"accrued" poems
Broke
Unable to finalize any purchase
Checking
For change in the last places that one searches
Insufficient
To the point I'm unable to ward off the throes of destitution
Bankrupted
By devaluing those who have not made restitution
Insolvent
To the point of having to fight off the urge to curse
Disallowed by the prose that places value and give credit....to verse
Denied
Any credit accrued....maybe even unearned
Reevaluation
With no accounting for the time you
SPENT
Learning what you have learned
Depreciation or Appreciation
Cannot be quantified by the lack of someone.saying thanks
Interest will eventually be of value
Once accrued... but for now I must accept
That I'm simply overdrawn at my memory banks
Investment in my own value
Will allow me growth
In my own ...
......personal
Checking account
Helping me in balancing the books
Keeping me payed up and happy
BY
Always giving others their true valuation
So that ego doesnt become a currency
That is subject to... such a devastating inflation
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
I gaze into my crystal ball, discern amidst the haze
A world so far removed from that of now, it would amaze,
Where catapulting incidents collide like billiard *****
And sense defies belief as renaissance makes the calls.
Blueprints fresh from Internet supply the suitcase blast
Where the terrorist’s, simultaneously, ignite in cities cast
From Moscow to New York, Beijing to Berlin
Gay Paree to London town then way out east again,
Budapest, Jerusalem Calcutta burning all
And Tokyo is levelled in a ghastly nuclear pall.
Kneejerk reaction triggers contrails in the blue
Crisscrossing all the continents obliterating through
An overkill so vicious that in seconds it is past
And the living cling in horror, bearing witness… aghast.
Restraints are erased as the opportunists dash
Flotillas from the Spratleys sprint to occupy and cash
In on the minerals, oil and potential food supplies
Of uncontaminated nations found beneath Pacific skies.
Hindi, Jew and Muslim settle scores bereft with years
Of resentment accrued in a flood of blood and tears.
A sudden realisation of immensity of loss
Curtails the destruction in retrenchment across
The habitable outposts, the dearth of supply
And the daunting prospects of a nuclear winter sky.
Global collapse of all electronic gear
No power, no phones, and no cars now…for years.
Electromagnetic impulse put paid to all that
And the day is as dark as the cold night is black.
And here all we sit, in the here and the now
On the verge of catastrophes’ teetering tower,
With a fools pudgy finger just inches above
The nuclear button…and all that we love.
……You fear the insanity, sense the insane
Knowing that people like this are holding the reign?
Knowing that volatility strikes
Like the shot of a gun and the ****** of a knife.
I don’t have the answers to hand
But someone out there, knows how…and can.
The sands of time are running thin
URGENTLY needed a LEADER...to WIN!
M.
Planet Earth
6 March 2019
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 12:46 AM UTC
Today's a new.
Took a breath, stepped outside and Ponder upon Paradise Avenue.
Most haven’t a clue.
Stuck between a hard place and a rock bonded by that encrypted glue.
So don’t be rude.
Look the other way While I pursue.
Get in the way and even you’ll be tighten, fastened and ******* Intrigue or intrude?
Acting with passion taking my life wealth of metaphorical food.
I'm not in the mood.
I came to conclude.
The knowledge hidden will soon be removed.
Over the covenant stove.
Hypnotize lives will be brewed.
Ether produced broth of truth I accrued.
So in this life of Manipulating strife.
Conflict of fundamental issues got me on strike.
Take a hike, better yet ride a bike.
My mind has been overlapping Triple stacking in the apparent. Trying to come up with my own Patton of satin.
I will Manifest anything that’s internally speaking in a Ridicule fashion.
I'm rapidly expanding and the abundance is over flowing.
Is it me, is it you, is it us, was it he who walked above the sea?
Yes best believe.
Antiquity relics through Allegory marriage.
Helps to see Beyond and above the perished.
Come to believe and you will achieve.
