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"accommodates" poems
This little man that I know with money in his sockets and routine in his pockets has self proclaimed that he is a tight *** When I envision a *** such as this, I imagine a bundle -- of securely aggregated, perfectly sharpened number two pencils. The businessman just shy of adulthood and too tired to remember –even the beginning of his of disclosure, denied his struggle to acclimate a multifarious lifestyle, appropriately suggested in the form of a triangle, and a circle, both of which embody polar opposing adaptations of humanistic routine. The two shapes: The circle, denies the break in motion by imposing a constant cycle of diligent compression, there is no room for pause only steady flow and relentless drive. This influence of life impression slows down the heart, body, and soul while speeding up time. This particular commitment accommodates the dry colorless beings that embrace and accept boxed imprisonment. Traditionally, the triangle denotes rhythmic patterns that elevate and drop to a point in which imposes a healthy reflective pause: progression, reflection, balance. As stated, as a provincial approach, a regular triangle flat on its base, peaking at the top represents a healthy, solid life routine. In contrast, the triangle can be flipped upside-down introducing an entirely new dynamic, composed of flat-lined monotony, tapered off to a regressed realm of destruction, regret and disorder. Despite the uniqueness of the standard triangle model to the man in question, it is important to compare the negative reflection, for it applies to the entirety of this investigation. We used to be lovers, he and I. We shared my giant pillow-top that I bought on the black market for a meager two-hundred fifty. -- A mere steal at that rate. We occasionally exchanged ideas, mainly about ethical concerns related to globalization and the environment. I attempted to give him a cooking lesson once, but that failed, indefinitely. The bust was not my doing, but simply, a great disinterest on his part; or better yet an inability of not being better than me at something. Everything has gotten so crowded.
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Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 1:17 AM UTC
something that happens.
This little man that I know with money in his sockets and routine in his pockets has self proclaimed that he is a tight *** When I envision a *** such as this, I imagine a bundle -- of securely aggregated, perfectly sharpened number two pencils. The businessman just shy of adulthood and too tired to remember –even the beginning of his of disclosure, denied his struggle to acclimate a multifarious lifestyle, appropriately suggested in the form of a triangle, and a circle, both of which embody polar opposing adaptations of humanistic routine. The two shapes: The circle, denies the break in motion by imposing a constant cycle of diligent compression, there is no room for pause only steady flow and relentless drive. This influence of life impression slows down the heart, body, and soul while speeding up time. This particular commitment accommodates the dry colorless beings that embrace and accept boxed imprisonment. Traditionally, the triangle denotes rhythmic patterns that elevate and drop to a point in which imposes a healthy reflective pause: progression, reflection, balance. As stated, as a provincial approach, a regular triangle flat on its base, peaking at the top represents a healthy, solid life routine. In contrast, the triangle can be flipped upside-down introducing an entirely new dynamic, composed of flat-lined monotony, tapered off to a regressed realm of destruction, regret and disorder. Despite the uniqueness of the standard triangle model to the man in question, it is important to compare the negative reflection, for it applies to the entirety of this investigation. We used to be lovers, he and I. We shared my giant pillow-top that I bought on the black market for a meager two-hundred fifty. -- A mere steal at that rate. We occasionally exchanged ideas, mainly about ethical concerns related to globalization and the environment. I attempted to give him a cooking lesson once, but that failed, indefinitely. The bust was not my doing, but simply, a great disinterest on his part; or better yet an inability of not being better than me at something. Everything has gotten so crowded.
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7
If I were ****** I'd choose Scientology. Or Mormonism. Probably both. Jews are too cool. I love their culture of practical intelligence that accommodates science and atheism in a dark world of savagery and jealousy their light shines like a radiant star or the soft glow of a candle-lit minora. Scientology and Mormonism are decadent, creepy and ridiculous.
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
Personal ******
Birds chirp, the winds blow, And as the sun sets, we give the day a bow. Clean Colorado accommodates commoners from Lincoln's Land. We've ditched the silt and the sand; Stranded in a glimpse of a possible past, here I stand. Elated by elevation, tranced by trepidation, the group's gaze encounters a misty haze, Followed by copious amounts of precipitation. Pick up the pace; though we won't win the race To the dry car and a full case. Hell is the home of a heathen's heart; Heaven holds promise a bright new start. Existence on earth extends only for so long; For now we're here, soon to be gone. Early mornings shed light on a promising day; Late nights cast spells we drunkenly obey Perched in a chair by a growing fire, the consuming flames ascend higher and higher. Ignited embers blown astray, Trails of smoke follow its prey. Back on the highway. Homeward bound, the only sounds Are the stories and gestures that say Not what we lost, but what we found.
