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This be the Final Day I shake your Hand
Then meet the Calmer Diplomat you brought
To just Reach Out; And try to Understand
How my Skills for Finer Efforts have wrought
Though, as Proofed, are Numbers you would Believe
So ask my Higher Boss which Plan I'll take
Will constrict my Leisures; As many percieve
The Bull-Horned Adviser my Peers forsake
So that if my Laboured Spirits be Tamed
And share to your Better Business allot
Will sharpen my Picture; Then Talents famed
Behind the Blue Eagle's Black Eggs forgot.
That Excelled you are, as Cell's Values come
Would make my Mark; As the Best Agent done.
Kaley Dec 2016
Listen..
You cant believe every thing you see..trust in every source your given... there fore you cant believe every thing your told..
Your not worthless.. or trash..
Or just existing for no reason..

You got to Believe in something..
Trust in something..
That your not as bad as you think you are..

Often people See the flaws more in themselfs then others..

You have to follow your Heart..
Find an Trust in your Heart
But think alittle also..

You cant live your life based on how others want you too..
You cant please everyone..
You'll fail if you try.

You have to do what you believe is right, even when most of the world tells you its wrong..

Have you ever been told
You cant make it,
Your a failure,
Your not good enough..

Well they're wrong..
You have to follow your courage,
Your heart, your believes,
Have the intuition an audacity to over come your fears, your bad thoughts, others negitive oppinions.

Also..
your gonna have
some ups an downs..
its like a roller coaster,
You have to have downs
to have ups in life..
An ups to have downs..

Its what you do
when you get
knocked down,
trampled apon,
An fall flat on your face that counts..
Its how you act,
how you handel the situation..

Like have you been talked about either behind your back..
Or even right infront of you..
Well I curtaintly have..

But guess what..
Thats not stopping me from living my life.. you cant let others oppinions or lies or words get you down..

You know what you are?..
You are outstanding..
You are amazing,
You outshine most people
An they cant handel it..

Sometimes when life gets hard..
You know your doing something right.. an they want to see you fail.. dont give them the time of day.. the satisfaction.. dont even listen to them.. they dont even know you..
You know better then anyone else who you are..

When you've been defeated..
It takes courage to start over again..

You are more then capable..
You can make a change..

Behind every principal is a promise..

Hear me out!..

Dont wear your feelings on your sleve.. base things on your feelings.. (at least not everyrhing)..

Procrastination.. Man do humans know allot about this word...

Okay, so here it is..
If you dont do something..
If you say.. I dont want to go to school or work today..
Because "I dont feel like it"
Especially  consistently,
You might of just pushed back your future.. you dont even know for how long.. maybe a whole year..
A month maybe...

Emotions -
Disipline an control them
Or they will use you..

You got to change..

No one said life would be easy..
Or even changing.. but
If thats the case everyone would do it..
It takes work an effort..
But in the long run it will be worth it

Ask yourself
"How much do you want this"
An go all out on it..

Your in control..
Of you life
Your future
You emotions
Your body
Your self
Your thoughts
Your decisions..

Get a grip..
Your coming back
You'll be twice as much stronger
An better because of it..
Stand up for yourself..
Stand up for your Dreams
Stand up for our piece of mind..

Stand up for your country
For your name, for your life,
Stand up for your freedom..
For who you are!!!!

You are not Destroyed!!
You are not Damaged!!

Take full responsibility for your life

Accept where you are an move forward with where you want to go

You decide..

You know most people.don't take the time to enjoy life..
They get old an say I wish I did that or I wish I did this..

Dont be serious all the time..
Enjoy an be.yourself..

Live life as you were
to die tommorow..

Live your life with passion
With motivation with drive...

Decide that your going
to push yourself..

Be like a book..
Live life.. fill each chapter..
Make changes
Make turns..
Decide an think for yourself..
Whats wrong?.. whats right?..

An with every page turned..
Dont give up..
Thats how a storys made..
Keep going with it..
An you'll be remembered!

Just like it ends..
Dont end cause you gave up..
End it because you died trying..
You have to live to die..
But to die.. you have to live!!!

So what is your story?..
What are you gonna do?..
Who are you to be?..

Dont listen to the negitive things!!
Tell yourself.. You Can!!!
An you "Will"...

You want to know what
the impossible is?...

The impossible is something someone else
failed to get too..

But you CAN Achieve
The impossible if...
You Never Give Up!!!

Dont give up
Dont give in

"Theres always an answer..
To Everything"

You're not broken/ but Unbroken

2 corinthians..ect.

persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
So we don't look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.
Odi May 2014
I tell him about the 90 year old that made a home in my body.
Say "I feel more than the nineteen years, I feel more than your nineteen years."
He takes it as evidence towards what he calls my "superiority complex"
makes a joke about thinking I'm so much wiser than everybody else as I stammer with arms crossed trying to find the words my nineteen year old vocabulary does not know.

This has nothing to do with being wise you sonofabitch, its about an exhaustion that paints the dark color around my eyes and the sigh that lives in my belly you ******.