That’s the hidden recipe.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
We all want to be liked
To have people see
The version of ourselves
We choose to be
And say, yeah
That's someone I admire
I aspire to be like
We all want someone
To look back on
The snapshots we've accrued
Over years of holidays,
***** nights,
And picture perfect food
And say, look
Here's someone who's got things sussed
We all want someone
To validate our lives
To comment that we're doing just fine
You're great
You're pretty
Your smart
Well, I guess that's a good start
We all want someone
To click that **** thumb
And validate the effort
Of keeping the mask on
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 3:07 AM UTC
Headless chickens running aimless toward the almighty dollar
Blindly staring at the knife"s stainless steel amidst all the squaller
My thirsty soul argues against my numb skull to hold a thorough audition
They lewdly feud about potential candidates accrued to search for recognition
They conclude on a suspicion they mutually feared as a result of blind ambition
Search preludes the admission, that I found my dream car with no keys for ignition
Don"t question authority especially when it's the majority
Everyone knows the world is flat and let's just leave it at that
I bought water from you now I have ice to sell
I have a great story but no one worthy to tell
Hindsight should really be at least twenty fifteen
Because to admit we just don"t know is too obscene?
Blissful ignorance"s repugnant scent wafting through the cave
Mindless sheople"s chainlinked brains all dancing at the rave
Fire flickering Shadow puppets tastefully riding the next wave
Puppeteer wizard behind the curtain telling them how to behave
Misaligned redcoated frontline soldiers falsely labeled as brave
Life"s ironic conundrum puzzle, choosing which children to save
Diseased cement steadily drying in a world ever ready to pave
Hungrier than I"ve ever been, yet sickly devoid of things to crave
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 5:06 AM UTC
---
what is it makes a person
great in this sad world?
where there's such mediocrety
it is a precious pearl
is it that they have money?
that they have accrued
a trillion dollar bank account?
does this make a person good?
perhaps they have a famous face
or well regarded name
maybe they play basketball
and have a winning team
is it artistic talent?
was Vincent van Gogh lauded?
in his painful lifetime
was this man applauded?
perhaps they are as Edison
and have a brilliant mind
but Edison used Tessla
to him he was unkind
this is what I think
makes a man or woman great
that they give life their ALL
that they do not faint
if you sweep the street
and make it clean and bright
If you are an educator
and bring poor children light
if you are a poet
on a humble poetry site
it is forgiving others
not having to be right!
if you are a boxer
and don't give up the fight
this is what is greatness
it's not playing a part
it is *truly living
with your entire HEART.*
soulsurvivor
(C) 8/31/2015
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Gold shed upon suckling gold,
The time of the bole blackens,
Of the dark mounted through dapple,
While in the sealed apple
The seed cradled toward cold.
A gold on gold spent,
Put by from an elm in its years
Now its gilded of days,
Over turf’s dishevelment;
Where all which is green sickens,
All the fresh shall be sere.
All which is green sickens,
And it is but for a time
Those embered veinings blaze
A year’s delirium;
Or neared of other space,
Unportioned azure shall close
One of more, and which is,
One which goes.
Let the little pupils that will,
Of vision, gaze for salt
To whet their gazing, wit
In one weather is high
From burrow and lair, by
Nether providences’ default
An all’s accrued.
And apposite, beyond
Such primer beholdings, has
Its long accounting known
The beetle’s morsel thus
Was rich, and the slug’s bed on
The oak’s generations, deep
Over the lark’s bones.
In slough of Edens fast
Wit in one weather shall stand,
While millennia nibble at
The sensual apple
Toppled it net,
Plenty in the palm of the hand,
And the fallen not fallen, not lost
From out its certitude—
For our unbeggaring
Has been gross. Few and late
To cherish an immoderate
Wish, hope’s calculus,
Love’s hope; few to miss,
From natural tally ******
In the lime-girdled space
Of choice, where alone
Man can abandon what
Is only his own;
And in cold and tarrying
Their rearisers sleep:
While to the granite cheek
Light’s purples bring
Infinite their ministering,
And past our finial
And ragged crests, to keep
Time’s ambient stood,
Propose horizons from
Their shadowy quarries; while,
In an unwandered wood,
Or under the indifferent foot,
Is let fall, let fall a fruit,
Through eternal leisures down,
For but time’s unravelling.