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Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 10:27 PM UTC
Camping
I fall in love with the sound of the rain as it hits my window pane It comforts me as I lye in bed at night and reflect on all that is dead I fall in love with you as the snow falls lightly, and embrace every moment that we spent together. I fall in love with the crinkle in your noise The one that slowly appears every time you smile that brilliant smile and laugh that wondrous laugh **I fall in love whilst talking to you, The way you talk, laugh makes my day so much better!** I fall in love with the smile of a stranger on the street When they give me a gentle beam as our eyes meet In that moment I don't feel so lonely **I fall in love with the way you run The rhythmic beating and the sweat, They help me decode your personality from stranger to bff** I fall in love with the cool side of my pillow on a hot summers night When my body is begging for relief from the summer heat and it thoughtfully accommodates my pleas **I fall in love with rhythmic waves from the ocean Poseidon sends us, It gives me a reason to hug you when you get cold** I fall in love with the sunset, each time I lay my eyes on it As the sun slowly sinks into horizon to create such a sublime image My eyes always dazzled more and more each time My parts are in bold for easier identification.
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
I fall in love with
When floating on down avenues of deep subconscious remember to stare upwards for at least 10 minutes a day and contemplate the life of a cloud; To that transitory vapour, project with your iris the world you wish to manifest in passing minutes towards that passing station- internal vision dominates the human mind speculates and accommodates, what it wants to see - with each passing minute with each wasted day Life flashes before eyes concrete and grass lying down and getting lost in a deep death that breeds everything and nothing, Dissipating contradictions in the sky.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC
Philosophy of Cloud Watching
Our world today is filled with lies and painful rage Wars, destruction, and fear with senseless hate Many Leaders’ obsessions to become super great Led to Killings without thinking of the one who creates Don’t they worry about the day in hell they’d suffocate Or is it lack of faith, yet thinking everything is fate All they worry about is how history will narrate Heroes, or villains, depends on how you translate sometimes depends on how your faith accommodates Christians believe their faith is superior you shall celebrate Muslims believe heaven is through their way you must navigate Didn’t God tell you to him only you must dedicate? And killing your own is a sin that he shall not tolerate Yet behind the mask of religion you all instigate A war of self- interest then meaninglessly advocate “The older you grew, the wiser you became” Oh, Wait, wait, wait! could you illustrate? Because our leaders have grown into a psychological stage of “Childate” Making decisions that even a child wouldn’t appropriate Now I tell you, the end of the world we shall anticipate For peace is far, far, far away from the stairs of our gates Pray to the only God who taught us how to appreciate And hope that one day Humans will better communicate
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
Our Leaders Today
She, betrayed, in histrionic flow, Heart akimbo, flailing at the sky, Fired with voyeuristic need-to-know, Rages at the outing of a lie. He, defensive, understanding, sure, Accommodates the outburst in his stride. Lassoes her with a practiced sinecure; Instinctive gesture, expertly applied. She, bewildered, aimless and morose – (He, distracted by the barmaid’s hips) – Casts aside the guilt-effacing rose; Repealed devotion scrawled upon her lips.
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Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
Afterwords
Rustic, fresh, sweet, strong, light, deterring, sweet, strong pheromones. Yellow lamp, shining bright, reveals red bumps. Ceramic seat accommodates the focal point for personal evaluation. Girl competes with guy. Six-inch, dark- pink light-pink like petals by the bed stand. Mason jar and silhouette car and sticky leather seats. Ears protrude, far out, but he hears less than she. Automatic diamond needle; 20th century piece. Thick, rich black hair parted down the middle Fiddle with 'er keys. Minty menthol gags inspire thievery from neon **** Divorce rate ascends, over mountains of cologne. But the crystal stick never does the trick.
