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I was turned out like a worm out
onto the street where the meat rots
And the ***** and the "thots"
weren't giving it up
so I killed until I ****
and I **** until I ****.
The pills aren't memories
but I swallow them tenfold
because I'm twenty years old
and a ***** and a failure to my mother
who smothers me in affection and rejection
until the next election when a woman
will get into the office and **** my dad off
so we can argue and so I can have no one
that accepts me for me for me for me for me.

My country 'tis of thee
multiple states
states of mind
but no
we we we we we.

Hummingbirds have hearts
that beat too slow you know
you know I'm dying to die
for you and me
to appease my country
'tis of thee.
The Lonely Bear Apr 2015
You know what's hard to grasp?
The thought that there might be a man up there trying to stop a man downstairs from dragging me into the basement.
You see what I meant is that its hard to grasp the idea of a deity parting the clouds so there can be light for me.
Am I wrong to deny that a book is evidence?
When its been around since before my grandfather's great grandmother was even a thought?
Its a little hard to grasp
That this man would create beautiful people and destroy them with just one emotion.
"God loves you"
If I am supposed to take what I hear and form my life around this God I'd rather be taken by the man downstairs or maybe I just don't hate myself enough.
I'm supposed to see what Christians see the only problem is my vision isn't like a CAT scan covered in mud.
This Jesus bled the blood of our sins but once again I just can't grasp that.
So God gave his son for the world but when has he forsaken himself
That question can't be asked because the preacher will push it to the back of the shelf with "He died for us"
We can't help ourselves because that's Gods plan
Or at least that's what we say when we can't do anything.
Personally I hope there is a God so that when I die I can personally tell him
Man you're doing a ****** job.
The Lonely Bear Apr 2015
The moonlit skies light up the forest that is my mental state
Always moving the wind through the trees like the sea in a hurricane spraying water into the lake of my mental forest that I have the deed to.
Raindrops fall into my minds stream moving through the weeds and depths of its ever flowing path that leads to my subconscious
You see
The raindrops falling are the tears of atrophy that decay this streams will
And as these drops form a raging storm this stream gets faster trying to ignore them like the stop signs in my headlights and I just keep driving faster
Until I drive right back to where I started and deal with the rain all over again
See my grandmother always told me lighting can't crack my will but lately a pen drop could shatter it.
The Lonely Bear Aug 2014
White padded walls
That's what I see Day in and day out
This isn't what I wanted to be
I realize now that I'm crazy
That's why it's an insane asylum that contains me
I acted upon impulse
Not thinking of the horrifying result
I'm the outcome of a terrible tragedy that I went the wrong way about
And now without a doubt
I regret my actions
The interactions that I had without thinking twice
And now I pay the price
I was angry and they didn't deserve this
It wasn't up to me to end the life that they lived
The small child in the crib. The life for you that there could have been.
But I took that from you
And there is so much I would do to give it back
The only things that's possible to say is that I'm sorry
But sorry just won't do it. It won't make up for what I've taken from you.
All because I was angry and didn't think I could muster a smile. All the while I could've focused on what was good
But I didn't think twice and thought my sadness was yours and my mind took the wrong course
And made me think I couldn't make you happy anymore.
All I think about is the blood on the floor of your mothers and yours.
I'm sorry child. For my actions that had gone wild. The whole situation isn't right.
How could I have done this?
How could I have put you on the receiving end of the knife
When I was the one who gave you life.
The Lonely Bear Aug 2014
Things aren't as easy as our parents make them out to be
A future of success is hard to see
When hopeful thoughts are lost in cigarette daydreams
torn apart at the seams
Lost in a sea of sadness and sorrow
It'll be just the same tomorrow
In the world nowadays we have to make our brains hallucinate to cope with hate
On the news each day we see the result of a ****, a ******, or a prison escape
We see violence and riots
Cannibals and car bombs setting the innocent aflame
We bury the dead and for a day act as if we remember everything they once said
And just like that
We become the monsters we looked for under our beds
And tomorrow
It'll all be the same
The Lonely Bear Aug 2014
To understand pain you must have experienced it
Some say they understand
But have the nerve to tell someone in true pain to get over it.
As if the pain could be quelled with time and no help
As if theyve ever had to hide all the pain behind a smile and had it rough
Like theyre playing off a bluff in a game of cards
and never had to deal with the pain of a broken heart
And never had to put up with the insults like ***, nerd, emo and goth just because they wanted to be different and thought people would love it
But the insults cut deep like a knife wielding creep that keeps stabbing deeper until it finally hits the core
And you just cant take anymore
You think youve had it tough
When the person beside you has a life even more rough
They go home each day and cant help but say "I am not good enough"
So its their wrists that they cut
Like a dissection gone wrong
Going through depression
With sadness that comes back over and over like a sick obsession
And still people sit there and with aggression tell them that theyre stupid and will never go anywhere and keep a cold stare with a deep hate as if they cant come to accept them and judge the outside without knowing the beauty of their personality and when in reality they are the kindest person you could ever meet but the "cool kids" find them unacceptable
They are susceptible to pain because of the way their life is going like the crash of a long dark passenger train
The tears in their eyes are caused by the fears of being hated
On the inside they are amazing and its simply love they are craving
For once perhaps you could care and help them feel at home
Because it hurts be alone.
My first poem written. I want to thank Poet writers society for bringing me out of my shell and sharing it

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