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jennifer ann Jan 2015
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise.

"i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a  cigarette in her hand  as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ******." she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
jennifer ann Jan 2015
"i'm watching you, stupid *****." Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs  into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******* excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you.  helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that ****.  and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
jennifer ann Jan 2015
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright *******." Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice.
"who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE ***!!! HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at  pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right."
Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind.
"what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously.
"i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
Dennis Scherle Jan 2014
twelve

         If i could write a letter to my twelve your old self, i would mention the pain your about to face, with self loathing and mental health is far worse then the years before. I would mention how when you wake up wipe the sleep from your eyes and read this letter and find two people you loved gone from your life forever. When you leave your plastic car framed bed you will find an empty room in the basement. The first loss is not death but abandenment leaves no answer to the sting a heart can feel when your older sister meant to guide you has ran away.  She has left, and to what you shall soon find out, left you to your death. The second loss has less thought to the idea of why? but still i did cry. It was my great grandmothers time. Her slow pace death lead to suffering till one week to the day after i turned twelve.  Emotional asking questions why, three days later i tightened my silk tie putting on a suit and ending the night seeing the casket of one of you. To think of you as dead eased my head for a while but still have to replace my frown with a fake smile. After all i lost a sister, when i needed someone to talk you were never there. Instead i just found myself cutting and dyeing my hair.  This is the year you feel your fathers strong hand as you tremble below it. This is the year you tremble in fear this is the first year you want to die

Thirteen

      To my thirteen year old self, im sorry life doesnt get better. im sorry that this is year your parents admit they don't care.  Im sorry this is the year you hear the three words no one wants or deserves to know their pain. Even though the words "I hate you" Were uttered in vain. Im sorry no one was there to hold you in there arms, im sorry of how when looked in the mirror every morniing after you showered  telling yourself its a new day and the pain is past. Im so sorry of how you found out how long the pain really lasts. Look at what you have achieved though, this is the year you win first in all categories invited to Kick Canada to again win. You achieve a bronze as a group, silver in your weopons, and gold in kickboxing. With you feeling weighed down your still weightless, with your amazing place and the smile on your face to look in the croud hearing the aplause. Somethings missing though your parents no where to be seen. Im sorry they wernt there to say good job im sorry your dads hand still strikes strong. This is the year you say enough though, you say no and strike back your foe. He stands stunned for a minute and walks away, the bruises faded away from the surface, but inside i still see them.  It is the night of my birthday i fall asleep praying tomorow will bring a better year.

Fourteen

     Im sorry this is not the year it gets better, your father never lays another hand to your dismay doesnt matter for his and your mothers word fly freely. This is the year they make you cry, only to insult you further "your nothing, your trash" there tounges did lash me. Til  i crashed under hate to my untimly fate, your mother is sick and you walk into the room as she slashes the blade across her wrist, you watch her bleed amd scream for help but she pretends u dont exsist she  spends the next year and eight monthes in psycitric care. Left in a house with nothing fair in the air my invitation ti nationals came and past i did not go in fear of leaving my mother would effect her more vast, past her yelling at ke eberyday i walked in the light blue room with the curtains always closed filled with gloom . While my mother on her last heartstrings looked for strength from her groom . Only to be filled with hate she saw me as a reminder he exsists and how he doesnt visit but i did. I walked the long path every **** day to see my mothers face still i wasnt good enough but that is just my luck. It is my last night of this age. The house is empty amd quite but still remains okay just praying thiis new year brings joy to the now broken boy.

Fifteen

     This is not the year it gets better neither, but this os the year your mother is released. It took a week for the smiles to wear away. Then i saw once again the skin tare from her flesh. Soon hate took over the tone under her breath and malace mixed with spite is the only thing left of my mother i once knew. This is the year you once again face death, you and your mother are in a car driving counting breaths singing along to eminem, reciting robert frost. when suddenly a car passes us and my mother is crossed the mid age lady on her phone swirving around, not paying atention to anyone or anything i still see her frown. She ran a stop sighn without a thought hit by a garbage truck in front of our eyes now i know the cost of when her cellphone conversation stopped. This was the first time i watched someone die. Still shocked  my mother had to call the abulence as i and the garbage man saw the damage in case she still did breath. In the end blood filled the scene as me amd the garbage man covered the front window with a sheet to protect what is left of this womens dignity. This is the year you fond a little blue pill that not only eases your pain if snorted aslo goves you a thrill. This is the first year that you almost sucsessfully kil.l... yourself going to sleep for this living hell praying next year could be better aswell.