He interrupts, laughing "What do you mean? Your bones ache or something? haha hahaha." Loud, obnoxious, not the first time,
not the last. I want to say yes

yes
yes they ache ad they creak
and they burn and so do my eyes and so do my insides and so do the words I say and the way I say them and the way it scares others when I say some profound ****, I almost sound like Gandhi, like Bukowski, I just never learnt of a beautiful way to disguise my pain. Not enough so It could sell.


I was better off alone when the ice made a security blanket around my heart-better off with no pain.
He shines a mirror on all my missing parts, calls me ****** up.
Stand next to me just to lean over in his height, superiority complex runs high among privileged nineteen year old straight males.

The ice thawed but he came with no gloves
I found the bruising less tolerable than the cold this time around
Less bearable than the lonely beat my heart learned to sing.
Its the same story he just repeats himself as another boy who says the wrong things and makes me feel
exhausted for every having opened up my icebox full of secrets.
Every conversation is an emptying out and not the cathartic kind.
The kind that leaves the ninety year old in me shaking with nothing left inside her but rotting gums and eyes that have seen too much ****. Nobody is supposed to make you this unhappy. This is not what I asked when I asked for you to make me feel something.
Every time I say your name Matthew, it almost comes out Nathan, in my head. Nathan with his accent, and the same humor, same jokes. Nathan the boy I emptied myself out to just so he could leave bruises on the uncovered parts. It was so easy to to leave somebody I never gave a **** about.

Matthew, I only say your name so often so I remember it, so I say it right, so I remind myself you are not the same person. Matthew sounds allot like Nathan when your drunk or sad which I am most of the time these days, you sound allot like him with your laugh, sound like your gonna leave bruises on all the parts I lift up to show you. I know this.

This is a fact. Like I know I wont ever cry for you until I'm all thawed out.
Matthew, for  your painstaking insensitivity, for your lack of understanding
Matthew for you not understanding all the creaking in my bones is just screaming

Save me
Fix me

Give me one reason why you're good for me because I cannot think of any and
*I so desperately want to
*** we started tags in hellopoetry too now? ffs
Matthew A Dumas Dec 2014
Maybe if I just stop trying
I'd finally do
All the things I've said I've done
All the promises I've made to you

Maybe if I just stop thinking
I will realize
Too Much thought lays waste to words
And true intention cauterize

Maybe if I just start beleiveing
In something less
I will find peace inside
And live without the stress

But what if I just stopped breathing?
Doesn't that sound great?
I couldn't even question why
There would be no debate
Jamie L Cantore Nov 2014
I am given to an unfamiliar direction,
disturbed into one in need, by confession,
of sympathetic sorrow, and her fond affection.


Yet I was left to fall to ruin in a mode, a condition
of the great and hapless misery of this wan dejection,
by the one whose sweet tenderness once was unquestioned.


Her lovingness by no thoughts is considered to be any more.
She became a shadowy wretch that was long ago and once before
a primary source to my poor crying heart's deep and ever endless store.


To my heart's succor she could not allot a smidgen more,
because I lost my way by way of a muse whose virtue was pure,
and I was lying within my secret hideaway far from me, far from her.
She and her refer to my ex .
Also, this was a longer poem, but it began to have an irregular meter,
So I will write a new poem with the left-overs.
I often find it puzzling when my 28-year-old sister displays her total lack of adult feeling. In her adult years she never has shown an ability to feel what my parents were feeling as they took care of her 100% financially.
    She was mentally ill from a very young age, a spectacle for the neighborhood kids to see as she took the smallest things to heart and didn't care much for friends to play with. Once old enough to have a job, she had no interest in having a job. And not in the usual immature teen kind of way, but a more deeply-rooted, adult fear of work and adult responsibility type of way.
    Now 28, still living at home and jobless she attends the local community college where she is afraid to check her grades because having no job or responsibilities does not allot her the ability to firmly grasp all A's. I was not always so highly critical of her. To the contrary, my whole family was made to think she was some mysterious *** of gold we all had to treat as if there was nothing peculiar and all her outlandish antics were okay.
   Indeed, I'd have no problem with her if she could only hold a ******* job, or do like I am and get on FAFSA and find a loving, kind-hearted man to support her while she goes to school. A man for whom she'll clean up after, do his ***** laundry and fulfill all domestic obligations in-part or entirely until she graduates an honors student and finds a career she can be proud of. But no, instead she found an abusive boyfriend who was himself mentally Ill, as arguably anyone would have to be to want to get with her, and after a fight she broke her cello and now my parents are paying for it. My dad, who has been for several years saving up for something nice for himself, who is now committed to paying for my wedding, who has been ignoring my emails inquiring about money to start buying little reception things, willingly or unwillingly. My mother, who barely makes anything as a public school teacher. Who both help support my uncle who is also living there now.
   *******, the hardship of my mental life has been to be angry at these people, the sweetest of the sweet for continually allowing her to suckle their metaphorical ***** for 10 years too long. The enabling has put me into a mental twist and I have become obsessed with it because I was down in it for so long. I guess all families have that one person, but few too my personal knowledge have one like this. Sometimes, I wish one of her suicide attempts had been successful, but then my parents would be enthralled in pain and anguish for something that may have been different, but probably never will. It is just like how it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. If she'd never been born, maybe they'd been happier. Or maybe she'd have been born a different person. But now they have her, and they can't go back.
   She'll probably wind up homeless once my parents are gone. We've both agreed we can't take her on...
   This all might make me seem like the bad guy, but you wouldn't know unless you spent a day in the life.
True story. My sister just turned 28, has no job, lives at home, doesn't drive and my father is now paying for the instrument she threw across the room, and neglecting to answer my emails asking for small installments of reception money so my Maid of Honor and I can start buying things... But, as I said, I can never be mad. How can one be mad at Mr. & Mrs. Mother Teresa for caring for a ****** they chose to have.  (I use the term ****** because she is, for all intensive purposes emotionally and socially *******)
Allyson Walsh Dec 2015
Lately, I have been postponing
Writing about the palms of your hands.

