#backlash - Hello Poetry

Destined not to tread behind, for the bridge is burned. Staring over; the edge of oblivion. Don't. Look. Back. The only way is to J U M P.

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Nov 1, 2025

Nov 1, 2025 at 10:41 AM UTC

Lucida

Backlash

Destined not to tread behind, for the bridge is burned. Staring over; the edge of oblivion. Don't. Look. Back. The only way is to J U M P.

12

Everybody needs a ***** No thanks I can create on my own My idiosyncratic thinking Is bouncy as the suns atom Looking for a reason to capitalise On mind control apparatus But read on please you Can become my apprentice Because this poetry can heal Dimensions of the brain A poetic analeptic that heals When feeling down at heel The bidirectional pulse wave Of another person is not a desire My encephalon is creative Enough to excite you on the microwave So adjust the frequency Even try shortwave to find life In space because this poet Has no ***** dependency My style is cramped with the BCI Purloin’s my opportunity To be unique in writing Being a survivor & spry The invasion of privacy is deplorable Taking advantage of the poor you do You have privacy so should I too Reading people’s brain is irreconcilable Don’t need two people to write a pen I don’t want to be a ***** in the pig sty And get ***** with other ranks of pigs Every person’s brain is a personal den

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Aug 6, 2020

Aug 6, 2020 at 11:54 AM UTC

RMMurray

***** Backlash

Everybody needs a ***** No thanks I can create on my own My idiosyncratic thinking Is bouncy as the suns atom Looking for a reason to capitalise On mind control apparatus But read on please you Can become my apprentice Because this poetry can heal Dimensions of the brain A poetic analeptic that heals When feeling down at heel The bidirectional pulse wave Of another person is not a desire My encephalon is creative Enough to excite you on the microwave So adjust the frequency Even try shortwave to find life In space because this poet Has no ***** dependency My style is cramped with the BCI Purloin’s my opportunity To be unique in writing Being a survivor & spry The invasion of privacy is deplorable Taking advantage of the poor you do You have privacy so should I too Reading people’s brain is irreconcilable Don’t need two people to write a pen I don’t want to be a ***** in the pig sty And get ***** with other ranks of pigs Every person’s brain is a personal den

32

My passion is the silent uneasiness. Remembering many discontent, and happy doubts. Thoughts came worrying worrying worrying. Death shall bring assurance. I uncovered the wispy whispering shadows and they sprung onto the world. The ignorant never suspecting. I was mute. I received the backlash. The backlash of the world.

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Feb 8, 2019

Feb 8, 2019 at 7:24 AM UTC

s_Willow

Untitled

My passion is the silent uneasiness. Remembering many discontent, and happy doubts. Thoughts came worrying worrying worrying. Death shall bring assurance. I uncovered the wispy whispering shadows and they sprung onto the world. The ignorant never suspecting. I was mute. I received the backlash. The backlash of the world.

13

If there one thing driving me insane Is that I still have the pain Of my anger inside me Anger that you can see Why couldn't you give, to hear my plead That I am in fear and in need That this anger could overtake my mind Who knows what you'd find If you told me not to do that now Or to find ways to figure out how To quell my inner child's rage But you skipped that page and went right for my heart Then wondered why I ripped you apart You sought not to help with what remains You forever sought personal gain Let that sink in to your soul You cared not to help a part, of someone that gave themselves whole

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Sep 19, 2017

Sep 19, 2017 at 7:54 PM UTC

lauren-leal

This Anger

If there one thing driving me insane Is that I still have the pain Of my anger inside me Anger that you can see Why couldn't you give, to hear my plead That I am in fear and in need That this anger could overtake my mind Who knows what you'd find If you told me not to do that now Or to find ways to figure out how To quell my inner child's rage But you skipped that page and went right for my heart Then wondered why I ripped you apart You sought not to help with what remains You forever sought personal gain Let that sink in to your soul You cared not to help a part, of someone that gave themselves whole

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