Sixteen

     This year is a self medicated blur, this is the year you forgot who you were. T3s replaced with perks and shots only to be soon replaced with oxys in your black box crushed and lined one at a time up your nose the powder glides. The first night you try an 80 you overdose nearly comitoce as you spew a frothy white  fluid from your mouth but my freinds saved me to this day i dnt know how called said i passed out and cant drive home so my parents could never figure out how i lay on the tiled floor back from death after this a pill is never again accepted that is your debt 2 days to your birthday that cursid day your sober but that was just babby steps and i promise little soilder babby steps you would not regret.

Seventeen

      This is the year you stopped praying for help thinking you did this to yourself i promise it wasnt you. How could it be your still just in youth. This is the year you watch your father fall. You find the trail of debt 100 thousand dollars owed mine aswell of been a million for we can barely live so how would you like us to pay it back i finfd him stealing money from my backpack. This is the year you find out your dad is the same worth of a rat and you dont have to take his crap. This is the year he snaps and instead you help him back up. He was in achoma five days as you stayed never slept jus sat beside his hospital bed praying this did not mean death. Death came in a different way with your cousin brit stabbed to death by her husband on febuary fith.. this is the year you wished you diddnt exsist.

Eighteen

     This is the year.... you found the courage to see you will always be...good and thats enough for me.
daniel f Aug 2013
On those drawn out summer evenings, all manner of characters would fill the coffee shops and spill outside. An interesting cross section of society would be provided for anyone willing to sit and watch, for an hour or two atleast. This particular evening will always stand out for me as representative of those carefree folly filled evenings. I was sat alone, with a copy of the evening news and an espresso across the street from a boisterous coffee shop which remained opened deep into the evening, long after others were closed. I often sat and watched people in those early few months, Id decided against socialising with colleagues. I would go to great lengths to prearranged fictitious plans and engagements in order so that I could sit alone each evening, pleasing myself. It's always far easier to enjoy food alone, without any distractions. After considering my options I settled for a steak, and a glass of wine. The waiter seemingly unconcerned failed to take note as I gave my order, with a shrug of his head he returned to the kitchen inside to place the order. The cafe I watched was perched almost perfectly across the street from the train station. As commuters and young couples in love poured out of the station, and onto the bright expanse which was the street before them. The popularity of this particular cafe is hard to convey correctly, it's frantic nature remained even on the bleakest of midwinter evenings. Now though months of bread and water were long gone, as seasonal waiters hurried arms filled will all manner of snacks and drinks.  All manner of agricultural workers would congregate in early march, eager to snap up work in the best hotels and cafes thus ensuring a healthy wage and generous tips. The waiters from the mountains always stood out. It was as if they retained the innocence of there previous surroundings, smiling all coy when taking orders from female customers. They retained the physical attributes of the mountains which they had left, towering above others and maintaining a mystique which often meant they would return in November with wives and child aswell.




By now it was half past eight atleast, and I had finished my steak and wine. The traffic was in the process of slowing down, although it was not uncommon here for traffic jams to form at any hour of the evening. Car horns echoed and ricocheted off old architecture which gave an impression of immense movement all around.  The owner was a beast of a man standing six foot high atleast, with a beard which gave away his rugged beginnings. It was impossible to estimate his origin correctly, Id always imagined he was from somewhere in Northern Europe although by now I had learnt that assumptions were the preserve of fools. He could most often be found pacing up and down the pavement adjacent to his cafe, smoking his camel blue cigarettes and staring deep into the night sky. As if preoccupied with some great moral dilemma this could go on for hours of end, without him breathing a word to anyone.  Under a great mane of curly brown hair, lay the most enthralling blue eyes imaginable. They had a softness which would not seem out of place upon the face of some Parisian muse. Although I must confess when first confronted with this gentleman an his almost childlike appearance, I was adamant I had him figured. He seemed the kind of man who blundered through life, although successful still seemed to be scraping an unenviable existence for himself.