2.9k
Lady of dance so eloquent, Flamenco born from her wombs' true intent,
Castanets clatter, as tambourine rattles,
with excitement, accrued within whirls,
she prances and dances within circles, all flashing,
to reach her prince charming, was truly so dashing, her hair rolled up in a tight fitting bun,
As she swirled up to reach her finale, twas said,
she was here no longer, she was truly dead,
she deceased many years, hence past,
For every so often her vengeance she cast,
Prince so vain, found another sweet lover,
left her alone with her pain,
left her mark on the spot,
where her true love stopped,
Gave her no attention,
well too little to mention,
took her life with such a harsh knot,
when the moon is bright, on one sorrowful night,
She'd appear to dance for the crowds,
The watchers looked on, not terrified, by the sight of the tragic flamenco bride!
Copywrite, Olivia Kent 24/03/2013.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
Fountain of youth runs in his veins,
The man who lives in Sycamore Keep.
His circadian clock had come to a halt,
Rather than rejoice, he sullenly weeps.
You would think that immortality is
The pinnacle of human existence,
All the time in the world and not a
Single malady to be of any resistance.
Yet there he sulks, the ageless man,
Cauterized by the turn of each century,
As loved ones breathe their last and
Become a parcel of his fractured memory.
But that is just the shell of his woes,
For even with all knowledge amassed,
He’s utterly aghast with the state of the
World unwilling to learn from the past.
Every crook and cranny explored,
Every experience well savored,
Now monotony for millennia to come,
His longing to live has ebbed and wavered.
I was told by the man of Sycamore Keep
That immortality is a curse so alluring.
Indeed, a hundred cultivated years is
Much better than hollow eons securing.
But sir, think of all the riches you’ve accrued
And mastery of all science and philosophies.
Who wouldn’t want to have the time to mark
The world and purge it from all its atrocities.
Say no more, interrupted the ageless man,
I applaud your idealism and optimistic delusion,
But you’re missing one essential element --
Even as immortals, we’d still be only human.
And to be human, is to be fallible. Let’s just say
That immortal fallibility will engender no good.
It'd be best to truncate our lifespan for the
Sake of our survival, yes truncate we should.
And that’s all I heard from the man of Sycamore Keep,
Who went on his way to his millennial weep.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
*Upon entrance into the realm of reality
My first image basks in the bliss of your smile
You knew that bearing two offspring was sheer destiny
All the love that you bestowed was definitely worthwhile
When I’m in pain, depression, or sorrow
You welcome me in a warmhearted embrace
Such care heals my soul for a better tomorrow
Your unrelenting support propels me in the life race
Your grace branches to lands beyond reckoning
Your unique ability to serve others is a true virtue
Your duties are far from easygoing
You deserve much more than the credit accrued
You fought valiantly when things turned gray
You should have a nice rest on this Mother’s day*
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
Wondering while we walk
Trembling trying to talk
Mankind mostly marred momentum
Humanity how humiliating, hiding
Forefathers frowning, from our fabricated forget
Refusing redemption, requiring rancor and retribution
Always armed, allured, awaiting angry accusations
Derailed doves, these daggers drag down
Losing level landings, lacerating learning's lifting
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
I implore indignation, it's incarceration of our intrinsic immensity
At the core of our conception, captivating creation captured
Anyone, everyone, afraid of the amazement accrued under our armor
Profoundness, endless as the universe, favoring our existence
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
1
A great year and place;
A harsh, discordant, natal scream out-sounding, to touch the mother’s heart
closer than any yet.
I walk’d the shores of my Eastern Sea,
Heard over the waves the little voice,
Saw the divine infant, where she woke, mournfully wailing, amid the roar
of cannon, curses, shouts, crash of falling buildings;
Was not so sick from the blood in the gutters running—nor from
the single corpses, nor those in heaps, nor those borne away in the
tumbrils;
Was not so desperate at the battues of death—was not so shock’d
at the repeated fusillades of the guns.
2
Pale, silent, stern, what could I say to that long-accrued retribution?
Could I wish humanity different?
Could I wish the people made of wood and stone?
Or that there be no justice in destiny or time?
3
O Liberty! O mate for me!
Here too the blaze, the grape-shot and the axe, in reserve, to fetch them out
in case of need;
Here too, though long represt, can never be destroy’d;
Here too could rise at last, murdering and extatic;
Here too demanding full arrears of vengeance.
