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#grimy
~A grimy, grimace of a grungy summer day~ Good Morning! let the un-fun sting, as the ardor never begins, forecast a grimy grimace of a lousy day ahead, at best, a clouded mess, just to differentiate between bereaved periods of rain, that train you in windows~ avoidance, for a grunge gloomy invades all six senses (including the brain) where all are concatenated), and you can actually feel the pallor descending from brow to the bow of your container, feet swelling, and you in addition to avoiding windows, put some towels out over all the mirrors, lest your pallor, ah, too late, the grim grimace of grunted day arrived even before the poem was conceived, I deceived, once more, the bore drill drives a tubular of despondency into my spinal seam Whether Weather Wither Whine Wailing Willy-Nilly  Wade  Why Why Writer Why, Writer?
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Jul 30, 2024
Jul 30, 2024 at 8:43 AM UTC
Why Writer? ~A grimy, grimace of a grungy summer day~
Cries ring out around the room. Beg me once more. I will not stoop. The shelter is crumbling. Walls turning pink. Windows fogging up, the gas has leaked. Trembling hands reach, no satisfaction is given. The argyle rug we live on is frayed. Rat bones pile in the corners. Starvation came and went. Matted hair is stretched with the fingers. Plucking and prodding. Dirtied face, green as the curtains. Pressing deeper into the walls. The next course is served. A dead dream, warts, rotted meat. The others fight for the meat. I rip a piece of the dream. Bring a finger to the lips and shush. The dream stops screaming. Blue skies and honeyed words capture. Fading into the carpet, resting my head on the bones. A scratch strikes the entrance. Silence. Screech. Hiss. Silence. We open the door, then close it. It is not an exit after all. The girl to my left, blinks at me. I tell her no, not yet. I will wait for the exit. She blinks once more. We just have to wait for it. Glazed eyes meet mine. She crumbles. The next course has been served.
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Oct 13, 2023
Oct 13, 2023 at 12:51 PM UTC
The Dinner Party
******* are itches like skin conditions forget the admissions and feelings and visions find yourself in a position where decisions are void, because there's no choice, no recognition, my voice is an imposition With no occupation, or real reason to function I'll spend my money on medication 'til I'm believing what I'm seeing Something is weighing on my mind heavy, roll up another blunt-skin, crack open another bevy, Something is playing with my mind lately, just write a couple bars Yeah, that'll tell them nothing maybe My hopes were up, but they have come down It's too often we carve a smile out of a frown just to fit in            when we were born to stand out So as a rule tell others how you feel, not let em figure out Honesty's my policy, unless I think they're on to me and now I've lied again I better turn my life around In a short life, I've been much, I've been proud I've been up, I've been down, I've been chewed and spat out Left out in the sun, left out to dry up on the ground But all the aspirations that I'll never meet, can be recycled to ambition if I get back on my feet, But all the things I was promised, that's deceit the act or practice of deceiving, concealment or distortion of the truth, for the purpose of misleading, so they got me bleedin' and everything I want, I'm not receiving and everything I need, I know they're keeping
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Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:54 AM UTC
Decisions, Impositions and Lies (I)
Just *** for me  Release all your energy  Just focus on now  Feel my tong go round  Your beautiful ****  Feel my **** on her  Bite your lip    Enjoying my every touch with a purr   Arms wrapped around your thighs,  This will be my demise  Your taste I crave  With every breath, I must chase  The idea away  Of having you stay  With me, here  For our futures, they fear  We are addicted in fact   To each other, not the act  A bonus to our presents  Is knowing each others talents  They fear, we will stay near  To our roots, but we know we must go  To the unknown  The world beckons  To go far and wide, we must learn lessons  This area cannot offer   So we must go  What will the journey behold?   Will I find you again?  Or will you find another man?  I hope he’s cool calm and collected   Can support you with through everything  Treats you right   Not just at night  but also in the day light.
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
get grimy
*In this bitter hate ridden  world Let's appreciate those incredible few Who wake up and smile brightly At the sun shining above the grimy smog.*
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
Untitled
Who want's a love poem? A thing about some guy and some girl and how something's just so **** blissful or just so **** sad and dramatic? ***** that. How about we find something we can swallow? How about we forget our little cry-c's, and take half a **** second to to to write a **** love poem...
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Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
nonconformist's dilema