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#pity
I view myself as a quiet person, even though I'm loud, Maybe it's because I don't show the real me to the rest of the crowd? Or I crave being excluded so much that I envision myself in that way... --- Pain. Addictive like it's some sort of drug, A place I've grown so used to I could call it home, When in reality it's my emotions being swept under the rug. And I convince myself that I'm the victim, That I'm being pushed, and beat When really I'm tripping over the shoelaces that I myself tied together underneath my feet. And I cry and I sulk, In all this selfish pity, Wondering why? Why me? Why is it always me? Why do people like to hurt me? Oh but they don't, It's my twisted way of feeling comfort. A self sabotage, that only does more hurt. Because I don't know anything better, I don't know what real peace feels like. Only the creation in my head, And that creation is home.
0
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 10:23 AM UTC
Craving Home
i remember her lost arts between her teeth her arms like a treasure her lost interest in life when she couldn't bear the love's words her lost image in a cloud can turn me into a clay faced immortal who's already dead no matter what i am wondering if she can forgive me like i couldn't in one of her peaceful days while she simply destroys one and lives another on a different land watching and talking to the flowers that are still growing somewhere on earth we don't know her words were kind her lost contact is as soft and warm as they were all of her beliefs i drowned and set myself for a lot of shenanigans that have failed to achieve me to be who i should be i remember her lost calender and language which all of the strange lights and doors got bathed and enjoyed once with so many nymphs and demigods and celebrations of the ancient times that have ever lived and witnessed the stories of the past lovers are crying now and pity us
0
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 4:31 PM UTC
her lost arts
My thoughts are jellyfish washed up on shores made of broken hourglasses, Their tentacles tangling with the memories of footsteps I never took. The pressure of unlived lives presses down like an ocean made of lead, Drowning me in possibilities that drift away like smoke in a hurricane.
0
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 7:35 AM UTC
entwined in such pressure
“In the tumult of civil discord, the laws of society lose their force, and their place is seldom supplied by those of humanity. The ardor of contention, the pride of victory, the despair of success, the memory of past injuries and the fear of future dangers all contribute to inflame the mind and to silence the voice of pity. From such motives almost every page of history has been stained with civil blood.” Edward Gibbon wrote this in his 1776 classic, “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”
0
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 9:01 AM UTC
In the tumult of civil discord, the voice of pity is silenced
When my scars are showing am I just as pretty or am I just another soul that you pity.
0
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 10:28 PM UTC
pretty enough to pity
homesick heart ache heart is in decay a sickness known to all so who do i think i am to wallow in my own pain as if i am the first to feel well i pray that i am the last
0
Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 10:05 AM UTC
Views Inward
Such a mere desire to have, my lady. To be suffocated in sol of your life is a mere desire you thrist upon daily. Look at the cads! Look how merry they are by buffoonery while you leak of probity. How generous were you when you let his sin fall in yours. Gave a taste of your soul to a foul, I pity you my lady. I really do. In odour you seek paradise with a prize of affection yet all i see and all i will is that your kindness towards them gives them the right to ****
0
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 8:52 AM UTC
My lady!
Distraction corrupts you. As you lack interest. I am just, noise. Your ears are cushioned; absorbing a buzz. Just listen to me, respect me. Mocking me as I try to be civil. You belittle me. And the buzzing stops. Your head finally turns. You slapped the fly, and its juices neatly seat the bench, and you stare, and you don't care. I slump, melting. Clenching my jaw. You pluck my wings, and I let you. My dignity stripped. Your ego; unrestrained, unrestricted. You just watch, as my eyes blurt a river.