4
Hence I sign this salute over the sea,
And I do not deny that terrible red birth and baptism,
But remember the little voice that I heard wailing—and wait with perfect trust,
no matter how long;
And from to-day, sad and cogent, I maintain the bequeath’d cause, as for all lands,
And I send these words to Paris with my love,
And I guess some chansonniers there will understand them,
For I guess there is latent music yet in France—floods of it;
O I hear already the bustle of instruments—they will soon be drowning
all that would interrupt them;
O I think the east wind brings a triumphal and free march,
It reaches hither—it swells me to joyful madness,
I will run transpose it in words, to justify it,
I will yet sing a song for you, MA FEMME.
2.2k
As potential grew, a desire to write, disclosed to few
Imagination immerse, but yet to thirst for knowledge, accrued ambition address
All aboard the express, thoughts of Harry, a plot to marry
From fanciful flights to greater heights
Capturing such visualisation, twas the formation
Characterisation, of wings to soar, with metaphor
From Dumbledore, yet taking shape
Professor Snape, assume the plot, lest thoughts forgot
A forest to roam, a philosophical stone
Such creative flair of which to share
Joining of the dotted line, artistic mind
Transporting train, journeyed acclaim
Of whom to impede, the will to succeed
The ability to write, the capacity to teach, the desire to reach
An impetus for change, a literary role, a priority
Of which to seek with tenacity
Beyond horizons, beyond confines, stand undefined
Awe-inspire, great readership, a due reply
To simplify, a noble shift, outstanding writer in the midst
Dynamic plot from pen to page, persistence through to published stage
A realised dream, challenge overcome
A victory won definably, stocked supplies to library
Broomstick flight phenomenon, a mystical tale was to become
Would generate, the bus of Knight, to render right
A rebuilt life, a legacy made
From chosen craft to final draft, a world of creativity
The right to type, to innovate, an intriguing wait
A shining star that would liberate
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
I Make Art,
and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,
I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,
sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,
who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,
forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,
true true,
and who’s the Crew dude?
It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,
we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,
shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,
an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,
top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?
See,
I Make Art,
and if you’re an artist too,
and you know the commitment to the Freedom,
that you give must be true,
see in order to get paid dues you must first pay dues,
I’m sorry,
I’m not sorry,
I’m rhyming again ‘cause I don’t know what else to do,
sounding cliche as fck,
I’m cliche as fck,
but it’s the best kind of cliche,
être bon mi amore let’s sail away,
who cares if the skies are grey,
who cares if the skies are blue,
not you we are a rainbow,
but a rainbow with more than 50 shades,
forget the reference,
or reference the reference,
I prefer to refer the next move to you,
pardon the indifference,
I’m numb from this business,
to the point where the only 1’s I trust are the Crew,
true true,
and who’s the Crew dude?
It’s an eclectic collection of artist,
who’s credit is way over due,
we paid dues and pay dues,
now their new News is our old News,
turning grey skies to blue through the emotions we do,
we’re hippy chic celebrities like that guy from The Trews,
shout out to Katy because I forgot her ex’s name,
respect to Katy for mastering the game,
an artist that worked to the pinnacle,
to trade Time & Money for Fortune and Fame,
and everything currently material is attained,
from currency accrued by acting atop the the Art Game,
top of the A,
the pinnacle the peak,
get it the top of the “A”,
now do you see?
See,
I Make Art.
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 3:17 AM UTC
Once made, there is
one more Immortal
walking and stalking
the living and dying
Stars and moon their heavenly light
darkness home eternal flight
Never may they greet the Sun
t'would burn them til they are undone
But how to staunch this fascination
I'm drawn into their alienation
Wantonly they make their rules
and see mere humans as the fools
They witness cycling of the eras
perspective lasting ages
With wisdom that is thus accrued
they are akin to sages
Yet we have what they need to thrive
the blood that keeps us all alive
Though weak and vulnerable we are whole
Immortals sadly lack a soul
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 12:12 AM UTC
Just one more poem.
Just one more rhyme...
come on brain!
Have you lost your mind?
Just one more limerick.
Just one more haiku...
it's always so easy!
What's wrong with you?
Just one more story.
Just one more tune...
write of winter!
Describe hot June?
Just one more lesson.
