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What ever did the government do for
us Apart from*
up the benefits
Universal Credit pip
food banks kids going
to school hungry
Homeless people dying
on the streets local
council service cuts
an proposed statue In
my home town
Margaret Thatcher the
milk snatcher who
created the hated poll
tax but apart from that
what did this government
*do for us apart
from doing there best
to **** us all
off
Hate this government with a vengeance single they've destroyed our Country for there greed and self Importance
There was
light,
we made dark.
There was
beauty,
we made ****.
There was
warm,
we made cold.
There was
good,
we made bad.
There was
love,
we made hate.
Let us always be
kind,
and take the bad things
away.
Think about it, there really is no dark, is it s word that we made up for when there is no light. And it is the same for the others.
Will, there be time enough for me to get done whatever Is left for me to  do before this life Is finally through to finish anything
I started there are poems of my wife still I have to write

But when all Is said and done to what will be for me then when my writing Is all done and I cannot write any more to
what will I do them because I live with the fear
of not being able to
write

For writing to me about my wife has become like an addiction a necessary need to write every day If I miss a day feel I've failed just got to write every spare moment

I have In a day total dedication devotion
an undying love for my sweetheart even though she gone I live her, breath her every second of the day she Is In my thoughts

I live for her memory It's the only way I know how to survive In a world I'm no longer happy In I knew the day l lost her my whole world would crumble because she was so ill I'd feared losing her for
years

But tried to push the thought to the back my mind but the eventually the Inevitable happened
and she was gone my whole world gone with
her no fairy tale ending
no sitting together In retirement on a porch watching the sun go down
or watching flying geese across the morning
sky

I'm struggling to comes terms of the loss or maybe
I don't want to perhaps It's that I'm comfortable to live In sadness because at least she still with me If I were to cure grief completely I'd lose her I don't want to do that
Will I have enough time to finish what I started In life
Close my eyes shut out what don't want to see
very easy for me to do these days so much In
this life, I don't want to
see any more

Watching this Idiot government destroying our country cruelty beyond believe against
the vulnerable of our society they are
gutless absolutely no feelings toward the poor
of this country

Just hope and pray I live long enough to see them fall as surely they will but
best of all this the town I live the council Is going to ***** a statue of Margret Thatcher

I'm sure the poor of this town to which are many will be so grateful when they have been to the food bank to try and get food to feed starving there, kids

They will be able to view this wonderful bronze statue of
Margaret Thatcher the milk snatcher who created poll tax who single handed destroyed the working class

Of this once great country for It's they who In nine years have devastated and bought to Its knees the poor of this country God bless all those that deserve so much better

In life than this so-called government of complete Idiots will ever give them Heaven help us all
God help us all save from this Idiot government would be better of running a circus
Bryce 5d
At the ending of the world
there is a great unraveling
that celestial bow, wound into heartsong
and maestrate the caring music of things--
with these passions of the mind,
God seeking to unravel himself in the ever-fleeing
moment of philosophy, a Persephonic instance
in the archetype of love, psychotic and misnamed,
strait-jacketed in sin and given nothing but sweet
momentary decay

all the powerful souls connect sexually with the cosmos--
payed off, bastardized with a cigarette between their whispered lips
we hold no wealth but the ever-shifting dollar of life.

Fat Jack, fondly Catholic with angel smiles-- holds a rock of God in his hand, rocking softly
in god's busted gut-belly
spread like butter amongst the stars, asking all the same questions of Nirvana--
The last rumble of a skin-tight drumskin wrapped within a screaming symphonic twang of remnant souls--
Walking the notochord of corporeal form
the fantastic drone of rotorcraft, taunting the angelic lads and their brigadier God, singing psalms of limerence
Charlie Parker, musical sadness
Jack-man gladness
Don't forget them in the moment of monastic incantations

High-risen pyramidicals
Euclidian pitter-patter against the gusts and rains
in familiar, repetitive shapes the droplets of ichor
elucidate the frowns of downtown humanity
the locked door at the edge of the room, the air evacuated in fear,
seeking safety in the favorite belfry of an ancient wailing abbey
the dusty oil-towns of century ago
Imbibes the modern-day Maricopa plain
folk digging for dino-rock and black gold, selling dreams to downtrodden lost boys
the mistakes of RV park families

Farmland road
in Louisiana brew
the atmosphere, keeping personal thoughts trapped
a high-pressure zone
the ever-wandering
churning winds of eventual hurricane
the sequence that tickles Fibonacci's fancies and
calls us to dream--
a great Babel of God's consistent scattering heart.

in this great combustible chamber, loud obnoxious gaseous veils
in a low sigh our precipitate souls
smog on the failed shackles of stale blood
dripping this oil on the lips
holding friendly smiles
hiding sickening grins
callous, angry, the honey-chalice sought be not by man or God
alike;

Charlie Parker, playing the world's instrumentation
a track to follow
faded as the ancient road roaming
Rome's wet snail trail
blinking and shimmering into existence
a dewlit morning
the conglomerate rock is a cradle for human discomfort
admitted and hidden
to be a better hold than the hands of the earth
in these cornmeal roads,
digging out sugars from her *****
and sipping on the liquor of life in classic fermentation

to hold the road in your hands, the world on your lips
to tell the catacombs of love you would be her hostess,
seeking answers in the bones of ancient souls and refining
in deep sighs,
loving the things we cannot be.
Every day I sing In praise  to my sweetheart deserved
so much more In life than she ever received there Is no justice In this world to which we
live

A world I'm not to keen on anymore when I see the way the misfortunate of our society are treated they are cast-aside as If of little Importance for God shake they fellow
humans

What Is wrong with our society that allows this to happen shame on those Involved who make these
poor people lives so miserably

We send out foreign aid nothing wrong In that but we don't take of our own It's as the authorities are ashamed of the situation
but don't want to admit to
it or the big part In causing the terrible suffering they have created I'm lost for words
So much  unnecessary suffering to our fellow
humans at times It almost
Unbelievable the suffering
"You know what's really wrong with this generation," my grandfather said from his spot on the couch, "is that they don't know how to interact with each other! Social media and these devices have ruined them!"

(He went back to watching the fifth video of the day that he had discovered on YouTube, volume all the way up.)
legit no joke this is my grandfather
Aditya Roy Feb 8
This' heart's a jukebox
Darling buds of may
If you love him
Clap your hands
If you know you hate him too
You love him
Clap your hands
If you can't get enough
There'll nothing left share
If you don't love him
Then dump him
If you can, Polly...

Polly (The Poem)

Love can be annoying
But, annoying can be lovely
Women
You are beautiful
Look at a mirror
Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards. That's a true reflection.
A clock tells you the time.
A poem tells you the rhyme.
A ladder of poetry tells you to climb
Lucid Feb 8
when you're driving
do you ever wonder about the layers
between you and that tree?
Alxe Feb 3
I’m fine
There’s just a choir in my head
Screaming not singing
At a girl, a child
Screaming help
Someone help
Me
I said I’m fine
angsty_teen sad depressed suppressed feelings
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