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
Pheromones
It the competition bro, It’s the competition bro. Its them against us, it us against them. Reactions rooted in our brain stem, **** them means win. We compete against our own human skin, our own akin, Luke Anakin, I’m your father. Competition have you Kane and Able, killing your own brother. Competition is division, submission, inferiority, hierarchy, inequality, habituated, into a sophisticated jungle of pleasure and identity.   Can’t realize equality within a system grounded in competitive mentalities, the Olympics, our games, who you rooting for? Lebron James, it’s all the same. You can stand against hate, you can hate injustice, throw you money and morals, type a tweet and rest on your laurels, but till competition dies,  it matters not what's spoken oral. It’s all a power struggle, its us against them, and somehow the ideal is everybody wins? The hierarchy continues and you are a part of what's condemned. Lets not continue to pretend that its all racial, competition accommodates all ends.     This dynamic wont change, don’t hold your breathe, number one death is cardiac arrest. Fatality by food, that’s fear and survival, too much is never enough….don’t be fooled or get political correct tough, competition is cannibal, makes us remain animals, breeds one to see threat, to defeat and make victory one’s meat, to compete and civilly eat another person's heart beat.
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Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 1:53 PM UTC
The Root of Inequality
It is early in the morning There is a high power consumption. Youth and adults, 1, 1 And from this it does not follow, The word comes from the Gunman "Huntersville'' That the birds into the large one State governors, the average global Cool dollar and chat rooms for musical instruments; white horse, and he that all kinds of musical, in the light of to protect the US border, and vitamins from the air Teal Green The power of the stars. do Will not make mention, and what the The number and on the number of games lunch: Some computer to sleep thee, that it may be well with thee,        in the time of all the programs. Marcus' head without a body Accommodation of the population I do not know how the vitamins The law is essential to the human the right to security, then heard to pop. Remove. This is a hound dog and a dog. Of the more than 1 kids, shots Indeed, in Macau. The nose and the eyes of New Havensville; their thumbs and their great toes cut off,                   for the multitude, Thus the best soccer kids enjoy 1=1 United States, and all the other players; A vitamin A and ink color; in virtue of stars. Hearing read the smell of the Sun. The legacy of the Levi Exchange; You desire it, so that we may at all times. Laura's body+head | To them without you A people do not know It is from this that he was one of vitamins and human rights in the muscle record should be respected. Huntersville wonderful eyes, nose, Click to the reforms of the grain, it seems you are doing the best soccer 1 On the other kids and players The quality of the air quality From the color of the protection of the skin such as vitamin A The power of the stars. Clothing? Hearing the smell of the sun The legacy of Levi Exchange; You desire it, so that we may at all times. Laura's body without a head Accommodates the population It teaches the vitamins Exceptions to the rules to diminish. A muscle's records must be respected. Sun came up And wine to the ceiling, which is the soul. More White House, is it? Lesson 1: I Ipeba Martinique I. William and fingers to big cities The destruction of the great; Dollars are walking and scores; The bride is essential below And killed children in the US; The rate of burning material White or white and with vitamins Remember history is Clear; The sound to the correct the further them and the enemy. AH! And I do not have to carry The disease conversation; But the 100 degrees of pain. Memory to share with you security challenges. Long for you, so that as little as possible At that time  could have no place to fall. Museum Vitamin A is part of                                                                                   Venus If you normally do not know, Chewing offices do work.