Just one more advice...
say it with jewelry!
Teach of vice?
Just one more declaration.
Just one more truth-spree...
do it on paper!
Set yourself free?
Just one more blood-let.
Just one more piece of you...
there's something to say!
What have you accrued?
"Just one more bad day.
Just one more true beauty...
to write it all down!
Isn't it a poet's duty?
Just one more Maui sunset.
Just one more lost friend...
Oh, don't worry!
'One mores 'never end..."
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
The air has begun to adopt that
damp and coppery hint of decay,
every breath a syrupy drop of autumn.
Each morning
the chorus of birds that greet the rising sun thins,
its members gradually cashing in on their accrued vacation time
and jetting off to winter homes in Florida.
Tourists.
All birds are tourists.
They won't be here to see the snow
turn to viscera under the tread of our lesser travels.
No,
they'll be tanning by gated watering holes,
discussing the downward trend in early worm returns.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 9:52 AM UTC
when my drugs begin to fail
and self-inflicted thoughts prevail
I run to the shower
where in peace I can cower
turn on the water, scalding hot
focus on pain instead of thought
I used to burn myself, but I became more shrewd
water doesn't make a mark, no scars accrued
until I can breathe I will run the water
turning it up hotter and hotter
I emerge as if I am anew
and not a soul has a clue
because you cant see tears when they fall in the shower
and at least I managed to live for another hour
Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 3:22 AM UTC
I do not love you,
Like the way I did before.
Things have changed a lot,
as it opened passages and doors.
As I struggle to fix things,
please conform, please understand.
That Pressure's never a friend,
not a good mixture nor a blend
With time, oh so precious,
can we give it a ride?
as If it's a wave,
that we can smoothly slide,
as if we can just abide,
like a mind that's open wide,
do you still want to sip,
into a drink that's half-flipped.
and hanging is a fact,
that I am constantly changing,
I am not the same man,
do you find it discouraging?
I do not love you like before,
Certainly I am true.
Not like yesterday,
routine's not accrued.
*For I love you more,
as each day pass,
thank you for showing me,
that you're a class
Holding a lot of functions,
truthful and postive,
I felt the urge
I felt the caring
I see the truth in you,
as I let loose on my holdings.
you've believed in me,
when no one's doing,
You've given way all,
for free and with atttitude,
Now I am blissed,
Now I am loosed,
Like a new born baby,
you've made me fresh and celebrated,
I saw the effort,
A love to be celebrated.
I love you girl,
Sorry if I just started fully,
Now I'm looking long term,
to get with you happily.
I don't love you
Like the way I did before,
because my feelings have grown,
I'll love you, deep down the core.*
Apr 4, 2011
Apr 4, 2011 at 5:05 AM UTC
One Day At A Time
I’m still alive
Though not intact
I strive and strive
To stay on track
I try, I fail
I try again
I need to heal
It never ends
The coarse was set
With little wind
My sail’s a net
It’s hard to win
LIke a tattoo
One stain at a time
What I’ve accrued
Is pain in my prime
I work what I got
With smiles and grins
I want to give up
But fight giving in
So I’ll go on
One day at a time
Till I am upon
Life’s finish line
Written By: Bill MacEachern
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 6:38 AM UTC
From the person of low life
To the person with class high
I am the standard one between
With lots of feelings and deeds
From the picture from others mind
Its what i think i must abide
But i become the soulful creature
Where my soul should have not accrued even
My business should be the honesty in me
Not the people disgusting me
I hope to find the real people
Before i ruin the reality in me..
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 1:29 PM UTC
Beauty resides in the sun's setting
It's a contract promising to bear life:
A brand new day shall be created, letting
We ravens drift on rays, devoid o' strife.
The price: darkness; interest: accrued starshine---
Always succumbing to sun without signs.
Did Eve know of the deal? Was she lost?
As sun set, did she fear the awful night?
Perhaps she ate the fruit this way, the cost
of our race established for lack of light?
Dusk and autumn beauteous are, recall
this ever, e'en as you begin to fall.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC
Jamie keeps a middle aged white man imprisoned below his house as an involuntary *** slave.
Jamie also donates a few hundred dollars each month to human rights organisations around the world.
