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Tyler J Gallant Nov 2011
Quiet yells are heard in the night,
but screams will fill the day.
It is those taken in the light,
who put up the bigger fight.
So in the dark the faint cries stay.
Tyler J Gallant Nov 2011
Oh my my, this Facebook thing,
has a world of trouble it can easily bring.
Long, meaningless chatting, a cyber-fling,
And it only began from a new chat box ding.

The one thing you must at all costs avoid doing,
Is basing opinions on these girls, then actually pursuing.

As you tell her you’re interested, her brain will cook.
“He’s into my heart! Not that picture I took!”
The one that she uses as her seductive hook;
but as most cases play out, this is not how she'll look.

You can try and deny this, but proof lies in plain sight.
There are some exceptions, but mostly, I’m right.
A long legged appearance, instead has a midgets height,
and oh goodness, those rolls! Her "abs" looked so tight.

Well, at least she is chesty, there is no faking there!
But her best friends a water bra, life just isn’t fair.
You meet up and they’ve shrunk? Can’t help but stare.
And her clear complexion has changed? She has acne to spare.

So provocatively she chats, you can't resist, so compelling.
But just remain unresponsive, asleep, and safe in your dwelling.
Is she hot or bad-looking?  Well there’s no way of telling.
But she won’t look nearly as good, trying to save you from yelling.

So I hope you get my message, best to stay away from that game,
But I am assuming you won’t, teenage flirtation is impossible to tame.
I can only offer this advice, hoping it will keep you ridden of shame.
For as of now, if she tricks you, you have only yourself to blame.
This is some poetically written advice on how not to be fooled by an unfavorable young lady who only takes pictures of what they believe will attract a boy. Sometimes, both girls and guys go to extreme measures to impress the opposite ***, lying and posting false pictures of themselves on their profile. A little superficial? Yes. And I apologize in advance.
Tyler J Gallant Mar 2014
That shrill, screaming pluck of a string,
it sends vibrations through the air.
Bouncing off the wall and back in my ear,
but it lingers for awhile.
All the while hindering my thoughts.
My axe rendered from powerful timber,
leaking sounds that drip from the neck
like the sweat from my grip.
She rests angelically on my hip,
only to be stirred once more by an earth-quaking strum.
I begin to hum to compliment her sound,
our hearts aggresivley pounding together
and feeding like leaches off of our love for one another.
My bleeding fingers teach me to ration,
but it's futile.
For the beautiful sound is far too addictive to quit.
And my hopelessness is indicative of my lonesomeness.
As my instrument moves in, all else is lost. 
Love, but at what cost?
I am being consumed,
though content with my doom.
Continuosly, plucking furiously alone in a room.
My one and only legitimate fear,
I may wake one morning without ability to hear.
I recently picked up an electric guitar and I have been absolutely blown away and blindsided by how quickly I have developed a love for the sound of the instrument. It's quite a sensational feeling and apparently inspiring.
Tyler J Gallant Nov 2011
I will spin my web because it is what I have always done.
I will **** all life and essence out of those who boldly test my crafting.
I will spin for days and weeks and make it perfect because it is what I have always done.
I will frighten those weaker than me and cause giants to run horrified in terror.
I will lurk permanently in the dark because it is what I have always done
I will sink my piercing fangs into others for nourishment and pleasure.
I will create life to follow in my path because it is what we have always done.
And when I die alone, I will curl my eight legs into my body as I fade away,
confused about the fear a creature of my size was able to instill in so many terrifying beings.
I hate spiders... but I can feel for the little buggers.
Tyler J Gallant Nov 2011
The night ends with the moon light reflecting,
and playing so enchantingly off the lake.
I am taken away by a warm sensation infecting.
This feeling so unreal it almost seems fake.

Now I will pretend for a moment it is not there,
just to relive the joy of its intoxicating effect.
A moment in fantasy, without a pain or care
until it disappears for another to protect.

And once the moment fades it seems,
I will never again feel so blessed.
Maybe once in a dream, one perfect dream,
One rendered not from my head but my chest.

So this tranquility and I may never part,
this moonlit lake will remain in my heart.

— The End —