Procrastinating thoughts written down
Concerning the color of your eyes.

In fear of looking at you in a positive light
Once more.

You see, when I dedicate verses
To the specifics of your smile.

I tend to get caught up
In feelings of attachment.

And I live with the fear
That you will leave just as easily as you came.

I suppose I will let myself cling
To every lingering thought of you.

Allow myself to ponder the rasp of your voice
In the early hours of the morning.

Allot myself time to reminisce
On the tenderness of your touch.

Slowly, I am becoming more attached;
Sticking to you like sweet honey.

Your words are half of a chainlink fence;
And mine connect with yours exclusively.
For NM

Wrote this in about three minutes. I've been afraid to allow myself the pleasure. It came out all too easily.
Glades and Creeks.

One day in a journey far far away,  the forest was speaking to a lone wanderer.
"I am quite the clean forest, am I not?." The forest whispered soothingly.
"Mmhm." Spoke the wanderer, passive by such an interjection.
"Of course. Thousands of forests have wilted and died under the hand of man. I remain lush and brimming to the birch with life."
"Where is my way out of here?" The wanderer asked, becoming quite needy at the thought of having to spend the night in that dung-infested greenhouse.

The forests name was Evergreen. Allot of forests were named Evergreen. This forest had just been sold cheaply to a large logging firm who would come and tear the ugly trees down. The proprietors of that sale was a tribe of Indians. The specific agent who devised and contracted the sale was named Nahiko. An Indian tribesmen who, like his ancestors could speak to the forest.

Indians were what Europeans called people from India and natives of America. Allot of Indians in America were killed for being Indian. When an Indian boy came of age, they would be thrown into a jungle and starve until they saw an animal spirit. This was probably prelude to eating said spirit animal while thanking it for helping him live on.

"I, Evergreen implore you to stay within my womb of plant and fauna."
"Hm." replied the wanderer. Not wanting to argue.
The wanderer took a seat beside a flowing creek on a rock. The creek lead up to waterfall, which in turn lead through a river that spanned for miles. The river did not speak as it was an extension of the forest, Evergreen. Down the creek was the old homes of the Indian tribe.
"Have you ever saved someone else?" The wanderer asked.
"My yes, of course. Everyone who is to enter without water or food is rescued by my charming animals! And luxurious streams. I am quite hospitable you see. There was a tribe who lived within me, they were by name called the Perchil tribe. But they had to leave for more. Hmph. As if anything up in that ****** town is worth more then me."

Further up the river, away from the forest was a town named "Milan". It was named after a kingdom of the same name in Italy. People in Milan spoke German. This was odd given Milan lay in south America, but not unusual given its history of being a port to German slave traders who came from a German colony called "Tanganyika" in Africa. The town was named Milan because the Germans wanted to appear more Italian. This desire was apparent in their most famous dishes "schnitzel Pizza" and "Pasta Salsiccia". Pasta Salsiccia was pasta in a sausage casing often served with tomato sauce and mashed potatoes.

Perchil was also a member of that Indian tribe. He was Nahiko's brother and had a family of his own. Perchil was born in Evergreen and educated in Milan. He had been fighting with Nahiko over the terms of sale of the forest. Nahiko had wanted to preserve the land of old tribe. Perchil was already drawing up plans to sell it to an oil foundry. Their land happened to be on top of a great oil reserve. That means allot of animals lived and died on that land millions or thousands of years ago. There body would dissolve into a black gooey liquid used to fuel heavy machinery. This machinery is used by logging firms to cut down not exclusively, forests named Evergreen.

The wanderer, feeling awkward asked. "So, you'd rather not want to be destroyed?"
"Oh, I am a forest and I do maintain a will of my own and wants. But I cannot rather things should be anything other than what they are. The world is a destructive place. It is disrespectful of its former home and ancestry. I know this. I have tried however, to ward off the workmen by scaring them with my animals. In the end I shall become a town or a shopping mall."
In 3 years time, the deed to "Evergreen plains, Milan" would be sold and used to build a shopping mall named aptly "Evergreen Mall". And the forests voice would be spoke out of loudspeakers, but in the form of either a pre-recorded message or announcement about a lost child. Nahiko and Perchil would be married in Evergreen Mall. Nahiko three times.

"Oh woe is me, I lament my lost brothers and sister forests who are no longer beaming and prideful of their enormous trees and crested riverbanks."
"Maybe they should have defended themselves better." The wanderer spoke, trying unsuccessfully to show concern.
"Well, I for one will never give up fighting the man!"
"Good for you." The wanderer then ate his lunch.

Three days from now, the forest would stop speaking to anyone who arrived within its borders and see the lone wanderer again. But this time, he would be protected by four glass windows inside a piece of machinery powered by black gooey liquid called a "harvester" which lifted up wood and cut it into easily transportable pieces.

"Do you, believe in god wanderer?" The forest asked, to strike up some conversation.
"I do believe in god. He's the reason I get up in the morning and assists me in supporting my family."
"I don't. I don't think I believe in god, wanderer. If he exists, how could he let something so beautiful as I and my brother and sister forests be turned into shopping malls and townships like Milan."
The evergreen forest had seen the name "Milan" as a city nearby on a poster which flew into the twig of its tree. The poster was now lying on smooth ground weighted down by a root, as so the forest can read it over and over again. The poster advertised Pasta Salsiccia at a local restaurant in Milan. It had appetizing pictures of Pizza with crumbed steak on it and Pasta filled Sausages.
"God once flooded the earth, destroying all forests and people for their misgivings. Maybe you misgave and people are your divine punishment."
The forest grew silent and whispered soft hymns of wind against the leaves and overgrown shrubbery.

The edge of the creek, where the wanderer sat on a rock had a hard sand that stretched out a few meters disappeared into the dirt. It was unusual to see a small bed of sand without any other visible placements of sand. The wanderer had been dumping it there, with permission from the forest so he could form a base to store his harvester. The forest did not know of the sands purpose, she thought it looked pretty.
"If I were god, the world would be nothing but forests!" Evergreen stated. The gentle words turning a harsher coarse crackling of branches.
"The world seems to be nothing but people right now. Maybe gods a man."
"Unlikely! If god was a man, he would certainly love forests enough to never cut them down."
"Hm." The wanderer was dissatisfied with this explanation, but didn't want to argue.

"Would you **** anyone who came into your forest, just to prove a point?" The wanderer asked, waiting pensively.
"Oh no, as I said. I cannot change what already is and certainly would not bloom the effort to try. Besides. I also know about those people and their weapons. When it comes to human beings, no matter how hard I fight they will always win. How they ever came to develop boom guns and ratatatat chainsaws I have no idea. If they came from my forest, people would certainly have never developed tools so cruel and menacing. But, I suppose Eden had her way for you. Even if it was, at the cost of all our kind."
"Yeah. No matter forest or person, people always win. I'll always be below some rich powerful man too." The wanderer felt melancholy for feeling unimportant. The forest felt the same melancholy for her life and the world.

Suddenly and finally, a noise came from the wanderers pants. He then picked out his phone, clicked it and took it to his ear. After two hours, the wanderer walked east and out of Evergreen forest. He visited her three days later in his noisy harvester. made to cut wood. He parked on his sand bed. The wanderer left his harvester and locked the door without a word. Evergreen forest was properly harvested of its trees in 3 years time. Never uttering a word or complaint. The painted marking on the harvester she saw everyday however, was her last thought as she disappeared. The word painted onto the door of the harvester, its operator. "Perchil."
I wrote this a while ago, it's my first short story. Tell me if you like it. And maybe, beseech me. Whatever. I dunno. BE GENTLE!!!
You saw me in yourself.
Only the part you can't command cant quite understand,
the squirmy bit you never quiet .... pinned.
so
just tell me i'm worthless
so you can deny the empty space in your chest,
where missing me used to reside.
You think i'm to ashamed to say a thing,
but i think you really know
im just afraid to be your echo
be your echo
be your echo.
You grow louder,
you step closer while i blink against your breath.
Tears fall
letting all the words you quip whip against me,
slip under my skin and send
my head swimming ,
giving away every feeling..
I always give away what i'm feeling
letting you know every nerve you hit
while tint bits
of your spittle spray across my face.
I force my feelings burning at you toward myself,
let my gaze drift to dust moats distressed
by your immense bellows,
occupying the distance between our being
while suddenly  seeming
as fragile as me .
each syllable in your enunciation
violently shaking,
the tiny particles making
the atoms in my being
vibrate.In time with your percussion
aimed at conquering my space
dominating the way i think
my name.
never hesitation toward making your exterior imply im inferior.

you fight in sharp words.
believe me when I say I have always heard you

-----------silence-----------------
my silence always fallows the words you hurl around like blunt objects.
Does my silence startle you?
Is my vulnerability upsetting ?
or is it the vast distance i place between us to protect my well being?
You always told me by action intimidation is how you conquer space to grow,
while everyone else would have me know
its my obligation to shrink out of existence.
so i let my persistence gather just beneath my surface
so i will remember i'm not worth more
and sure as hell not worth-less
I will expend every breath i take
on taking as much space as person of my mass requires,
remembering to allot room for my beautiful mind,
all the bit of me you encouraged I leave behind,
consider the gravitational force of like energy.
listen to me,
..................................................
why is it you are afraid of my lack of statement?
especially when i refuse to aim it..
like a weapon.
...
just listen..
to the silence...
because it can provide so much more than i can string into statements,
it will give you answers when you let it.
self reflection frees me,
maybe that's why i'm not scared so easily
over silly phrases like "i'm sorry."
and all i keep on thinking is
you have to answer to yourself
someday when theirs no one else to listen....
i can't demand a thing from you when
you still cling to static thinking if you
keep your heart racing
words following
you wont get trapped thinking over the words you were just throwing
knowing you set out to hurt me,
to hurt my feelings
to afraid of yourself to manage
your own silence,
so you just keep screaming.
while i don't say a word,
just keep thinking
i wish you would do the same.
Because i tried
to tell you everything .
and now all i have to give you .....
is silence....
and you still don't hear..
anything.
This one was made to be spoken.
Give every spoken word,
Oh, listener,
A work-space in your mind.
Even if it's misinterpreted
No harm is sprouted.
Allot double the space
If and when it's written.
Knowing my limits I realize,
I am not a machine!
10-04-2015
Solitaire Archer Jun 2014
You've Done Nothing Today!!!

The angry words rocketed around the room
echoed by the of the slamming door

Darkness descended on the cold kitchen floor
without a sound he was there shaking and small

Why is he angry and why did you lie
you always have told me it's the truth you abide

looking into that tiny face I found
tears and dark confusion there

Why child of my heart , do you say I lie?
with his tear washed face
I cupped in my hands

Nothing was done today as you know
no laundry nor cleaning and I did nothing I sighed

But Momma he cried have you forgotten it all?

The walk on the beach and playing dodge ball
remember the birds nest and the first bluebells
I know you remember that old wishing well

I dropped to my knees and enfolded him then
held him so tight he cried Momma "when"
So I've washed off my face and pinned up my hair
Put a casserole in and a note to be fair,

Gone for walk. we have allot to do,
we are doing nothing again today,
Bright Blessings to you

Solita@2005
Shaquille Otto Apr 2020
In order to start change you must make the choice to be willing to change
Choices start from the heart then the mind follows
Changes happen after a person realizes that what the affect was on them and those who surround them
Once that certain person begins to start making the right choices then the progress will slowly affect the person
No matter how bad or good the choice may be, you're always left with a choice
After the choice there's always a reaction to whatever action may be, it's left up to you for the outcome
The outcome will always be left up to you, make good choices and good outcome; make bad choices and you get bad outcomes
Change doesn't happen over night or in an blink of an eye, it will take time and willingness to learn what is necessary to change
Not all change is for the good, many people fail to realize that change can be bad results
Not due to the willingness or the time but the focus of which matter is off the right direction and leads to only chaos and destruction
Many of us don't think about where an action my lead, some of us think before we act and that is the difference between right and wrong
With every choice that is choose it leads you to a place that is unknown, darkness or the lightness is the only two options you have
Choices always start from the within, meaning the heart, the soul, and the spirit; without these 3 being focused on the choices to change
there's no point in trying to change
The heart is the muscle that controls who you are
The soul is beyond our reach, it is the one thing that is unique about us as humans
The spirit is higher power inside of us, either from above or from below;
When all of you is one then the change will affect you and those surround you allot more than what it did before
But without your whole self then the choices to change become pointless; you'll just become a creation of your own self destruction
By making choices to change you must have the right mindset and know what you want in life.
I wrote this poem because i realized at the worst time of my relationship and personal life i had a choice to change. No matter what happens in life you're always left with a choice. It's up to you if you make a choice.
I made the choice to stay and fight for what i believe in and who i love.
Dedicated to AMY PEREZ
apathy May 2013
I think about you every single day
I miss you way more than I miss being happy
Sure, we fought allot
but is that worth all my pain and suffering?

All the tears
All the anger
All the pain
Was that worth it leaving you?
I don’t know

I lost myself last year
I got caught up in my own pain
I never even realized,
What it would do to you

I sit there in class
And I look at you
Thinking, is there anything I can do?
But yet again, will we fight?

The one thing that's holding me back
Do I have the will to go back to you?
Most importantly, do you want to
This is your choice

I know I was stupid
I know I was wrong
All those letters, I lost myself in them
I wish I could fix that

Can we fix what’s broken?
Will you trust me again?
Can I believe you won’t hurt me?
I don’t know

It’s too hard to forget the unforgettable
The past is never the past to me
People told me to move on, forget about it
I told them no

You mean way too much to me
I can’t live another second without you
Give me a chance to show you, I’ve changed
Give me a second chance
I’ll do anything
I would die to have that chance again
You are my everything

If you say no, I’ll cry every night
If you say yes, things will change
I had to leave to back then, it wasn’t my choice
And I know, deep inside, you would come back
That’s just who you are

Some people tell me to stop
I will never stop
I’m nothing without you

Please forgive me, for everything
I was wrong
Nothing was right
I can’t stand avoiding my friends because of you
Forgive me, please
George Ellison Aug 2011
Allot of lies and allot of untold secrets
I don't wanna be your friend so go and ask Jesus
because now showing love is a sign of weakness
when confronted you got allot to say but that's needless
I mute out bullshyt so like Ms.Keller i'm just looking and speechless
Please...real nigz couldn't be fake and fake nigz couldn't be real
because in the end you reveal your friends ego ideal and its to be you
so you now they're thinking its surreal
you whisper lies when i'm not in the presence
so unless you reading off info don't say George Ellison in not one sentence
you prolly would think I would respond with vengeance
cause my deference is something you lack in your preference
so all you can do is hate my essence....your style of lies are nonsense
preach what you speak don't lie to yourself
I guess you got allot to prove since you have no rewards on your shelf
so me myself I never hold my breathe on a promise
cause my conscious wont let me consume the nonsense
I guess its from the darkness that turned my heart heartless
but to me being heartless is nothing harmless...
so for friends i'm now apparent because I feel better off contentment
because who likes being looked at transparent...Not me..
feedback please
Gia Garcia Jun 2016
I wanna spend my time with you
I don't really allot my time like this
I usually just waste it
But now I know where I want it to go
I want to spend it just to see your smile
Just to hear your laugh and fake cries
To mess your nesty hair
Admire your face
Memorize every trace of it and just keep you
To go grocery shopping with you
Go restaurant hopping with you
Pay bills with you
Buy a new air conditioner when the one we have breaks
Paint the walls of our home
Contemplate on which color scheme we want
Hold your hand as we walk places
Watch timeless movies while we're wrapped up in our quilt
Dance to EDM, just the two of us
Pass out next to each other
Go out late at night just to drink coffee
Cover our favorite love songs
Read books
Watch YouTube videos
Have tricycle rides
Manage our lives
Argue about big and small things
Cry
Storm out
Crawl back into each others' arms
Knowing that its the only place where we've felt so much love
Do adult stuff, together
Carry you to bed when youve had too much too drink
Kiss your forehead while you sleep
Take care of you
Love you
Over and over
And not get tired of doing so
That's all I wanna do with whatever time I have left
Just...
Spend it all on you
Because you
Of all things
Are most definitely
The one and only thing
That matters to me.
For Ian Xaviery
deanena tierney Feb 2012
Why do I call you "friend?"
When I'm sure it's love I feel?
And why do I always pretend,
That real just isn't real?
Why do I allot you such a tiny part,
When only you can make me whole?
Why do I seem to withhold my heart,
And in secret surrender my soul?
Why do I always ask for proof,
To the certainties which I know?
Why do I always doubt the truth,
And in disbelief just let it go?
I love you now
Right now
Right now you're broke
You need allot of help
You're in a bad place
You need me
And I love you.
I'll love you in the future
When we're living together
When we have stable jobs
Good cars
And can afford rent without killing ourselves with jobs.
I'll love you when we have our first child
Boy or girl
I don't mind
As long as it's ours.
I'll love you when we grow older
When your hair starts to turn gray
And wrinkles start to appear
I'll love you when you need a cane to walk
When you get some heart disease from all the sandwiches you eat now
And when you need help just to go to the bathroom.
Babe...
I'll love you through it all
When it's hard
When it's easy
We'll always get through it
Always.
lucidwaking Apr 2021
Half asleep feet shuffle in aimlessly;
Water fills the celestial coffeepot.
Chocolate brown grounds by a spoon are allot.
A spoonful spills to the floor! This marks its tragedy.
Another, another, so painfully,
This tragedy would make any distraught.
How can sleep be torn from eyes so bloodshot
Without the black elixir so holy?

The sleepy feet walk through the garage door,
Each brooms' handle is long like cold harpoons.
It sweeps up the wasted dreams on the floor.
"I measured out my life in coffee spoons."1
The tedious toil begins once more,
And so go the morning coffee mistunes.


1 - From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot
I gladly accept critiques. Thank you kindly!
dennis drain Apr 2015
Hello, my name is Dennis Drain, I am 17 years old and currently attending Silver Creek High School as a junior. My school has officially made changes to its curriculum to fit a big picture school. In this form of schooling students explore there interests and gain high school accreditation threw the real world work they do in the community. In speaking to my advisory teacher Mr. Topp we have found that having an interview with a musician who knows the business would positively impact my career. I have great interest in the rap industry. I have allot of lyrics that I have wrote and would like to start recording. As part of my semester goals I would like to start to build a foundation of musicians, lyricists, company leaders, and producers. You can contact my advisory teacher Mr.Topp during the hours of 9:00 Am and 3:30 Pm at the schools number (208)-578-5060 or through email at ttopp@blaineschools.org . I would be able to do the interview via Skype, Facetime or Googlechat.  Please help me in attempting to chase my dream through hard work, persistence and the community you belong to. You can contact me personally via email at ZtickZblaZiN@yahoo.com facebook or by phone at (208)-720-0961 ask for Dennis. Thank you for your attention to this email, I look forward to speaking with you in the near future.
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                  - Dennis Drain
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                  ZtickZ
King Key Aug 2018
I love you more then life
The life I want to spend with you
I love you unconditionally
Don’t ask if it’s true
I want to give You something great
Be there when you need me
But now your happy
And now I’m needy
Don’t cry cheer up
because I’m the fool
I just wanted attention
Used me like a tool .
Your happy now
and to you I congratulate
But I’m not the reason
so I’m clearly to late
Allot of lessons I learned
You tought me and this is one
You loved it
And i thought it’d be fun
goodbye poetry
You remind me of someone.
Kitty Parson Mar 2012
My dearest Darling
Daddy,
My heart yearns for you,
You make my heart pound.
You'll always be in my heart.
            Two
Let our | hearts beet as one.
Be still my beeting heart.
You stole my heart.
My chest is an empty Shell
only your heart can fill.
Eye heart you allot
                            Heartfelt
<3 4ever, youre  Secret
                            Admirer
MdAsadullah Nov 2014
Just about the size of my thumb
Plant so delicate and dumb
little by little I see my henna plant grow