By now I had stuck around long enough to get some feel for the pitter patter of life in just such a place. The transient nature of the customers ensured a bravado unseen in any old small town watering hole, women driven wild by spontaneous desire stared sultry at the mysterious visitors.
A crew of sailors who had no doubt been granted shore leave, and were soaking up the atmosphere just across the road from me. They could have been from any South American nation, or Spain. It really was impossible to tell from my distance, a few had clearly cultivated moustaches whilst at sea. It was common for sea faring people's to grow ****** hair in such a manner. Almost as if by magic, a story told by someone without a beard holds subtle undertones of irrelevance. I had learned this over the many months I had spent smoking and talking to locals, and travellers alike. I must confess I had fallen hook line and sinker, I was currently locked in the process of cursing my genetics and dreaming of a more rugged appeal.

By now the black coffees had petered out, and had been replaced by glasses and in some cases bottles of what I can only assume was Spanish red wine. The noise had steadily increased as the drinks flowed, and the crowd of sailors had gradually grown more and more boisterous in there escapades . A few feet away the manager stared intently at the revellers, as if the warn them without words of being too careless in a foreign city. The ever present owner done very little to deter the actions of the pack, who's numbers by now had been swelled from another dozen or so sailors who happened to be walking in the right direction.  The sailors leered shamelessly at the local women, whilst the more forward of them made there own advances. Still the manager stood smoking and staring as if to catch the sight of one of them. Now to the wary eyes of a man returned from a long voyage this would seem like a place, where desire became a priority above all else. This would be an entirely accurate assumption although, if the surface was scratched significantly an underbelly of immorality could be found. For the sailors though, whom were just passing through unlikely to ever return this mattered very little. There only concern was draining themselves on some unsuspecting women, or if so required a *******.

It's hard to say exactly how the altercation was initiated, although I suspect the cat calls of a few sailors had pushed one local over the edge. Whilst the promise of conflict ensured a crowd would gather the bar owner remained just away from the ruckus as if picking his moment. The sailors numbered in 20 or so, and fuelled by red wine and continental beer seemed more than willing to put up a fight. A waiter who had tried to act as mediator between the parties had given up, and left for the roadside and had lit up a cigarette. For a few minutes atleast it looked as though the scuffle would be forgotten and laughed about over eggs at breakfast. There was a barrage of shouting and pulling as the locals slowly lost their temper. By now many people had stopped to stare at the spectacle, this is where I must confess things got really strange. As I have previously stated I have no real idea what brought all of this on, that is to say I have no idea what set the process in motion. It was a well known fact that in times of violence the locals would protect each other with a ferocity and loyalty which could see the most able bodied men come unstuck. I had ordered myself a cream cake, and was skimming through the news from London when I heard a blood chilling yell. I spied the previously placid manager leaving the door which lead to his apartment above the cafe. With the confidence of a man without obligation he sauntered toward the group of sailors. I did not see the knife, I must confess I assumed this old man would take quite a beating at the hands of these sailors. Oh I was wrong, a young sailor fell to the ground silent, as his green shirt went claret with blood. In disbelief his comrades stood around, unsure exactly what to do. The crowd assembled gasped as if to share collective disbelief, the manager had managed to slip off somewhere without provoking any attention. Over the next twenty five minutes an ambulance arrived although I feel even the paramedics knew that this was more an exercise in keeping up appearances than saving any lives. They surely knew that there was very little they could do for this poor boy away from home. Police officers milled around, It was safe to say the bar owner would never be brought to anything like justice for this although, the general consensus was that anyone who got stabbed more than likely deserved it in someway or another. As for the manager  he had long been bundled into the back of some old pre war car and taken far beyond the cries and disdain of world weary sailors. No doubt to reappear a week or so later.
my ipad was running out of battery so I had to wrap it up
(Yes I am acutely aware of how terrible that makes me sound)
The Sun begins to rise as I lay here in bed,
Listening as these questions repeat in my head.
I know I should be sleeping
But I choose to listen instead.
Searching for an answer, but most are left unsaid.

Another sleepless night, as a new day begins.
These nights are becoming dreadful, as the days begin to blend.
If only I had answers, these questions would finally end.
But my thoughts are in tangles and my mind begins to bend.

