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ALamar Jul 2015
Using the church as a kickstarter is not the work of the Lord
Pastors pimping congregations like ******
Psychological manipulation
Using faith in reverse making people hurt for not buying into the BS
Love offerings have become "buy the pastor a new jet fund"
Since when is love defined by how much you donate
Since when is salvation based on how much money you take the pastor
Simon Woodstock Jun 2015
forgive them father they know not what they've done they have traded your book for money used for guns to fund there wars condemning their eyes only granting their comfort in ****** leaving them to sleep from woman to woman craving to fill an emptiness inside subconsciously begging for words from the wise forever searching for a meaning in life slitting their own throats because of lack of purpose and a lust to know what it truly means to die feast your eyes on a systematic bee hive stinging and attacking everything they see desperate to hold on to the possessions of their being
Bad Jokes Inc Jun 2014
I hate white people
who stop me from stealing their stuff
and bring in the po po
who put me in hand cuff.

Now I'm in jail
cannot post bail
eating out of a metal bowl
while being ****** in my *******.

Then it occurred to me
what I am supposed to be
so I became a basketball player
and changed my name to Lebron James.

Chris Bosh wants to be more than homies
ever since I was drunk and he groped me
he wanted my ****
i think he was sick.

Spoelstra is an ***
I ****** hate him.
he needs to die
before I cram a basketball in his wife.
Eric Spoelstra is my love.
Martin Narrod May 2014
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******,
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
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KA Mar 2014
...I am Kevin's needy self.. scratching the walls.
Holed up in my Key West hotel room and the walls are closing in,
pacing the walls of my mind.
Drinking my naked self into a coma, ****** in and out all weekend,
papers and empty bottles littering the floor and tables.
All to die like the best and go out like a pro,
gone mad, gone crazy in paradise.

Lying in my *****, visions of you walking on my vacant mind,
myself in question and my soul on exit.
I love you and baby you will find me in my glory,
tequila is a fine way to flame out.

In my blind drunkenness, I see my Grandfather before me in his Police Uniform drinking on 85th and Carnegie, hiding his sin in 1925. His will to choose overcoming any logic. His desire to lie about his age to fight the Germans when he was 16. Seeing too much death in France to ever talk about and fading out while I view him saying a gentle goodbye when we both knew it was the last time I would see him alive.

I come to laying on the floor in my *****. The warm air flowing in from the open front door. I am sticking to the ***** carpet and the smell is making me dry heave. I have lived a life, but I know I need to find Aine. She is my blood and I will die or **** myself slowly if we are not united soon. Its an act of desperation, too many ***** and ****** to fill the void. Never fulfilled and always needing more. I can’t lie to myself any longer. The lie burns into my eyes and soul, not to be ignored. She is there, we breathe in the same world. Her smalls hands and beautiful eyes always around the corner.

I’ll recover from this moment like I always do, but one of these times I won’t get up. I’ll die like a pro, in my crazy. I am desperate for the air , to breathe her into me. Breathing in life, my sweet Aine.

KT Mar 27,2014
My Prince Charming has turned into an ugly, old toad,
but that’s what happens when you choose this road.

The road so traveled by all the toads before;
makes me wonder what you see at the *****’s door.

I would think by now it would be rotten and smell,
but that’s not where my thoughts will dwell.

Why are they always uglier than me?
It can’t be because you like what you see.

Is it because the ****** like to drink beer?
Or is it because they’ll **** on your spear?

You’d think by now all of you would have warts.
You know the kind that stays in your shorts.

You think you’re so handsome, have you looked in the mirror?
One day soon they won’t let you get nearer.


But by then you will not make me cry
and they’ll look like they were put up wet to dry.

They may be younger but you keep getting older.
What will you do when you get the cold shoulder?

What will they do when you run out of money?
I bet they won’t think that it’s very funny.

Or how about when the pills are all done?
I bet a fight will be caused over that one.

Nothing like pill-head ****** to ***** around with.
To get them drunk, does it take a fifth?

An eight ball of coke, that ought to do it.
When it’s all gone I bet you don’t get in it.

I may have been with you through thick and thin,
but I ain’t touching that warty skin.

We did have magic for so many years,
but that was before the coke and beer.

One day I’ll see you all and grin.
For you’ll have caught the clap: what a payback for sins.

— The End —