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#bad
Naughty words. Big, bad, naughty words. They feel like ice, please give me summer. To feel the warmth of your embrace...
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Naughty words
"That's so gay!" A use of Slang and slander In The Wrong Direction. If they use Gay as in Happy The Way Most Have Forgotten It would be a good expression. But if they use it As a reference to Homosexuality Then I Don't Get It I Won't Get It. You can't be more gay Than someone else. There's no scale Or Chart To measure Gayness And it's a bad expression So gay is Bad? No. Gay is not bad. People who say "That's so gay." They are bad
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
That's So Gay
I heard the footsteps as they came across the road; The snap of hurried feet outside the house. Shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness, A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.     The bleating of the flock, The chatter of the birds amongst the trees, I recall the whisper of the morning breeze; Hyphening the broken silence as two boys stole about the house; It was midnight in August 99. Two sparks set out to chase the bang! Bang! ~ set them running. I cut them down; I cut them down! I heard the sirens as the cops sped off the road; The squeal of hurried wheels outside the house. shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness, A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking. The bleating of the flock, The chatter of the birds amongst the trees, I recall the whisper of the morning breeze; Hyphening the broken silence as two cops stole about the house; It was midnight in August 99. Two cops set out to chase the bang; Bang! I put my hands up and the cops took me down! Judge I’m guilty, it’s true for everything they said I did; I did! But there were reasons, don’t you see: These boys; they were bullying me! I called the cops on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, came round again; still no one came; drove me insane; Two sparks set out to chase the bang! Bang set them running; I cut them down! Two cops set out to chase the bang! Bang! Yes, I put my hands up! and the cops took me down! But Mr Wolf gave me twenty, and the circus came to town; for as a victim I was lonely; but as a killer; as a killer; I was crowned. Newsworthy, top of the heap, the talk of the town!
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Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
Top of the heap?
I heard the footsteps as they came across the road; The snap of hurried feet outside the house. Shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness, A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.     The bleating of the flock, The chatter of the birds amongst the trees, I recall the whisper of the morning breeze; Hyphening the broken silence as two boys stole about the house; It was midnight in August 99. Two sparks set out to chase the bang! Bang! ~ set them running. I cut them down; I cut them down! I heard the sirens as the cops sped off the road; The squeal of hurried wheels outside the house. shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness, A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking. The bleating of the flock, The chatter of the birds amongst the trees, I recall the whisper of the morning breeze; Hyphening the broken silence as two cops stole about the house; It was midnight in August 99. Two cops set out to chase the bang; Bang! I put my hands up and the cops took me down! Judge I’m guilty, it’s true for everything they said I did; I did! But there were reasons, don’t you see: These boys; they were bullying me! I called the cops on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, came round again; still no one came; drove me insane; Two sparks set out to chase the bang! Bang set them running; I cut them down! Two cops set out to chase the bang! Bang! Yes, I put my hands up! and the cops took me down! But Mr Wolf gave me twenty, and the circus came to town; for as a victim I was lonely; but as a killer; as a killer; I was crowned. Newsworthy, top of the heap, the talk of the town!
Continue reading...
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Glitter and gold is the man in the chair with rings on his fingers and the hardened harsh stare blinded by ugliness wrists chained down by no use a man with much money he spends on abuse the term known as trafficking familiar I’m sure he’s never been one for doing what’s pure so he lays down his money flings out his cash says he’ll pay the full price for the girl with the mask just to touch her to feel her pet her cold body with his run clammy hands up her scarred legs clamp her in his ashen fist little boys too he will willingly harm because trafficking to him is a sport no need for alarm Just cows in the system of making ends meat. The poor solemn dancer the poor saddened soul the poor battered spirit angry that they’ve been sold with ***** feet and scabby legs they work to feed the king the end from him they can only beg And freedom will never ring.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Glitter and Gold
Never let someone else decide how good you are. And never make an exception to that rule. Your words, and your unique we of expressing them, are a gift given to you. If someone else doesn't appreciate them, then good for them. It's not their gift, so it has nothing to do with them. Its your responsibility to respect your gifts and to protect them from negativity; typical of these lower life forms, called Haters; annoying little creatures that feed off of other people's energy and hard work - they spawn fairly quickly and dewl in the depths of social media, hidden behind computer and smartphone screens. Usually over-weight, bad breath, single and filthy broke. Hindered by limited hand-eye coordination; they simply **** at every thing. They are pretty pathetic, in person. I mean they look human, but have no spinal cord, so they don't stand up straight. Their habitats similar to that of a large roach, just messier with and more filth. I hear they are contagious, so be careful. Don't let their negativity rub off on you, or you will end up like one of them. A soulless zombie, paroling posts looking for a something stupid to say.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Haters
Poverty's everywhere I don't like charity You don't like charity He doesn't like charity She doesn't like charity They don't like charity Congratulation we've created poverty
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
Poverty
I saw a girl once and she just gave me a smile but that was enough
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May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 3:14 PM UTC
Smile
Her lips may drip honey But her teeth drip blood She'll spend all your money She'll squander your love She's got no good intentions She's got no noble cause And all her inventions Are deadly as claws Beware the Bad Woman She's pretty as a follower She's bad things a-comin' She'll leave you sad and sour
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
Bad Woman, Bad Woman
You wear leather As dark as your heart You speak words As sharp as a knife You smell of cigarettes And sometimes cologne You wreak of Jack Daniel's But mostly depravity You lurk in the shadows And prey on the young You desire a girl But only one night You tell her your lies To trick her to stay And then like a coward You run away
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
Bad Boy
I have missed out on the thrills of being a soft place between a rock and a hard place which is a bad boy I was afraid of becoming a toy a welcome mat, stepped on repeatedly covered in dirt and worthlessness because of fear I found myself held hostage to boring love with good guys who in the end only proved to be ugly lies which led to my beautiful cries in the end, I should have taken my chances with the handsome devils who were at least good at dancing!
