#notmypresident
Cash Rules Everything Around Me. Ayyyyeee
I HATE that s***
It can't buy me love
It can't buy me happiness
Can it buy back the lives
Of those have finally went
Home to the other side?
It doesn't grow on trees.
I believe that's a **** lie!
Never even question why
the sadness comes
Sometimes, I don't even know it's happening!
There's many ways to skin a potato.
But ya know, I am old fashioned.
Tomatoe. Tomato. Another bottle.
You can't drink away the trouble and sorrow.
As if there's no tomorrow!
The sins of our nature
Is our biggest threat to our nation
Along with this *******
Having issues with immigration!
Pfff. Land of the free...
But most of us can't afford patience!
That's nothing compared to
The net worth of YOUR life
is only a small loan of a few bucks.
I trust a lot, things but **** a stimulus!!!
.
Feb 4, 2021
Feb 4, 2021 at 9:38 AM UTC
When I look at her face,
a small child who is "she"
and it's clear she has no
idea of stale ideals that block her
path
You are a small angel, and
you're unaware of trails that look like gold
There is truth: they are just gift-wrapped.
hiding "be polite.
"don't sit like that.
"cross your legs.
Here is your truth: You are not small. You are full of magic and there is no path that you don't own.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 11:05 PM UTC
My wall was not always stained red;
the map that hangs upon it has bled
from state and country and continent,
the scarlet of a million lives
seeped through porous paper skin,
akin to the breached security of violated hearts,
severed arteries never to be rejuvenated
with the livelihood of broken nations -
left to weep,
wounds unhealable in the pained whirlpool of terror and tragedy.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
America, rollin’ its dice,
hurlin’ ‘nades on the ice.
what're we lookin’ for?
***** we huntin’ for?
whether it’s a score to settle
or another lie to peddle
where do we go from here?
how ‘bout that future we held dear?
gone, done, buried, shunned.
eat crow, ***** retch, and—
run?
don’t run. can’t run.
these colors don’t run, I’ve heard.
though maybe they flow against
each other like water and
oil in a grating chemical fash-
ion that can’t be calculated
or be sufficiently integrated
like we dreamed they would.
and dream we do, for America
and her future, or so I hope,
given that each year that passes
leaves bruises and gashes
in that fabric, so fragile, I hear.
sad, wrong, and crooked;
Trump’s America.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
i haven't left my bed in almost 2 days
the blankets keep me sheltered and safe
there's love in these blankets
here i am free to be me
free to be black
free to be gay
just free
there is no one telling me to "go pick cotton" or to "get to the back of the bus"
i'm allowed to love who i want without worrying someone is going to throw a brick at me
there are no slurs in here
i'm free
i'm safe
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 7:31 PM UTC