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"annoys" poems
You cause a break inside my organs Pointing out my flaws our differences. You are at peace. I sit jittering, worrying what everyone will think of when I didn’t care you made me laugh at everything Changes.  You’re not right for me Nor I for you, but I can’t help Thinking What if?  Then I remember you’re not what nor Everything I want. You are an intellectual snob you have a depth about you I would love to delve in, a psychological study that even the best critics would praise, but I don’t want anyone else to have been there or ever go there. I cannot hold on to you tear me away while You’re haphazardly gluing us together We’re a kindergarten art project messy, trying to see Beauty within the confusion, unfinished     You asked me Where am I most at peace 4 years old.       I could be anything No fears I hadn’t been ripped apart. I was the girl that said everything, until I felt the need to screen my thoughts, like the filter you use to make your coffee each morning.  I wish that’s where I was, having you tell me that you like your women like your coffee Dark and bitter. I can look past your chauvinistic ways, not giving a **** about anyone. You’re not really closed minded You just act like it, which annoys the hell out of me Sometimes.  I wish life was simple.     But then I would never know your complexities nor Feel the things you help me feel, like hate for train whistles or the burn of gin hitting my throat. Music       you introduce me to offstage trumpets, bad movies.  Your politics, your brown eyes       and how you can hear frequencies that most everyone else can’t.  I worry that you hear the fear in my voice and heartbreak With every word I speak. When were you going to tell me? Or was that your plan all along? To throw me out like yesterday’s coffee grounds or cut up scraps Used and unwanted. I wish I could tell you to tell her you don’t want her but me instead, you don’t, I don’t want you to. I want holding hands, laughter comfort, personality, humor, intellect. You want that plus things I can’t give But you always take. You are your coffee disgusting, caffeinated, addicting the only patch that helps is comforting words you never spoke. We had many conversations of your desires, lusts, mistakes, but I was burned, by lies, distrust. You left, like always, a harsh, acidic aftertaste on my tongue.
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
Coffee
You cause a break inside my organs Pointing out my flaws our differences. You are at peace. I sit jittering, worrying what everyone will think of when I didn’t care you made me laugh at everything Changes.  You’re not right for me Nor I for you, but I can’t help Thinking What if?  Then I remember you’re not what nor Everything I want. You are an intellectual snob you have a depth about you I would love to delve in, a psychological study that even the best critics would praise, but I don’t want anyone else to have been there or ever go there. I cannot hold on to you tear me away while You’re haphazardly gluing us together We’re a kindergarten art project messy, trying to see Beauty within the confusion, unfinished     You asked me Where am I most at peace 4 years old.       I could be anything No fears I hadn’t been ripped apart. I was the girl that said everything, until I felt the need to screen my thoughts, like the filter you use to make your coffee each morning.  I wish that’s where I was, having you tell me that you like your women like your coffee Dark and bitter. I can look past your chauvinistic ways, not giving a **** about anyone. You’re not really closed minded You just act like it, which annoys the hell out of me Sometimes.  I wish life was simple.     But then I would never know your complexities nor Feel the things you help me feel, like hate for train whistles or the burn of gin hitting my throat. Music       you introduce me to offstage trumpets, bad movies.  Your politics, your brown eyes       and how you can hear frequencies that most everyone else can’t.  I worry that you hear the fear in my voice and heartbreak With every word I speak. When were you going to tell me? Or was that your plan all along? To throw me out like yesterday’s coffee grounds or cut up scraps Used and unwanted. I wish I could tell you to tell her you don’t want her but me instead, you don’t, I don’t want you to. I want holding hands, laughter comfort, personality, humor, intellect. You want that plus things I can’t give But you always take. You are your coffee disgusting, caffeinated, addicting the only patch that helps is comforting words you never spoke. We had many conversations of your desires, lusts, mistakes, but I was burned, by lies, distrust. You left, like always, a harsh, acidic aftertaste on my tongue.