Days become a struggle just to do the best I can.
I know I need your help, im reaching for your hand.
I heard that you were with me, even when I chose to sin.
If so, dear lord I ask,  rid my life of these troubles, lift me up again.

{ I know the sky's overhead are turning black now.
You can't walk anymore, you put your head down.
Kneeling in the mud as the rain falls all around.
With tired eyes, you look to the heavens for a way out. }

" Dear Lord I'm calling out your name!
I'm on my knees in the pouring rain!
Please lift me up, wash my sins away!
I cant hold the hand of the man I was
yesterday! ”

I thought I was dreaming when I saw the bright light.
Two hands lowering down upon me from somewhere in the sky
I watched in disbelief,  startled  by such a sight
As these great hands began to open, lifting me up high.

I feel your presence surround me.
Your hands lift me up with warmth all around me,
A sense of peace flows deep
within me, so gracefully.
As I'm carried away, I drift off to sleep.…

" Fear not my son as you open your eyes. "

A voice echoed within me so deep,
waking me in fright,
I blink a few times to clear the haze from my eyes.
I realize I’m on my knees in a room of pure white.

I was clean and dry, kneeling before an alter, no more than seven steps high.
Each step trimmed in gold,
Each step draped with light.

I notice a candle burning on the floor just a few feet away.
Its flame did not flutter, It burned with pure grace but this candle was giving  off a light of its own aswell, separate from its flame.

It looked red in color,
With a flame that was burning white.
It sat in a golden holder,
Etched clearly and beautifully, with my name on each side.

Astonished and thinking this had to be a dream,
A puddle of wax began to form on the floor underneath,
And In this puddle, I began to see.
Memories of my life playing
In the melted scenery .

After several minutes of silence, I looked up in fear..
And was shocked to see Jesus, the son of God standing above me in tears.

I asked him...

" Dear Lord, why cry over me?
I have spent life in sin as I saw in these scenes."

With eyes filled with sadness he looked down on me and in a deep, trembling voice he suddenly began to speak,

“ I love you my son and there is good in your heart. You asked for my help tonight because you were falling apart. It saddens me to watch as you live your life this way. If only you would call upon me more often, you would see better days. “

Suddenly with a jolt, I awoke in my bed.
Apparently it had been a dream,
I wasn't standing before the Lord and I wasn't dead.
I sat up and began to remember, as I wiped the sweat from my head .  
My heart was still pounding and my face was flushed red.

While thinking of the dream, I noticed a difference about this day.
I woke  up with no worries, no troubles or pain.
Realizing this was a blessing, a second  chance to change.
I hit my knees and with all my heart, I desperately began to pray.

"Dear lord, I thank you for your blood, your care and your tears. I see the importance of life now, my eyes are finally clear. I pray that you join me, right here by my side. I know my past was filled with regret, but back then I was blind. With your help, Dear Lord, I can make a new life. Together we can walk the path that leads  to your light. "


- Brandon K. Stephenson
A more detailed ...more intimate discription of an older poem of mine "The Path To The Light"
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CD Oct 2014
Darling, Dear Darling; What if I was to tell you?

What if I was to tell you nobody's really real; Not the Barber, Not the postman, Just you and me, Floating in space on the spinning rock called earth. And if I was to tell you, Darling, that they were all inside our minds, Would you take my side and face it all, just us?

Darling, Dear darling, what if I was to tell you that the animals are none aswell; Flicker in, flicker out, they're fading away, The image is weakening. Darling, I fear soon it will just be me and you, trapped in our minds, side by side, floating in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.

Darling, dear darling, What If I was to tell you that the trees are dimming too? We're losing them, the pines, the oak, the cedar; They were never real either. All inside our minds... But it's okay now, it's alright little darling; We'll face the world hand in hand, floating in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.

Darling, last night, when I looked upon your shadow, It flickered unsuspectingly.
Now, darling, dear darling, Isn't that absurd?

Darling.
Dear, dear darling.

Now, what If I was to tell you that you've lied to me along? What If I now said that you were a part of it all, aswell?
What If I pronounced that perhaps it's just been me, Floating all alone on in Space on a spinning rock called Earth.
Dear, you're flickering out. You're fading. You're leaving, to somewhere; to the place where the things that don't exist go.