You don't have tongue to talk
You don't have legs to walk
little by little I see my henna plant grow

The sun makes you sweat
And rain makes you wet
little by little I see my henna plant grow

Up grows your shoot
Down grows your root
little by little I see my henna plant grow

One by one leaves sprout
Making you strong and stout
little by little I see my henna plant grow

In this season of spring
Sparrows around you dance and sing
little by little I see my henna plant grow

At times they pluck your leaves
those cute little thieves
little by little I see my henna plant grow

I give a miserly glance but I don't interfere
It is entirely nature's affair.
little by little I see my henna plant grow

Your tiny existence soothes my eyes
I can hear you when others fail hear your voice
little by little I see my henna plant grow

You are Sharing another plant's flowerpot
Don't worry a new *** soon we will allot
little by little I see my henna plant grow


There you will grow bigger and bigger
Your branches will become stiffer and stiffer
little by little I see my henna plant grow


Within you they will make beautiful nest
Sparrows with enthusiasm and zest
little by little I see my henna plant grow

And when you are big and strong
Maybe then I'll be inspired to write another song.
little by little I see my henna plant grow.
little by little I see my henna plant grow.
Nicholas Oct 2014
Deep within my soul, there's allot of flattered beats
that longing to hear your sound
Look at into my eyes...
My heart won't pin you down

Even the sky wants you to be with me on the sun
We blaze the flames to get burnt
Your love a drink...
drifting throughout the body like “current”

My love craving for the warmth of your sigh
Your moan gives an honor to moon
Look ov'r the wickedness of my shimmering night
The love ‘Red’ but the heart loves the color you wear...  ‘Maroon’.
It`s been a while I didn`t post anything new.. so, here I go ;)
Seb Garcia Oct 2010
In an effort to get people to look
into each others eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
Written by Mr. Jeffrey McDaniel an american poet. THought it was a great poem and wanted to share it.
Today, I let it all out.

I've ignored the situation and pushed it to the back of my mind
the way the snow plows push the snow to the side of the street.
But for some reason today I just couldn't activate the plow in my mind
that let's me forget about everything and concentrate on the moment.

I started to reminisce and with that came intoxication. I became intoxicated
by the past memories of every time you looked at me, smiled at me,
talked to me, stared at me. I was so foolish, under a rock of such false hope
that I couldn't see the signs clearly directed towards my blind eyes.

But now I can; it all didn't matter, and I don't matter. I highly
doubt you take time out of your day to allot to thinking of me
even in the slightest sense -- it's easy to fill your mind with school
and other occupants that seem to fill whatever section of your
heart could potentially be left for me. Maybe it's only convenient
for you to acknowledge me when you want to be kind or when you
just want a self esteem booster. Funny, how with one single phrase someone's
self esteem is raised while the other person's is crushed under the weight it took
in order to get those words out just to be greeted with another disappointment.

And so now I spent a while just listening to sad songs and letting out all
the tears I promised myself would never leave my eye for you in realizing
whatever I thought we had was never true.

I can't sleep because you're the first image that flashes in my head
but I can't stay awake because all I  do is think about you and how
much I want to talk with you and how I can't because then I'll know
a friend is all I'll ever be but all I just want you to do is see the real
me.
heathen Nov 2016
"Is this anti-feminist of me?" I wonder out loud into the steam as I shave the fine, tiny hairs in my armpit. "Maybe," it whispers back, "I don't know."

Showering is very therapeutic for me. Being around or in any body of water usually is. This time gives my thoughts free reign, wondering about anything that the structure of my day doesn't normally allot time for. I think - or don't - dumping my stream of consciousness down the drain with my conditioner, rinsing myself of impurities.

---

I’ve killed my third plant in two months. They were all those little succulents too, the ones that are supposed to be next to impossible to **** up. A plant that has grown and adapted and learned to thrive in harsh environments, can sustain life for months without any water or even sunlight, through sandstorms and deep permeating frosts and being trampled on by...a camel? An armadillo? I’m actually not really sure where succulents are naturally indigenous from. I bought mine on the cheap from Trader Joe’s. Maybe California? Anyway, it can flourish all completely on its own - and I killed it. This is my relationship with plants. I so desperately want to feel like I am the kind of person who is attuned to life and have a natural synchronicity to all things living. I like to tell my friends that I am Snow White and that the elements and the animals all bend to my touch and my will. The idea is to purposely come across as boastful but I know that when I repeat this terrible joke over and over, the person I’m truly trying to convince of that is myself. Hovering, I keep a watchful eye over what I have put so much investment in and tweak and pinch and poke until I am positive every aspect of their care and growth has been properly attended to. And then they die. I pour too much care into my wards and leave them drowning, but only with the best of intentions. Nature vs. nurture vs. me.