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90
“I would never be like those girls, they’re crazy.”   Thats what I told myself when I saw every girl fan girling over some boyband. I always wonder why they have to cry even though their idols just tweeted a picture or releases a new song; music video. I always wonder why they have to waste their time to vote. It annoys me when they try their best to get their idols attention by spamming them. Fangirls get to my nerves, but I stayed quiet. I hated it. I hated them because they’re dedicating their life to someone who doesn’t even know they exist. I mean I like some bands, but I never ever did those stuff. "I would never ever.” I told myself. But one day, I woke up… "Hi, we’re 5 Seconds Of Summer." Then everything started to change.   — *And then and there I knew… Im such an hypocrite.*
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
I hate fangirls
... "This isn't who you are."     "You're not the girl I used to know."    "I don't know who you've become." He repeats these lines So much these days It annoys me more than A broken record ever could Ever should Ever would Cause I told him I warned him thoroughly      "I'm not nice."     "You won't like the real me."    "I'm not worth fighting for." But he didn't listen He filled my head with empty Promises that he meant He filled my heart with hollow Vows that he could never fulfill      "How can a person be so cold?"     "How can a lady be so cruel?"    "How can you change so fast?" He looks hurt and I hurt a little But I shut down Cause that's what I always do      "I'm nefarious, lover."     "Had my heart broken a few times."    "Now it's made of stone."
0
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 3:29 AM UTC
Nefarious Breed
There's something with your flashing smile And I just can't figure it out Some sadness was hiding between your eyes But I just can't seem to catch them all Those bulging cheekbones, glowing bright They contain some kind of mystery They blur all the lines What were you thinking? How were you yesterday? Why was I even asking? It's something I can't put into words But I just kept moving forward Hoping someday you'll tell me Your deepest thoughts and happiness. Your mystery, it annoys me It blocks my vision, I can't see But I love them with all my heart It's even fine with me if you'll stay Just another mystery in my mind Some misery that won't end
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Mystery
I didn't do my homework But you can say That I tried Tomorrow they will notice My latest rebellious behavior It annoys me a lot Because no one ever asks why Why did our straight A girl didn't succeed Not this time? I wish they would ask Then they would see That I am no rebellion I'm actually just being me.
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
I am no rebellion
"Turning gay." Oh how that term annoys me. You cant just turn gay. You're born that way, Its the way you are. You may realize it, Or come to terms with it, But you dont just wake up one day, Out of the blue, And say, "Oh my gosh! I'm gay." Because then it would be like a sickness. Something that you can go get reversed. Its not a sickness. Its not something that can be changed, With therapy, Or meds. You're born gay, Or you're born straight. Just like you were born with black skin, White skin, Brown skin, Or whatever color skin you have. You don't just turn to the other race, Do you now? You cant just turn to the sexuality. You cant turn gay.
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
Turning Gay
He struggles and ponders, reads and re-reads, My markers fail before his eyes, his naivety takes over, A fruit? he queries, I burst out in laughter, Can be, I agree, but I await for more, he peruses and my ribs tickled, amused and curious, I stayed, at his innocence that shined. A Mango! he exclaims! No! I equally enthused 'A woman, a fruit, delicious and mystical, for a man who craves'. 'Oh'  the meek sigh, a tiny sound, concurred or dissent, I know not, In a flash came a verbal rebuff, back to his annoying self. He annoys and appeases, A friend I have known for years, Mine forever, I know for sure, no matter what he says.