0
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 3:58 AM UTC
It'll Never Be Love.
i was born and on fire. my skin, open flesh wounds that bled onto anyone in a close vicinity. my face, a cloud of black dust. i knew that i had love in my heart to share with the world, but no one could see past the mold on my skin that would spread to them if they got too close. i was born into two things: a fruit that appeared ripe on the outside but leaked out a decayed, rotten mess, and the hands that opened said fruit with blood that held on. i watch the destruction i've made, that i didn't mean to make, but i believed that it was justified. i wait for someone to understand these words, not to pity me, but to find a part of themselves in me. i have found nobody. i fear that as of now, i am a walking, moldy model of decaying flesh and raw meat. i did not want to be this way. i did not want to be the black sheep. i did not want to be bad. i am a sculpture of wet clay that they could mold with their pure hands, and despite all that creativity in their alive and well minds, they have carved the word "rotten" in my flesh. ----- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- ----- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- .---- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- .---- / ----- ----- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- ----- .---- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- .---- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- 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0
May 26, 2025
May 26, 2025 at 11:18 PM UTC
rotten
i was born and on fire. my skin, open flesh wounds that bled onto anyone in a close vicinity. my face, a cloud of black dust. i knew that i had love in my heart to share with the world, but no one could see past the mold on my skin that would spread to them if they got too close. i was born into two things: a fruit that appeared ripe on the outside but leaked out a decayed, rotten mess, and the hands that opened said fruit with blood that held on. i watch the destruction i've made, that i didn't mean to make, but i believed that it was justified. i wait for someone to understand these words, not to pity me, but to find a part of themselves in me. i have found nobody. i fear that as of now, i am a walking, moldy model of decaying flesh and raw meat. i did not want to be this way. i did not want to be the black sheep. i did not want to be bad. i am a sculpture of wet clay that they could mold with their pure hands, and despite all that creativity in their alive and well minds, they have carved the word "rotten" in my flesh. ----- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- ----- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- .---- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- .---- ----- ----- .---- / ----- ----- .---- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- / ----- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- ----- .---- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- .---- ----- / ----- .---- .---- .---- ----- .---- ----- .---- / ----- .---- .---- ----- ----- ----- .---- ----- / ----- .---- 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2
Why are you having A PITY PARTY??? Why do you feel SO DOWN??? POUTING, GROANING, AND FROLICKING, JUST NOT HAPPY AT ALL, with a very NOTICEABLE FROWN!!! It's very clear that you're UNHAPPY, Feeling all BLUE INSIDE You're MOPING AROUND, feeling SORRY for YOURSELF, Oh, the AGONY that it PROVIDES, but I am Here to inform you, that In Reality, THERE IS STILL HOPE, There is still a BRIGHTER DAY, To help you along as YOU COPE, So, please don't have a PITY PARTY, Just wish those GRAY CLOUDS AWAY, Your HAPPINESS will return REAL SOON Let the SUNSHINE ENLIGHTEN YOU TODAY!!!! B.R. Date: 5/25/2025
0
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
Pity Party
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.” “bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.” “hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?” “and another one for the poor sap next to me.” “you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.” I didn’t bother responding in hopes that he’d get the hint but as expected, he was as clueless as my ex-wife and as he carried on with relentless persistency each word dug in like a cat scratch and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself. “I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?” that was it. I had enough. I finished my drink, got off the stool and headed toward the exit. “hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?” “no.” “just one more?” “NO!” I screamed. “c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?” “now look here you bumbling idiot…” “but…but…but…” he interrupted. “I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.” **** you ******* I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!” …and with that, I walked out into the dark and empty streets where they greeted me with their silence.
0
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 3:04 PM UTC
heckling the locals
“I look at you,” he told me, “and I think to myself; now here’s a guy whose got it all: he’s over fed, has a nice watch on his wrist and his shoes, although not my style, are brand new. The only thing he doesn’t have are troubles and worries.” “bartender,” I shouted, “I’ll take one more and the tab.” “hey man what about me,” he asked, “mind topping me off?” “and another one for the poor sap next to me.” “you see what I mean,” he continued. “you can afford to buy drinks for yourself and for others. as for myself, they forced me into a war I didn’t support and I also got my *** shot off for a cause unknown. I was stripped of my emotions, gutted from my life, they sodomized my psyche, carved the dream out of my head and I was never given a chance at having children or a future. and all this happened before I ever held a beer or tasted a cigarette or had a woman in my bed.” I didn’t bother responding in hopes that he’d get the hint but as expected, he was as clueless as my ex-wife and as he carried on with relentless persistency each word dug in like a cat scratch and all I could do was clench my glass tighter and tighter to contain myself. “I’ve been spit on, kicked out, beat up and let down,” he further continued. “the streets are hard and unkind and everywhere you go you’re unwanted and everything is locked. why do you think I pour into these bars late at night? to drink? naw man, I just need a place to go, a roof over my head you know?” that was it. I had enough. I finished my drink, got off the stool and headed toward the exit. “hey buddy,” he shouted, “can I get another one for the road?” “no.” “just one more?” “NO!” I screamed. “c’mon man, you’ve got everything and I’ve got nothing. what makes you better than anyone else?” “now look here you bumbling idiot…” “but…but…but…” he interrupted. “I’ve heard your tales of woe and now you’re going to listen to me,” I said sternly. “I look overfed because of poor diet and lack of exercise caused by working 60-80 hours a week with no time to take care of myself. I have a nice watch and new shoes but it came with a price. I’ve traded in my freedom for comfort, my time for materials and any chance of love for success. you say I have everything and you have nothing? I say you’re wrong. you’ve got something I no longer possess and that my friend is soul. don’t lose that. don’t buy into the mold. don’t conform. don’t become like everyone else. most of the people you see in here have imprisoned themselves into their own personal hell. that’s the way society wants it. but you’re free. truly free. and another thing… don’t worry about sorrow. everyone’s got problems and nobody wants to hear about it. why do you think people are in here? for the enjoyment? no, there here to forget. just. like. you.” **** you ******* I don’t need a lecture from you or your cheap advice. all I need is a ******* drink!” …and with that, I walked out into the dark and empty streets where they greeted me with their silence.
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33
I'm a somber soul, My baby is sick at home. I'm too far to walk, I'm too young to drive. Oh it's such a pity, Lonely with the little lows of life. My baby is sick at home, But I've just gotta pocket, All my strife to sickness.
0
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 1:57 PM UTC
My Strife To Sickness
Dear Lord, Hi, Hello there How are you? Actually and more importantly, Who are you? Who am I? Why don't you ask how am I? Don't you want to get to know me? Why don't you come down from the sky? On some devine rescue Where's the compassion? I'd settle for pity We're all blind from an eye for an eye Why can't we meet face to face, Eye to eye? You must know I don't fear you So it must be you who fears me What kind of father are you? Most figured by now You'd have come through But you seem to be afraid of anything new Of course I've turned on you Well, Turned from you But that's on you ©2024
0
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 3:10 PM UTC
~•§•~ Where are You? ~•§•~
A proud mother's push Wings spreading to catch the breeze, a baby grounded
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Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 10:31 AM UTC
Pity
Open up my wounds Drench me in my sorrow With every waking day, hand me another pill too hard to swallow It gives me thrill A taste of a dark state of bliss For who can resist another opportunity to wallow? My very own mind made misery A haven from the first sign of glee Take me there so I can go nowhere Lock me in the sanctuary under my skin.
0
Nov 6, 2024
Nov 6, 2024 at 1:10 PM UTC
Pity Please
Shall the cries of the dead be heard? When the world quites down, Do the weeping winds coax their pain? Seeping the ground for their comfort, Will the rain find it's purpose then? Will it be happy knowing it's not just a source of shallow joy for the living? Will the clouds stop crying? Out of pity for the dead, once alive, Does the sun apprise us of the regret of the day before or the one ahead, Does it pity the ones it doesn't serve, The ones dead
0
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 1:26 PM UTC
When the world quites down
A wise man once said, if you want to allow yourself a bread, you need to know how to sell yourself when he found my dusty grey shelf. Young Me asked — “What is it that I need to sell,” and he responded, “sell your laugh with a mouthful of pebbles in your mouth, then sprawl your wings of a moth and mimic a butterfly,” “But, that's All I have left!” Young me screeched - protecting the only vanity I possessed, which I put on the market so cheap, so priceless to those who never will to pay, but I demanded the bidding too high to those who gave me a worthless charity, a careless pity.