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Ugly Angels & Handsome devils
I feel my outsides crack. "Please-" I beg. "I take it back." A set of white teeth glisten. Bad words, mad words, I still listen. With your fingers you paint me purple and blue. Each spot a slightly different hue. Then in front of others I wear a mask. "I'm clumsy" - I tell those who ask. You are all bark- yet you bite. I shiver in fright. You tell me I'm small. What am I to you, a nut? Mr. Nutcracker.
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Nutcracker
The water haunts my house. Appearing so very often. The nights on which it comes tears apart all in its path. No one can stop it. It burns as it gets a hold of your throat and kills your insides with each sip a sip so deadly you don't realize there until it hits you so hard you cant stand correctly, so hard it slurs your words and will make you feel what anger is trapped deep inside you So deadly it makes you feel as if your dependent on it. It is planted in your mind, making you think of it every second of the day, craving the sweet relief of un-quenched thirst. Water kills you and the ones who love you. Water needs to stay in the cabinet tucked away where no harm is done. So my dad will no longer hurt himself or me and mommy. He is not deadly just the water that kills and injures. The water haunts my house.
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Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 7:12 PM UTC
Water (blank verse)
Your sweetest smile touch my soul Your sparkling teeth captivates my eyes Your beauty amazed me Your perfect like goddess Your voice turn me on But ugh"…. I turn my back on you Your heart is not pure as white Your like a devil when you speak Your like a walking bending machine Throwing bad words all around You think its good on you But nah! It will never make you beautiful If your soul is full of ****** words.
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 4:19 AM UTC
Beauty and Attitude
There are many faces of That is called poverty ... All poverty's faces are ugly Simply because that's the way with it ... No one likes poverty ,but It's over there ... As long as poverty prevails,then There are poor people Anywhere and everywhere ... _______________________________________________________________
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC
Poverty's ugly faces
The eraser erased my bad habits While the pencil drew in new ones The glue stick glued on a whole new face As the scissors cut away my background and past The ball point pen then made the changes permanent While the colored pencils shaded in my body The calculator changed my way of thinking As the sharpener grazed over my rough edges Finally, the ruler I had to measure up to your standards Now me and you We walk, talk and think the same Two moving as one I don't even know who I've become What I was before You've changed me more than you'll ever know
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
The pencil case
Roses are red Violets are blue Crippling depression Is not good for you Even though you think depression is good The crippling makes it not very good Jake searches up crippling depression But then he finds that he is depression You may think that this poem is bad You probably wont live to see another day So just be happy, and don't be sad Go follow @devenpawarr on instagram to remove your possible symptoms of crippling depression
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 1:03 PM UTC
Crippling Depression
Melancholy skies This morning Foreshadowing My ****** day
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
Melancholy skies
I've done bad, Haven't we all? At first it's a good idea, But then it starts to fall. You realise your mistake But it's already too late. -n.m.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Mistake
Focus on the Positive but do not shun Negative. Respect the Negative by way of Positive reflection. And, indeed, vice versa; as if some twisted cosmic joke, yin and yang shall interplay e'ermore, ad infinitum.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
Words be funny Tools [Positive, Negative]
Sometimes being unique is a hassle When you're in a castle Where everyone is the same And no one's like you There's no one to talk to They don't know your music Or read poetry You don't share the money That drips like honey from their clothes You don't like rap Which is readily on tap You're not athletic Makes you feel pathetic You feel so alone Unknown They're all such clones Same hair Same clothes Same likes and dislikes What's an outsider to do? You end up left out In a dark corner where nothing presides Divides you from everyone else. Sometimes being different is a hassle When you live in a castle Where being different is frowned upon.
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
Being Different
A life is made of moments Of both good and bad   In your present, On your lips All our conversations linger
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:59 AM UTC
Lingering Conversations
*You are like a corpse flower; Beautiful and rare, but with a hint of death*
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Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
Corpse Flower
writing poetry is not easy, in fact your born with it. some people say i cant do it, i agree. As i sit here next to my inspiration i think, i think and think my mind turning and turning just for the idea to come. WHEN..... i get the idea I've been looking for.
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
Bad at poetry