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 5:50 AM UTC
Him, his surmise, Dear Ol' Andy
The pastor is preaching, is trying to hit the heart today: What really is Mass, why is it the center of our faith, why really do we come? Familiar questions I’ve asked (though minus the m.) Now this is interesting. He says, this church is Bethlehem, the home of bread. His voice is gradually becoming a mewling through the microphone that annoys me, the strings in his box tightening to a choke like ends of piano wire, almost always to tearing. I can’t see past the doxologizing, but it sounds that this is why we come, his eyes might just have torn. It is the day of the nativity of some Lord, or incarnate God, or son—an almighty Savior. I guess I’d be histrionic too, then, if I knew there was something called my Salvation. If all that was needed was to repent and believe and be faithful and give yourself. That’s not really hard if you never happen to not know your sin or whiff at air or be betrayed or fail to be gotten. At least something else is, though. There’s a girl I spot I would like to **** She is attractive from where I’m standing, flirty I can tell, leering at me and gossiping with another cute girl. If I happen to meet her after the service, I’d like not to have to say much to get her in bed. That way, there isn’t the risk of exhaustion or feeling pointless from trying to tell so much. But that is always going to be hard. That is why I’ll stop sometimes, just chew the bread.
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
The Home of Bread
they borrow your white knitted sweater without asking claim its theirs hand it back eventually now with blue stains that won't come off call you up while out with their dog ask what you're up to cut you off halfway through your reply turnes out they only wanted to know if you were available to watch the dog mention you gained weight when in your bikini (no, you did not ask) but when you lay in your sofa contemplating that hideous feeling below your chest you receive a text   asking if you are being kind to yourself as you should tell your mum when you're not around how they appreciat how you always cared about people and that they knew you were gonna make it and when you're home they make you laugh so hard you accidentally *** a little sure it annoys you when you wash the sweater again that the stains still won't come off but it doesn't really matter does it   you were kind of tired of that shirt anyway
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Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 4:49 PM UTC
siblings
Things that annoy me 1: parents telling you what to do 2: parents telling you that they wouldn't do something bad to you when they already did 3: parents telling you who to talk to 4: parents saying things that make you feel insecure even though they say they don't mean it   5: stupid politions 6: racists 7: homophobic people 8: people who preach too much 9: killers or murders 10: close minded people 11: death 12: stupid people 13: people who aren't obvious 14: people who yell too much 15: people who try to stop you from being yourself 16: Favouritism with children 17: people who write lists of what annoys them
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 4:46 PM UTC
Untitled #6
Creativity is not measured by how many love songs there are on the radio Writing one more does not make love songs unoriginal Nor does it make it bad to like love songs All it does is put a new love song into the world Creativity is not making something that has never been made before Creativity is making something. And if you hate love songs then go ahead tell me they're not original tell me they're too mainstream tell me there's no other subject these days tell me how that annoys you. But don't tell me that making something isn't worth celebrating Don't tell me creativity is only what you think it is
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Creativity
The "IN" crowds here, you better steer clear for they think they are better than you The style of dress, language proves it. They're just like peacocks; beautiful,full of themselves, and just love strutting around. They sit and gossip and talk about things that aren't relevant. The "IN" crowd annoys some, while others worship them. their influence is amazing yet they do nothing.
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Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 5:09 PM UTC
The "IN" Crowd
its the TV commercials the fake **** the campaign trail the welfare recipients psychotic shooters bible thumpers and athiests salesmen gangsters and special interests its junk mail the court system its the poor paying more the ignorant the scared the recluse the extroverts the sales tax the hospital bills zombie ammo beggars making more than me nuclear threats starvation animal abuse drug addiction half assery its the bullies the police its advantage in retreat the lies the masks the crys the laughs its all the ******** that ******* annoys me
0
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Get it out
World leaders thunder denunciations But my dachshund puppy annoys the cats Bombing planes fly in nuclear drills But my dachshund puppy just ate a moth Religious leaders are shredding their files But my dachshund puppy barfed up that moth I don’t know if I’ll lose my job next year But my dachshund puppy got spanked by Queen Cat The fat boys on the radio yell a lot But my dachshund puppy is barking mindlessly My senator says he stands up for the flag But my dachshund puppy is stealing the cat food My president seems to play golf for the flag But my dachshund puppy is napping in the sun And the cats are quite happy about that
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Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
Crises Both Foreign and Domestic Reduced to Dogs and Cats
She sits in the back of classes Answers all the questions As if there to her all alone. She annoys those around Like no other. She spews out another answer, And sits back with a smug smile. She thinks she just a little better then the rest. She basks in the glow of self satisfaction, Looking disdainfully down on those around her. All the While insulting those who laugh or smile, as if their Happiness annoys her most of all. Do you think when she looks around, And realizes she has no friends, That she just supposes she’s too good for them?