Sam spends a few hours most weeks attempting to draw people’s
attention to both local, and international slavery.
Sam neither donates money to human rights organisations, nor keeps slaves himself.
Whilst most people who are concerned about human rights issues have a problem with slavery, there is some disagreement as to the most effective way to address it.
Some are of the view that Jamie, despite his direct participation in slavery, is doing more for human rights than is Sam. The theory is that by donating money to human rights organisations, one can offset the harm associated with keeping a slave, and in Jamie’s case, since the donations are significant, Jamie has accrued a human rights violation credit.
-Frightening thinking
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
Homeless in paradise, it's never that clean
Home free, since I was a middle-aged teen
Purple haze trees, as my life's infrastructure
Smelling the scent, of my bohemian subculture
Playing along the boardwalks of Venice Beach
Passersby, all the time just begging to screech
Their rude undertones, as they sip on their latte
Surely, I was a given, for a dope smokin' runaway
I must admit, I am a drunk
I will admit, I did love punk
I won't admit, I'm not a hot *****
Have to admit, at skool I did flunk
I'll **** it up, to make a quick buck
But, will you admit, you're a flaming schmuck?
Living in paradise, was forever my scene
Hassle-free start to my touring routine
Purple haze shades, my life now has structure
You see the success, of my worldwide pop culture
Gracing stages of past fame, always to a beat
Fanatical fans always be wanting to meet
Sifting my bin, for stuff I've worn, this be stalking
I'm the greatest musical queen, I've heard them talking
I must admit, I am a drunk
I will admit, I did love punk
I won't admit, I'm not a hot *****
Have to admit, at skool I did flunk
I'll **** it up, to make a quick buck
But, will you admit, you're a flaming schmuck?
Hurting in paradise, for wherever I'm seen
Hitting trees, I ditched my last limousine
Injecting purple haze into my veins, now I’ve suffered
On Youtube, my once famous sculpture is buffered
Fooling around, the ***** strips, never that discreet
With my purple haze shades, I was fast on my feet
Families, not mourning, nor crying, putting me 6 feet under
Atlantic contracts, royalties accrued, now easy to plunder
In departing my last scene, I'd become fatally unstuck
Because of how I'd been living, as a dim-witted, schmuck.
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
If I go to a party, and see at least one girls *** that day will be my best day of that season.
I’d drink myself to the point where the toilet could be advertised as a painkiller. But **** standing up, It’s not that I don’t trust my aim, I just like to keep things as clean as possible.
I often find myself apologizing for actions the morning after inebriation. It’s weird. I’ve grown old enough for understand consequences but not enough to try and and avoid them.
Old enough to regret the relationships I’ve destroyed then still find time, to break down a few more.
I’m still scared of commitment. I’ll spend 2 years learning to love all of your facets and flaws, but spend so much more of that time looking for a cause.
Exploring why I bother to love anyone when I feel so insecure. You’re affection may grow but I’ll never feel sure. It all becomes a chore. Asking you to outline whatever good in me you thought you saw. But sometime or later I’ll be asking for a redraw.
It’s a funny word ‘insecure’. It’s funny that even with all the nightmares we’ve been through. The experiences we’ve accrued. The places we’ve had to get to, Your deepest fears will always be about you.
You and your expectations you feel you must attain.
You and your image you present to those who judge.
You and your aptitude for keeping those you love happy.
Even now. I’m only saying this because I’m scared I’m far too immature for life I lead,
and I know anyone else in my position would want to hear these words.
Mistakes are as natural as breathing.
With both it is imperative that at some point you must let go. You must exhale and exorcize what is unnecessary from your body. You must learn to forgive yourself.
2. Unsurity is the siamese twin of certainty.
Before you come to a decision you must be comfortable in the knowledge you will never know what the future holds but if you ever want to move forward, it requires that all important first step... so put your best foot forward.
and 3. Bolster yourself. Be proud in the understanding that your 2 feet hold a place in this world that no else can fill. That everyday you live is your opportunity to bend the universes will. That live may not be a continuous thrill but boy is it scary!
You have a lifetime of wishes to fulfill.
So settle down. Life is a series of small discoveries. No one expects you to find everything.
All we ask is that you don’t ever stop looking.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC