A woman in heaven caused the fall of man,
Even though the apple was plucked by her man.
A woman in Troy caused a ****** old war,
Brave men fought for the honour of possessing her.
A woman in Judea gave birth to a baby boy,
Whose tongue caused upheavals that's felt to this day.

A woman in a bikini is a poster for her own liberation,
While in a burka she is a symbol of her own oppression.
She must be the cause of her own sexploitations,
For her assets fulfil the ogling market's expectations.

When she's *****, it must be her fault in some way,
For as she passes by, her brethren look the other way.
A young woman is responsible for her own lynching,
If she dishonours her brethren for her lover's calling.
As a child she is the cause of her own infanticide,
For she is the bearer of ill-omens and misfortune.

Has anyone ever asked her if she wants to be a poster,
Or a commodity, or a bearer of their burden and slander?
Beware how you treat her, for she is above all a mother,
Whose hands may cradle the next saint, thief or ******.

Today I told a doctor that time heals all wounds
he said no that’s aspirin
and if  you have have allergies
you’ll need epinephrine

Today I told a priest that time heals all wounds
he said no that’s God
also prayer and hope wouldn’t hurt
if I was no fraud

Today I told a psychic that time heals all wounds
he said to get a reading and I’d be fine
and he’d throw in a magic ball
for only $9.99!

Today I told myself that time heals all wounds
as I looked in the mirror staring my body down
It better I whispered
because in this pain I soon will drown

I am obsessed with my own mortality
or maybe the fact that I believe I am immortal
how could I die?
how could any thought of mine be final?
it can't just end
I wake up everyday
eyes peeled wide
and comfortably rise from where I lay

sure others pass
but they are not me
they don't walk in my shoes
they don't see what I see
they aren't special
and I am because well...
because I believe I am
I just know I can tell

but maybe there's truth to what they say
the groundwork which they lay
treasure life every second
because it could end any day
it's sobering
to think you're nothing but a ticking timer
that someday it will eventually end
that whatever you have won't last forever

They say money is time
but technically time does not exist
so we need to make money
because time is what we make it

but money is power too
because to make money takes time
which we do not like to spend
so people who crave it quick turn to crime

but money is freedom
giving us time to do with what we wish
the power of choice
the ability to switch

but money is material you say?
simply paper?
real life is spiritual ay?
well see if a smile pays the bills

regardless of what you think
accept that money is a choice
and realize no one listens
to the man without a voice

So deface it if you will
belittle it if you want
but money is microphone
although I am no savant

I know money is money
and not much else
so treat it as such
and save yourself

I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.