#offence
Offence has no real validity,
Yet it is used to justify the taking of lives
Is there one, that the world does not offend
If so that person has not lived or felt,
Warlords, rapists, racists, murderers and those who are cancers on society walk among us daily
Those who profess to know the will of god and act on his behalf,
Perceiving and executing unhelpful dogma that infects our reality
The words respect and correctness have become harbingers for cowards,
As our muteness silently strips us of our freedom,
Apologies are offered gift wrapped in fear
Sticks and stones still break our bones but pictures and words now **** us**
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
#**The audience went missing
The title ,totally stole the show**#
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 1:21 PM UTC
The worst
Place to be
On a battle field,
Is taking cover
From the man
Firing at you with
Blank rounds.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
An itch of an inch – scratching to reach that place we once
walked; it was almost the measure of love; with elevating
conversations that led to a level of trust. Now wearing linen
divorce clothes, to separate the time that wore us down; as I
carried a smile in a frown; as we all plant a seed of respect we
have for others, hoping in due time it flourishes.
But trust me, winter is loveless – summer is the state of your
heart, where the sun still longs to shine even when it’s hidden
behind the clouds. Love is needless, to those who only respond
by the own feelings; looking for someone just to entertain them,
by only giving them a good feeling.
As all my bones break in despair; at the sound of the skeletons,
I must break in my closet – my soul shakes like the trees caught
in a storm; with electric branches. I’ve been struck down; made
to be someone with no passion, no meaning, or digression.
Passive-aggressive – only out of annoyance; for an inch of my
life, revolves around entertaining people who show pieces of
their true colours, and still expect me to act colourblind.
_How they offend my sight!_
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 2:58 PM UTC
The heart wants
The hand speaks
Through the middle ground
The birdie flies well tempered
Peaks
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 3:57 AM UTC