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
The Girl in my English Class
A yellow belly cardinal launches itself at my window Pecks away at the old window pane, Should I chase the intruder away? Or should I make him the subject of my next poem He became my inspiration, and I his adversary It slurred whistled phrases calm my inner soul After a while the pecking annoys my daughter’ cat So, here I am compromising myself and not caring Because I am about to compose a piece: About war and peace: title Fluffy and the **** bird I took out my camera and zoom in on its beady eyes, and realize that it was as blind as a bat Teeth-chattering, tail going from side to side, doing the war dance this **** cat, A blind cardinal with a sweet melody what more can I asked for, but to watch and learn from the intruder, the spoil feline and the observer, A yellow belly cardinal launch at my window Pecks away at the old window pane, Should I chase the intruder away? Or let my daughters’ cat razz it?
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
The Intruder
A face that envisages the intensity within The purity of his soul is visible in those eyes. His words are a reflection of his honest heart And his silence says everything he wants to hide. When he wields the willow, he becomes a warrior Desperate to give his last ounce for his nation. He resists all temptation with ****** mindedness And fights the enemy hard, to protect his team’s bastion. His passion never lets satisfaction reach his soul. He’s as harsh on himself as he’s on the opposition Nothing annoys him more than his own failure The past struggles have only elevated his ambition. He’s an epitome of innocence and simplicity But don’t get fooled by his diminutive looks. For there’s a reservoir of fire inside his head Which explodes when he’s provoked by crooks. He bats for India wearing his tri-coloured gloves Like his 1 billion compatriots are holding his hands. Their love strengthens his grip, empowers his bat And runs flow in abundance as like a rock he stands! He’s a special cricketer, selfless, gritty and gifted. But what he is on the field is not really his best part. The person within is more precious, like a rare gem. Beneath that stern and strong face, there’s a lovely heart.
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Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 11:32 PM UTC
A deadly little cherub!
oh.have.the.heart.to.welcome.a.stranded.soul 1. If you’re given the jolly gift of a green ribbon Would you use it as a link to answers Or to hang your pretty neck? 2. If a tree has been yearning to the sky for more than sixty years Would you now stub out your ciggie in its folds Or embrace its giving energy? 3. If such books have been written many millennia ago – saying a multitude Would you shut your ears to debate and follow blindly Or respectfully ask bold questions? 4. If a man kneels repentant in the dust to wipe your shoes Would you offer a hand up Or trample on his fingers and spit on his bent head? 5. If the insipid cashier annoys your sensibilities Do you leave it unattended And later sickeningly vent and shout at the wrong one at home? 6. If a once-beautiful cat lies dead in the road Would you let your rapid wheels contribute to its messy mince Or do the ***** job of humanely scooping away its remains? 7. If a powerful dream comes mayhap to honour you Would you ignore its seemingly-confusing message Or follow its signals (in a maze)  to certain life-enhancing enrichment? 8. If constant calamity touches your being on stretched resources Would you keep popping those three sublinguals with alarming ease Or try to surrender and accept the pain under arborescent canopies? 9. If an old woman suffers a stroke in the heart of festivity Would you refrain from visits while sending easy bouquets and fruit-baskets Or take the time to help her struggling steps to the toilet? 10. If the moon shines tonight on your wretched suffering Would you hurl silent abuse and curse its half-light Or glance up to catch perchance the echo of your deepest wishes in the air around ...? *you.can’t.honestly.say.that.it.matters.not for.it.touches.you.too* S T, 16 July 2013
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
Bold questions
oh.have.the.heart.to.welcome.a.stranded.soul 1. If you’re given the jolly gift of a green ribbon Would you use it as a link to answers Or to hang your pretty neck? 2. If a tree has been yearning to the sky for more than sixty years Would you now stub out your ciggie in its folds Or embrace its giving energy? 3. If such books have been written many millennia ago – saying a multitude Would you shut your ears to debate and follow blindly Or respectfully ask bold questions? 4. If a man kneels repentant in the dust to wipe your shoes Would you offer a hand up Or trample on his fingers and spit on his bent head? 5. If the insipid cashier annoys your sensibilities Do you leave it unattended And later sickeningly vent and shout at the wrong one at home? 6. If a once-beautiful cat lies dead in the road Would you let your rapid wheels contribute to its messy mince Or do the ***** job of humanely scooping away its remains? 7. If a powerful dream comes mayhap to honour you Would you ignore its seemingly-confusing message Or follow its signals (in a maze)  to certain life-enhancing enrichment? 8. If constant calamity touches your being on stretched resources Would you keep popping those three sublinguals with alarming ease Or try to surrender and accept the pain under arborescent canopies? 9. If an old woman suffers a stroke in the heart of festivity Would you refrain from visits while sending easy bouquets and fruit-baskets Or take the time to help her struggling steps to the toilet? 10. If the moon shines tonight on your wretched suffering Would you hurl silent abuse and curse its half-light Or glance up to catch perchance the echo of your deepest wishes in the air around ...? *you.can’t.honestly.say.that.it.matters.not for.it.touches.you.too* S T, 16 July 2013
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44
What the hell is a katydid? Is it near where the carotid is hid? And, is there a reason we need To know whatever Katy did? Why does macaroni have an elbow? This sounds to me a lot like a phony. And how far back and forward does it go? Really? Anthropomorphized macaroni? What kind of person puts a bra on a car? I mean, the entire idea is a bit bizarre, One of the silliest I have heard of so far. Does anyone know what automoboobies are? Can people play poker with potato chips? Maybe they’ll up the ante with avocado dip? Then Vegas would not be such a wise trip. Gives a new meaning to being ‘in the chips’. Who gets to legally use a homophone? And can anyone properly use it alone? Since we no longer dial, why dial tone? Some of this stuff if from the Twilight Zone. Political parties don’t seem to be fun, Not even for the lucky ones that won. It must mean something that people run But they look like something to run from. Why would anybody put money into a kitty. What is the matter that they have no pity? After all, most kitties are way itty bitty. So, stop putting money into a poor kitty! And this putting on the dog stuff annoys. It sounds like the game of bratty boys; They finally get old enough to ignore toys And play word games on a dog. Oh joy! And what does it mean to horse around? Is it the pantomime horse worn by clowns? It can’t be the kind of horse one rides around? That kind might trample a fool into the ground.
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
TROUBLING QUESTIONS
It's 5am Writing a sob story that's too pathetic to cry over It doesn't matter what you did, what you're doing or what you're going to do because I just want to be with you I feel like a crazed boy band fan who knocks on their door at 5am just to tell them how amazing they are but they already know that so the girl look twice as stupid then she did before her knuckles tapped their door. At least they have body guards so they can prevent her from making a fool Who is there to protect me, to prevent me? Am I suppose to be my own sercurity because I'm not as strong as I make myself seem I can't lock my feelings away I can't program my mind to put a 1-2-3-4-5 digit code and store it some place. It's more than attraction and your beautiful face or the way my heart races down the empty road of our relation ship we never had You and I wanted different things. You wanted my body even then it felt like you didn't I keep hoping and hoping that things will be different. That my feelings will change and you take my position. But it wont and these butterflies in stomach tell me why. Because its 5am when I should be asleep or at least reading a book or watching tv but its 5am and I'm writing about you. The sun is rising and the birds are chirping . The noise of the birds tapping at my window annoys me because it reminds of me you and I not being together it reminds that not only are we not lovers but we're barely even friends
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
**5am Confusion**
Toys get lost. So-called "best friends" cost much more than ere thought. Flowers wilt. She felt gross in kilts; too tall, like on stilts. Santa: **** Rain annoys the roof. Wishes on a hoof. Soda bloats, so do root beer floats and ice cream boats. People die. I still wonder why... They're too tired to cry? Money's spent. Must speak eloquent, yet not what she meant.
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
Seventeen
i was looking for you but found a girl named Cacy instead except im not entirely sure how she spelt it maybe Kasey? Casey? Kacie? She told me she wanted to start going by Cass (Kass?) though i told her that i knew a girl named Cass and even though it was a lie she couldnt tell or maybe she could but either way she said that the name "Cass" was a "fuckable" name, a name that was bound to "get some" and i had nodded with that sheepish grin you hate and started to shake with that embarassing nervousness that annoys you and she held my hand and lit a cigarette she told me that she hated smokers but that it "blurs the edges" i told her that i was all edges she asked why and so i told her about you and how i was looking but how i had found her and how i very much preferred to have found her instead she gave me a cigarette and i coughed because you know i have asthma i said thanks and called her Cass and she had smiled because i think she was starting to grow quite fond of the sound of the name i coughed out my name and she told me about how Peter Pan was "hot" and how wendy was the biggest **** ever we laughed and we smoked we talked and we shivered we went inside and we slept and i didnt cheat even though Cass was quite fuckable i slept and dreamt of her rather than you and woke up much happier than i have ever been.
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 3:45 AM UTC
Cass
I grab a shoe a shoe a shoe Because everyone wears shoes Because everyone needs shoes I grab a shoe and I shove my foot straight in Because that's what everyone does Because my foot wasn't good enough as is. Despite, supporting my weight and keeping me afloat. My foot needs more, to be complete. Because all feet get cold, I guess. But this shoe annoys, it suffocates it squishes my toes that just want to wriggle free And I'll have to wear it, as uncomfortable as it is, until I wear it down But soon after that, this one will have given up on me. And I'll just have to get a new one, and go through the whole thing, Because everyone needs shoes All their lives But even after I have shoved this foot into that shoe the ordeal isn't yet over. a shoe needs effort to work right you've got to tie it up to keep it on. So I grab this lace, and I scoop up that lace and I pull like I've seen others do, the grip on my foot gets tighter, But this shoe's not going anywhere either. So I start crisscrossing and looping and more pulling and stretching and soon, I've got a finger or two stuck. Frustrated, I yank them out. and the whole thing unravels. and I've got to start again. But to no avail; with no point Because even when I slow down, I get distracted, Even when I focus, I fail But I spend hours and hours trying to knot these **** laces trying to tie this **** shoe Because everyone wears shoes. They make it look so easy, They make it look so fun, But my foot just wants free. To roam without constraints. But bare-feet aren't the norm, So I'll keep sitting here, Slowly learning to tie my shoe.
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Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
Learning to Tie My Shoe
I grab a shoe a shoe a shoe Because everyone wears shoes Because everyone needs shoes I grab a shoe and I shove my foot straight in Because that's what everyone does Because my foot wasn't good enough as is. Despite, supporting my weight and keeping me afloat. My foot needs more, to be complete. Because all feet get cold, I guess. But this shoe annoys, it suffocates it squishes my toes that just want to wriggle free And I'll have to wear it, as uncomfortable as it is, until I wear it down But soon after that, this one will have given up on me. And I'll just have to get a new one, and go through the whole thing, Because everyone needs shoes All their lives But even after I have shoved this foot into that shoe the ordeal isn't yet over. a shoe needs effort to work right you've got to tie it up to keep it on. So I grab this lace, and I scoop up that lace and I pull like I've seen others do, the grip on my foot gets tighter, But this shoe's not going anywhere either. So I start crisscrossing and looping and more pulling and stretching and soon, I've got a finger or two stuck. Frustrated, I yank them out. and the whole thing unravels. and I've got to start again. But to no avail; with no point Because even when I slow down, I get distracted, Even when I focus, I fail But I spend hours and hours trying to knot these **** laces trying to tie this **** shoe Because everyone wears shoes. They make it look so easy, They make it look so fun, But my foot just wants free. To roam without constraints. But bare-feet aren't the norm, So I'll keep sitting here, Slowly learning to tie my shoe.