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
Laura's Body Without A Head
It is early in the morning There is a high power consumption. Youth and adults, 1, 1 And from this it does not follow, The word comes from the Gunman "Huntersville'' That the birds into the large one State governors, the average global Cool dollar and chat rooms for musical instruments; white horse, and he that all kinds of musical, in the light of to protect the US border, and vitamins from the air Teal Green The power of the stars. do Will not make mention, and what the The number and on the number of games lunch: Some computer to sleep thee, that it may be well with thee,        in the time of all the programs. Marcus' head without a body Accommodation of the population I do not know how the vitamins The law is essential to the human the right to security, then heard to pop. Remove. This is a hound dog and a dog. Of the more than 1 kids, shots Indeed, in Macau. The nose and the eyes of New Havensville; their thumbs and their great toes cut off,                   for the multitude, Thus the best soccer kids enjoy 1=1 United States, and all the other players; A vitamin A and ink color; in virtue of stars. Hearing read the smell of the Sun. The legacy of the Levi Exchange; You desire it, so that we may at all times. Laura's body+head | To them without you A people do not know It is from this that he was one of vitamins and human rights in the muscle record should be respected. Huntersville wonderful eyes, nose, Click to the reforms of the grain, it seems you are doing the best soccer 1 On the other kids and players The quality of the air quality From the color of the protection of the skin such as vitamin A The power of the stars. Clothing? Hearing the smell of the sun The legacy of Levi Exchange; You desire it, so that we may at all times. Laura's body without a head Accommodates the population It teaches the vitamins Exceptions to the rules to diminish. A muscle's records must be respected. Sun came up And wine to the ceiling, which is the soul. More White House, is it? Lesson 1: I Ipeba Martinique I. William and fingers to big cities The destruction of the great; Dollars are walking and scores; The bride is essential below And killed children in the US; The rate of burning material White or white and with vitamins Remember history is Clear; The sound to the correct the further them and the enemy. AH! And I do not have to carry The disease conversation; But the 100 degrees of pain. Memory to share with you security challenges. Long for you, so that as little as possible At that time  could have no place to fall. Museum Vitamin A is part of                                                                                   Venus If you normally do not know, Chewing offices do work.
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84
NOON A whole day lives in a room That accommodates the noon, Which is just before the afternoon And when no one sees the moon. No one regards the noon, But yet regard afternoon Which comes after the visitation of the noon. By heart dances to the noon tune, When I'm said to be immune And is unheard of having danger loom, While it stays in its room. Approaching comes the noon with fumes, Even without perfumes, Giving a beautiful tune Than that of a sand dune. A minute lasts the noon, When silence may last in a room, So does the noon leave boom, Thereby leaving the afternoon To rule the rest of the day, Before the approach of the moon. But look... Approaching comes the noon.
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Feb 8, 2020
Feb 8, 2020 at 5:28 AM UTC
NOON
Emotions are my lesson on what can hurt my pride This is something of digression through how I live my life Tainted like a disease I exclude myself from the obscene With the means to indulge I rather not intervene Cause there is anger entwined and my actions may be attracting And progression is effective and might be a distraction So a act of silence is common to one's things But belligerence accommodates inevitable change Thus, what was lost shall be another aberration For which it stands for your toleration Under fraud and nothing at all.
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Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 8:20 AM UTC
...Inside myself....
There is infinity in our words In our minds And in our numbers There is infinity in this sentence In more ways than one How do I know? I know because I know that you know that I know that you know that I know that you know that I know etc There’s comparatively little paper & ink So I’ll keep this short: It creates the problems that it solves, in infinite ways It giveth & it taketh away Yet somehow we are still left with it Or in it , I should say For who are we without it? It sanctions the question Sponsors the answers It seems to enjoy speculation It doesn’t stop Yet it never starts It is the original contradiction Which bears our calendars Winds out clocks Confounds us with death It is too big to be invisible And too small to be palpable And it holds whole worlds in between All sorts of worlds, all of them, Yet it is nothing more than nothing Turned inside out, An impostor, An enchanter desperate for subjects, A master of mirrors with light & shadow that seizes us in catoptric curls, An impostor wanted For questioning: We have scoured snowy horizons amid snow storms, Amid sand storm we have ploughed sandy horizons, We found footsteps in sand, Shadows on snow Which we failed to recognize as our own, We followed imprints left by windy stars We thought we were perennial nomads just like them, We called out behind closed eyes into glow-wormed horizons And with abdication, fear & envy we took the echoes for something else: An impostor Yet between the calls Within resonance There was silence Impossible silence Suspended silence Differentiating silence Connecting silence Silence that does not change yet accommodates out whims Silence that cannot be spoken yet remains a word Silence that promotes the hunger of hope, That drives anticipation, Silence that is so vast it is impersonal Yet so finely tuned it apprehends the one Silence that is something more than everything turned inside out: A nothing that confound A grounding nothing An unnerving nothing A nothing that is vital, And the more we hear this nothing the less nothing we hear: - Patterns of eternity - Internal symbolism - Longing Yet if we were to linger forever How things would lose their power to move us.