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Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 4:12 PM UTC
Pride
I’ve just had enough!” “Enough of what?” I asked “How can you not see it?” she cried “See what?”, I said ”Simply, how I’ve just had enough” “Oh…no, I see”, I confessed. “Indeed, you’ve taken more than your share”.
0
Jun 30, 2024
Jun 30, 2024 at 12:30 AM UTC
Nothing Left
Ruthless, a little cynical, hellbent on suicide It's over before it even begins tonight. Cause a scene and simply explode, Hurt the ones around you, the ones you already loved, Lose them like dominos, falling, one-by-one, it's almost appalling. Place the blame, but you know it doesn't work You've tried everything and they already know, This shade of blue doesn't look good on you, What is your true calling? Do you know what you want out of life? The signal never connects, and blood rushes to your head, Alert the others, tell them you've reached the end. It's over before it even begins, You begin to cave and shamble Can't hold it together So you explode and explain to them How much you fight. How much you try. Nobody cares. And you're in denial Again this time. It's hard to believe, that at the end of the day No one cares and no one will believe you, They'll only see You when you make an effort and See the other side.
0
Jun 25, 2024
Jun 25, 2024 at 6:34 PM UTC
already over
I can only be the me I don't want me to be I see what I want but can't have what I want to see Taking a knee to self-loathing, abandoning self-loyalty The pitiful pity the fool, it make sense then they'd pity me ©2024
0
Jun 12, 2024
Jun 12, 2024 at 12:50 PM UTC
~•§•~ Pitied by the Pitiful ~•§•~
You say quote, "it should be easy to see" that you love me Promising me, biyearly, that I'm your one and only Your heart was supposedly given to me willingly But you kept the key So I wait endlessly for you outside the entry I pine for you in spite of me Yet you waste no desire on me Avoiding anything resembling intimacy Can't even toss me something phony Hiding that half of your beauty from me While forcing me to ignore that better half of me Both instantly and, It's occurred to me more recently, Possibly for all eternity Won't blow me like I'm somehow below me I faintly remember you'd at least pity fuuck me Now I seem to turn you off completely Acting like you need to do absolutely nothing sexually Literally refusing to be seen hand in hand in public with me You constantly go out of your way to physically avoid me The reason? Because you know you've hooked me already Leaving you to instantly cancel the pageantry But is it to much to ask to willingly snuggle up close to me? Hell...it must be... Because you're giving off that type of energy While ******* the entirety of my passion till my souls empty Not s single thought on how this might affect me You've more that just damaged me But go ahead and ignore what's going to finally break me completely No, really Step back through the stage curtain and curtsy, you've beat me ©2024
0
Jun 11, 2024
Jun 11, 2024 at 4:55 PM UTC
~•§•~ Flop Flip ~•§•~
why do u always look up when u are sad ? at least the starts will look at the tears that people failed to see
0
May 7, 2024
May 7, 2024 at 11:04 PM UTC
stars
here i am on a train ride on it for the first time in years when it was supposed to be with you this year we made plans to travel more together many times and we wanted to make it work this time around but now it ***** that you ain’t here maybe it’s for the best maybe it’s meant for me to make memories with my girls maybe we were not meant to make any more memories and be each other’s first time for everything you were great, but you were broken and you dragged me down the pit with you as selfish as I can be as a person you were way worst than i can ever be i loved you with you all my heart but now all I have left to offer you is my rage i don’t wish you the best i don’t wish you happiness i wish you'd cry regret suffer for all the torture you’ve put me through
0
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 3:00 AM UTC
you were great, but you were broken
Part of me says stay small, part go big Part says eat your fill, part don’t pig Kenko says: long life brings many shames I say the gray sky brings winter, no blame The impassable mountains we revere Moderate the force of wind and water Get the cement truck into the refrigerator We shall honor all of life sooner or later Anything can happen if you don’t resist To get lucky you gotta be careful first You discover dying’s much like living Who should I thank for the pity of things? O to have the smile of a lover Who wouldn’t rather be elsewhere!
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Jun 13, 2023
Jun 13, 2023 at 6:23 AM UTC
The Pity of Things