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73
Obsessiveness, it angers me; Why does someone have to pick that one person that they won't leave alone that they apparently see no flaws in ? I hate it. He bothers every inch of me: If he walks past me I get a creeping shiver: He stairs at me like I am diner; I tried to be friends but he just doesn't understand; He annoys me when he follows me around; Migraines, he has made them consume me; When he is around my stress level goes from a field of flowers to buried seven feet under! I want to scream and shout and let my stress seep out but all I can do now is sit and pout.
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Obsessive !
A dis abled man doesn't do a good job because they are teasing You see disabled man just bludgers, and if any pretty young Lady starts working to help them, they play with their hair And quite often really annoys them, and it is not just because They are playing with their hair, no they don't know squat About how to get out there and actually work Well, they will work, but in small lots and also They will take days off to go to see parades And then look at all the workers, saying You stupid little ****** little fool You are trying too ****** hard to teach us how to work And you are making us laugh so hard Of course whether he would say that, no one knows Cause he is disabled, he doesn't really know any better He thinks he is being cool with us The best thing to do is have a lot of fun And not get in the bosses way, at any time Especially if the boss yells at them, or gets sick of them Instead of keeping around them like them like a bad smell Like the disabled man usually does, and let me tell you He can display signs of anger and it often interferes with Their work, and after that the disabled man Will crack himself laughing if anybody was getting yelled at by the boss Like he is in primary school, you know the way kids act when You get in trouble with the teacher The disabled man does work, but you know Often they show limitations and also they are too disabled To know why things happen, and I start to think, that The reason why liberals hate disabled people Is they can be angry little ***** When they ****** think they're right The dis abled man will work but they still will act Like a kid, when they are either told to clean up Or go over the job again, because they are trying to tease Yes, dis abled men have no work ethics, still like school atmosphere, and A disabled man doesn't do a good job because they are teasing Sent from my iPhone
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
A TALE ABOUT A DISABLED MAN'S STRESSES
A dis abled man doesn't do a good job because they are teasing You see disabled man just bludgers, and if any pretty young Lady starts working to help them, they play with their hair And quite often really annoys them, and it is not just because They are playing with their hair, no they don't know squat About how to get out there and actually work Well, they will work, but in small lots and also They will take days off to go to see parades And then look at all the workers, saying You stupid little ****** little fool You are trying too ****** hard to teach us how to work And you are making us laugh so hard Of course whether he would say that, no one knows Cause he is disabled, he doesn't really know any better He thinks he is being cool with us The best thing to do is have a lot of fun And not get in the bosses way, at any time Especially if the boss yells at them, or gets sick of them Instead of keeping around them like them like a bad smell Like the disabled man usually does, and let me tell you He can display signs of anger and it often interferes with Their work, and after that the disabled man Will crack himself laughing if anybody was getting yelled at by the boss Like he is in primary school, you know the way kids act when You get in trouble with the teacher The disabled man does work, but you know Often they show limitations and also they are too disabled To know why things happen, and I start to think, that The reason why liberals hate disabled people Is they can be angry little ***** When they ****** think they're right The dis abled man will work but they still will act Like a kid, when they are either told to clean up Or go over the job again, because they are trying to tease Yes, dis abled men have no work ethics, still like school atmosphere, and A disabled man doesn't do a good job because they are teasing Sent from my iPhone
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