This is my relationship with people. I can become overbearing. I know I can. So, I make sure that I’m not. I’ve got that deep-seeded nurturing aspect that is laced within my responsible, eldest female caretaker upbringing, which translates to me being overly affectionate but also being headstrong and yell-
y. I just want the best for you, I say as I smother my loved ones. I sigh and exfoliate my feet.

After draining all of my thoughts, I emerge from the shower into this wall of humidity. I feel sterile and perfect. This whole scene feels like some sort of cinematic metaphor for rebirth, but really I'm just trying to look presentable for work. I grab my fat purple towel and pat dry my face. While I'm blinded, I shuffle to position myself in front of the mirror. Naked, I throw my towel to the side to reveal myself. I play this game every time I bathe, and every time I hope to unveil a new person. I look at myself in the fogged mirror. Still me, just wetter. Shinier. Pinker.

---

"You know, 'pinker' isn't a real word," my friend who I read this to tells me. "You should replace it with 'more pink.'"

"You know," I start, "language isn't even, like, a real thing. It's just a set of ancient rules and guidelines based in other dead 'languages' to give ourselves boundaries of comfort and live in predictability and reason. I'm shaping language to my vernacular to best portray my thoughts and ideas to you. You know what I'm trying to say, anyway. After all, language is just another construct. It keeps communication within a nice, neat little package, therefore it keeps creativity and free thought in a nice, neat little package. I'm, like, redefining definitions. I'm making words my own. Like Dr. Seuss! I'm like ******* Dr. Seuss. Zoopity Zoo and Binkity *****! That means 'Step outside of your temple of familiarity, you ******* sheep person.'"

I was never one to take constructive criticism very well.
My friend goes home. I go to take a shower.
Ottar Apr 2013
A foul wind blew in last May.
The cool night air still lingers. The stench, is fading.
Though the hot head moved his/her stuff.
He moved allot of stuff, but he had help.
He did not betray any emotion, other than
seething. He did not
see a thing other than red.
The cool night air coolly lingered.

Saturday the notice was served
verbal barbs flew, they were leaving. Period.
There was no grieving.
The white truck arrived.
The white truck came took the first load,
he was very possessed by those things
he did not own. Never, ever.
The white truck had been here before, delivery
after, delivery, after,
delivery.  It was criminal.

They have taken more stuff out then
they brought in.
During daylight anyway.
More stuff than most people have when they have
day
jobs.

The late night visits, by the police will be less,
less stress for the rest of us.
The memory of the strangers,
which would come and pay cash
for unlawful sales will go stale,
maybe.
He would do most of his own work,
at night when our eyes were closed,
rest was often disturbed, sleep too.

I ramble but he gambled and in this
round he lost.  She lost. They lost.
There a businesses and homes and cars
that have paid the cost.
He is considered a small fish in the
Enforcement Sea, as a species,
he has evolved and hides all very
well,
he could open his mouth
wide enough and swallow
....!
The wind has changed directions,
and what lingers is smelling ... less.
Oh don't worry he has a storage place and home
to operate, he just has this move which is plainly a pain
he has to sustain, to maintain the lifestyle
to which they are accustom.
apathy Jan 2015
Dear friends,
Hello. How are you? I'm fine, thanks.
Recently, I haven't been opening up at all,
And I'm sorry,
Some of you I trust with little things,
Some, not at all...
Well, you know who you are and where you stand.

There's allot of things i haven't been telling you
Now, I wont go in depth,
Cause there's not much time left,
But this might be my last chance to be honest.

Things have been getting worse,
Slowly with time
I don't even know who I am anymore,
I've lost control.
I had a mental breakdown about a week ago
I guess it's just too much, all of this
I can't do this anymore

Now, don't say "I'm sorry"
There's nothing to be sorry for
I couldn't let you in,
Because I shut my windows and doors

I've realized one thing,
It just wont get better,
My life slowly fell apart,
Day by day,
And here I am
Ready to just die
The lies don't make things better
But I can't tell the truth either

Who wants to know the truth anyways?
I'm sure I really don't,
Not now, not ever,
Because when someone tells the truth,
Someone else gets hurt

Don't ask what happened,
Because there's no answer,
No real explanation
Its my fault...
It always has been
Goodbye friends

sincerely, Apathy, aka Holdingon, aka em1640, aka Emily
Roberta Day May 2015
Lessening sadnesses
by appropriating real-time
  I wish for certainty
but don’t grant myself
that luxury–unworthy of
getting my way, fulfilling
my desires…all renters
no buyers, not in this market
Writing without cause
to satisfy my purpose
Giving your name
less power by replacing it
with Jump Ship, ‘cause
that’s what you do, when
the action gets too hot
you can no longer allot
your time…your priorities
change within a day
  I wish for consistency
but don’t grant myself
the serenity to accept
it won’t come from you.
so pathetic

— The End —