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Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 4:54 PM UTC
A Symbol
There is infinity in our words In our minds And in our numbers There is infinity in this sentence In more ways than one How do I know? I know because I know that you know that I know that you know that I know that you know that I know etc There’s comparatively little paper & ink So I’ll keep this short: It creates the problems that it solves, in infinite ways It giveth & it taketh away Yet somehow we are still left with it Or in it , I should say For who are we without it? It sanctions the question Sponsors the answers It seems to enjoy speculation It doesn’t stop Yet it never starts It is the original contradiction Which bears our calendars Winds out clocks Confounds us with death It is too big to be invisible And too small to be palpable And it holds whole worlds in between All sorts of worlds, all of them, Yet it is nothing more than nothing Turned inside out, An impostor, An enchanter desperate for subjects, A master of mirrors with light & shadow that seizes us in catoptric curls, An impostor wanted For questioning: We have scoured snowy horizons amid snow storms, Amid sand storm we have ploughed sandy horizons, We found footsteps in sand, Shadows on snow Which we failed to recognize as our own, We followed imprints left by windy stars We thought we were perennial nomads just like them, We called out behind closed eyes into glow-wormed horizons And with abdication, fear & envy we took the echoes for something else: An impostor Yet between the calls Within resonance There was silence Impossible silence Suspended silence Differentiating silence Connecting silence Silence that does not change yet accommodates out whims Silence that cannot be spoken yet remains a word Silence that promotes the hunger of hope, That drives anticipation, Silence that is so vast it is impersonal Yet so finely tuned it apprehends the one Silence that is something more than everything turned inside out: A nothing that confound A grounding nothing An unnerving nothing A nothing that is vital, And the more we hear this nothing the less nothing we hear: - Patterns of eternity - Internal symbolism - Longing Yet if we were to linger forever How things would lose their power to move us.
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68
Vice may temporarily prosper, virtue dominates Love is to conquer world hatred but has to leave Beauty is good in life which comes ,accommodates You are a part of heart we are bound to believe What I pay and what I get that is but my sacrifice Humans are strange commodity change but faces Devilish or angelic, we just have to pay the price But remains virtually are nothing but all the traces My beloved let me take you on a strange oasis Where we can have survival on different stature Where we can deal with each other with justice I want to taste your taste and flavor of flavor Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
Flavor of Flavor
Why are people so resistant to just being people with/to/around other people?! People act like you have to be in a relationship to have any kind of relationship and I'm ******* sick of it. Does anyone else see how this is absurd? Does anyone see what the **** we're doing? Would we even ******* care if we did? Likely not: we're just a bunch of ******* doppelgangers: complacent, Orwellian, pharmacological guinea pigs with a fear of change and betrayal so deep that we do nothing but betray and change so rapidly that we can't even be sure of which alliances are genuine and which are malign. Why can't people just ******* be people? Why do we feel so compelled to be alien? Why do we prove them right? Why can't we just BE?! I'll tell you ******* why: it accommodates some people's POWER and I'll say it again POWER here, once more TO GET IT IN THROUGH OUR THICK-ASS, NUMB, AND EMPTY SKULLS: POWER
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
"Empassioned"
For me, you and I Are perfectly Fit for this time But the fear accommodates In my mind. . What will it turn out to be with time? A question which haunts me often, tormenting mostly at night. You might say not to think so much, but I wish you could understand You are not a mere person to hangout with. You are more than that! A friend, a companion with whom I fell in love. An asset for me which remains undefined! Love you to the core.
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Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 4:25 AM UTC
You & I
I woke up late to catch the frightening bus; Who accommodates billions of passenger just to get to their destination; This happens inside the loop of time, The sound of the underpass felt like I was inside the cathedral; Seeing straight faces with no reaction at all; I asked myself if these are the same people I saw yesterday; The echoing sound of their footsteps lead me to consciousness; Asking myself, do I really belong here? Do I really need to do this? The echoes from the cathedral made me feel bad about myself; And cut off my confidence once again; I realized that everyone works hard just to get to the top; And here I am feeling so worthless; A failure to my parents; And I just wanted to end my life; Because I always compare myself to others; Searching what lacks in me; So I started walking like what other people do; Mimicking their movements like a professional; Standing straight, chin up; Breathing the same air and feels empty inside; Am I really happy with the setting of the story? I felt nauseous, I thought I was gonna throw up; The welcoming step of the entrance cut the trance that I was in; The greetings of the unfamiliar faces; Dazed me into a robot of fear; They once obliged me to be like this and not to be like that; Weekdays I get to be the one wearing the fancy clothe; They say you’ll look more professional and everyone will respect you; Information that frustrates me; I wanted to become myself again; Freedom was lost because of me; My fear, my lack of confidence to present the one who hides; Who hides inside this charade; This charade that gave every yonder stars the regret; We’ve wasted our life doing things we don’t like.
