxiety and your worst fears coming alive.
Maybe it's all a test.
A lesson by the sky above.
As I clean my face off from the drool from last night.
I notice myself.
And notice how much I've changed.
Maybe it's time to grow up and swallow that dreadful pill.
Dreams come true.
But effort motivates.
And passion makes the heart worth beating.
And the eyes the clear hazel eyes will finally one day shine again.
Till then.
Let the rain come down and let the piano Play.
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