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#misrepresentation
When I rewrite you, every letter bleeds— as if you are the last address of hope, the final breath I’m forced to spend. Why was mercy so easily given to everyone else, and denied to me? Who told you I was less human? We loved once. Don’t deny it. But when we left, We left the mess— for followers to pick through the remains, to turn our wreckage into an empire of stories. We never had closure. We never even began. But don’t ever say, We never happened. Now I know, All those times— It was me. It was you. It was two untrained creatures locked in a cage.
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Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 12:15 AM UTC
When I rewrite you
Tank all your profiles, Cause they're tightening a snare. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 are you identifying? Are these my views? Is that my perspective? Is it 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦? Tank all your profiles, Cause it's harder to get ******* physical than digital. It's either a check or an x To be marked onto your square. A few fascists' dream Is a legislative nightmare.
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May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 7:13 PM UTC
Online Misrepresentation
I have no stock in a generation Who does not care whether There is social security enough left To secure my retirement, A system I have paid into tiringly. If you want to end it Be sure I receive my back checks, Or risk being strung by the neck. I have no assurances I will even be allowed to retire, Only assured those in the house Could not care less As to such questions of great importance. They busy themselves with war, While we suffer and only grow more poor And have no interest in developing industry or infrastructure here at home. They know nothing of the branch Only the rich fruit of the olives, Whatever ripe can be harvested. Yet, they know not how to sow.
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Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 11:57 AM UTC
At The Expense Of The Tree
You people that say “There aren’t any gays In my race or church!” You’re so wrong, I say. You’re so wrong It will be hard to get back To right, you know, Where you went off track. You people that say There are no gays In our holy country You’re wrong too, I say. You’re hiding something About yourself to say it. You’re driving yourself crazy The way you want to play it. You people that say “Jesus hates blacks and gays!” You are totally wrong That’s not what the book says. You people that think You know the path to heaven Couldn’t find you way If it was at the Seven Eleven. You people that say “God damns you people to hell!” Haven’t read that book Or understand it very well. The book never has Jesus To utter one punishing word. So, where did it come from, All that hatred you have heard? You people that say “There aren’t any gays In my race or church!” You’re so wrong, I say. You’re so wrong It will be hard to get back To right, you know, Where you went off track.
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Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 11:18 PM UTC
WRONG!
You are fighting again And want me to come To worship at your temple Of the dazed and dumb Who are led so easily By the mention of God And find us who question To be diseased or odd. Don’t sing us songs About your holy wars. That is really not what Praying and progress are for. You dress yourself in medals And thousand dollar suits And pretend merchants Are not your family roots. You think to disguise profit As your one raison d’etre So you speak flowery nothings And haven’t made sense yet. We have untold resources To heal the lame and poor. Endless war is not what Praying and progress are for. You create your holy mantras About defense and protection While every kind of help for us Meets with official rejection. You make excuses to invade And make money out of death. Then, make up tales of threats Until you’re almost out of breath. Don’t sing us songs About your holy wars. That is really not what Praying and progress are for. We have untold resources To heal the lame and poor. Endless war is not what Praying and progress are for.
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Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
RECESSIONAL
BIG BUT… I’m a tolerant type of person So, I try to look at others leniently. (But...) You sent the fox to guard the hen house, That kind of thinking doesn’t makes no sense to me. I don’t know why you took the stance That this was such a clever thing to do. (But…) Then with all the chickens gone You tried hard to blame everyone but you. You got to look out for that big but. It gets in the way of so much you say. You always seem to show that big but. It’s gonna bit you in the end someday. Your peers have chosen to trust in you. They sent you to work to represent their case. (But…) You took it as a treasure chest And ran amok, and now you are off base. Your corruption is nearly absolute You job is to care what the people think (But…) You lost touch with what you are Right now you don’t know just how much you stink. You got to look out for that big but. It gets in the way of so much you say. You always seem to show that big but. It’s gonna bite you in the end someday.
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
BIG BUT...
The lakes and streams filled with natures goodness, Skys eerie and filled with only questions, The lilting laughs of the young playful women, And the prompting for springtime suggestions. I was always laughed at then, ridiculed, a joke. In the mornings I would bring with me as always Oats and honey for breakfast. Your beautiful doe Eyes always batted at me. I was youthful, bearded face, Strong lean body. My friends had all but abandoned me. Everyone said we were evil, poisoned fruit from a tree. The bon fire lit agains all of our faces, sparks flying into the sky. The woven basket filled with dates, nuts and rice, My work never finished, speaking of kindness, of life. They thought I was there to ruin them, to give them over To the authorities. My dream was to inspire them and give Them a better understanding of innocent philosophies, Never once did I mention eternal suffering or grief, let Alone the way a life without pain. I was there to enliven Their lives with music, with fine art, wild unruly entertainment, I never quite respected the forceful authority figures or The scorn of those who wanted us to "behave," But for one reason or another, everyone sought to clean Up each of my statements. But you were there, amazon lady, with such strength, And I your effeminate match, how could it be that I'd found Such a catch? Our story would go on to be silenced, Bound with lies, why? Because when they found Out the truth about us, they sought to change It to something popular, so they could sell it.
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Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
Past Ties
The lakes and streams filled with natures goodness, Skys eerie and filled with only questions, The lilting laughs of the young playful women, And the prompting for springtime suggestions. I was always laughed at then, ridiculed, a joke. In the mornings I would bring with me as always Oats and honey for breakfast. Your beautiful doe Eyes always batted at me. I was youthful, bearded face, Strong lean body. My friends had all but abandoned me. Everyone said we were evil, poisoned fruit from a tree. The bon fire lit agains all of our faces, sparks flying into the sky. The woven basket filled with dates, nuts and rice, My work never finished, speaking of kindness, of life. They thought I was there to ruin them, to give them over To the authorities. My dream was to inspire them and give Them a better understanding of innocent philosophies, Never once did I mention eternal suffering or grief, let Alone the way a life without pain. I was there to enliven Their lives with music, with fine art, wild unruly entertainment, I never quite respected the forceful authority figures or The scorn of those who wanted us to "behave," But for one reason or another, everyone sought to clean Up each of my statements. But you were there, amazon lady, with such strength, And I your effeminate match, how could it be that I'd found Such a catch? Our story would go on to be silenced, Bound with lies, why? Because when they found Out the truth about us, they sought to change It to something popular, so they could sell it.
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