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Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
“Morning Sickness”
I woke up late to catch the frightening bus; Who accommodates billions of passenger just to get to their destination; This happens inside the loop of time, The sound of the underpass felt like I was inside the cathedral; Seeing straight faces with no reaction at all; I asked myself if these are the same people I saw yesterday; The echoing sound of their footsteps lead me to consciousness; Asking myself, do I really belong here? Do I really need to do this? The echoes from the cathedral made me feel bad about myself; And cut off my confidence once again; I realized that everyone works hard just to get to the top; And here I am feeling so worthless; A failure to my parents; And I just wanted to end my life; Because I always compare myself to others; Searching what lacks in me; So I started walking like what other people do; Mimicking their movements like a professional; Standing straight, chin up; Breathing the same air and feels empty inside; Am I really happy with the setting of the story? I felt nauseous, I thought I was gonna throw up; The welcoming step of the entrance cut the trance that I was in; The greetings of the unfamiliar faces; Dazed me into a robot of fear; They once obliged me to be like this and not to be like that; Weekdays I get to be the one wearing the fancy clothe; They say you’ll look more professional and everyone will respect you; Information that frustrates me; I wanted to become myself again; Freedom was lost because of me; My fear, my lack of confidence to present the one who hides; Who hides inside this charade; This charade that gave every yonder stars the regret; We’ve wasted our life doing things we don’t like.
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36
I'm fine on my own, I was fine on my own, Won't stop doing so either way, I'm halfway done almost a masterpiece, Only if I give it my full attention to heal. The breaking part is getting old, I hate guessing, and been Enlightened that con**-men give, By earning trust, time and chance But am on a timeline Where it's better for nothing to be happening, Than a download pending update My patience I ran out The day I realized I give More than they deserve, It's not why give that's eating me up, But why consistently give when it's not something That graces my lips to curve upwards as it crosses my mind. If all you asking is for me to give, Then I'll give you my regards Sending you off to the next Patient who has enough patience To give you the chance to Pull yourself together, Time to prove your worth, And enough time to earn each other's trust. Am an ocean, I give beauty And breath taking sceneries, Smile to the sun whenever it Smothers me with it's warmth, Gracing me with it's glee Brightening my core with its shine. I give myself by embracing My shores to it's least, Closing-in to it's depth and surfacing my weak emotions with no weight. That's how am built As far as I have water and the void to fill, Flowing will be me in waves Through tides and against rocks. I As the ocean accommodates the dead too And live with it until someone Picks out the rote in me. As long as I have an inlet and an outlet Expect me to give fresh water. Remember a pin dropped in an ocean doesn't move waves.
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May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 5:58 PM UTC
Give @niamornimo
I'm fine on my own, I was fine on my own, Won't stop doing so either way, I'm halfway done almost a masterpiece, Only if I give it my full attention to heal. The breaking part is getting old, I hate guessing, and been Enlightened that con**-men give, By earning trust, time and chance But am on a timeline Where it's better for nothing to be happening, Than a download pending update My patience I ran out The day I realized I give More than they deserve, It's not why give that's eating me up, But why consistently give when it's not something That graces my lips to curve upwards as it crosses my mind. If all you asking is for me to give, Then I'll give you my regards Sending you off to the next Patient who has enough patience To give you the chance to Pull yourself together, Time to prove your worth, And enough time to earn each other's trust. Am an ocean, I give beauty And breath taking sceneries, Smile to the sun whenever it Smothers me with it's warmth, Gracing me with it's glee Brightening my core with its shine. I give myself by embracing My shores to it's least, Closing-in to it's depth and surfacing my weak emotions with no weight. That's how am built As far as I have water and the void to fill, Flowing will be me in waves Through tides and against rocks. I As the ocean accommodates the dead too And live with it until someone Picks out the rote in me. As long as I have an inlet and an outlet Expect me to give fresh water. Remember a pin dropped in an ocean doesn't move waves.
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