Take me with you, darling.
Let me escape my mind.
Shower Thoughts.
Jesibell arz Mar 2015
123...
I hug you then you hug me
we go our separate ways like the red sea.

123...
You call my phone already feeling alone, I send you to voicemail leave a message at the tone.

123...
Theirs tears on my pillows aswell as my sheets, just wishing if oneday again we can meet.

123...
A few months go by I hear a knock on my door, wondering if it's you coming back for more.

123...
I'm taken by surprise, it's you standing infront of me wiping the tears from my eyes.

123...
I can't live without you and you can't live without me, this is our 123 game of uncertainty.


                                  *I Love You Tho
veronica Aug 2016
He bought her a daffodil from the 7th street
walking downtown rushing to get home
the front porch was filled with the smell of smoked meat

He put the freshly bought flower on the side
where the other kinds sat still and look nice
they prepared the table and sat aswell
dinner at front yard was their shenanigan

Little did they know; the daffodil notices them
a happy couple without any problem
the flower grew while they took care of it
with love and attention like it's a kid

Few years has gone by
the couple often held serious fights
their front yard looked dull and dry
the daffodil felt sad but kept on blooming bright

She left him and flew away
He stayed with the daffodil and water them everyday
but one day he left; just like the girl he loved left home
the daffodil felt lonely, but kept on growing as it stand alone
Luisa bernabó Oct 2013
I stand alone
No shelter just a tree
And i can feel the raindrops fall to my face
Or are those tears?

I can hear the raindrops
Patter down on the hard insensetive ground
The sound creates a pattern in my mind
That melanchonic pattern that makes me think of you.

Where are you now?
Is it raining on you aswell?
Do you care too?
Or are you somewhere where the sun is shining?
Jade Lee Mar 2014
And it felt more like death
falling in love with you
you made me feel happy
but aswell
miserable
Simao Mendes Jun 2014
I wish I could draw really well

I could show you everything I can't express or tell

I could show you everything on my heart aswell
Ston Poet Dec 2015
Uhh,Yeah.. I know times getting harder, but you just gotta get stronger, & keep moving on tho dawg, no matter what a hater gotta say **** em forget em..I said no matter what a hater say (**** em,forget em2)..Uhh..no matter what a hatter gotta say fucc em, forget em, no matter what a hater say (fucc em, forget em2)..Let em talk, let em hate man, They just mad at themselves, **** a hater, forget em, **** a hater Yeah forget em, **** a hater Yeah just forget em, **** a hater Yeah forget em..
I said **** a hater, Yeah just (forget em2)..They not happy with themselves, they hating for nothing man, ****, & I ain't got nothing but love to give away man, so Imma let em hate Yeah (**** em, forget em2)..Yeah , they just mad at themselves,.. They mad at (themselves2)..Aye..(they mad at they selve2)..Yeah just let em be  mad at them selve.s. Man, **** a hater , Yeah just forget em, **** a hater man, just forget em..**** em forget em..Aye

**** a hater, let em hate dawg, we don't stunt em, we don't worry about them losers noo, we just get our cake dawg, my ***** we rolling haze up, they won't make my blood pressure go up, no more worrying & stressing over a hater, ****, Yeah problems do still come my way, dude trials & tribulations, but I'm keeping my head up to the sky man, **** the drama, Uhh,..I don't wanna hear all of dat loud mouthing, shouting Shawty, I just wanna smell that loud (Yeah2)..we stay burning, we puffing 24/7 ***** non stop, our lungs don't clock out,
Uhh, aye They like to talk behind my back how I ain't ****, **** a hater, I just (forget em
2)..I ain't nothing like the past, I'm the future man, I'm way ahead of my time like hovering whips, Aye throw me the pass, Imma catch it of course man, I win the game for the team *****, real spit, Imma young legend, I'm very legit, **** the laws man, I'm playing the industry, & I ain't quitting ever , no man, **** a hater, forget em, let em talk they ****, I do my money dance on them *******, Yeah, Aye, Yeah, Uhh..

Young Ston the man, I keep going in daily, Yeah feet don't fail me now, my ***** I'm on a mission, **** a hater, let them ****** hate man, let them be mad (by themselves2)..They not happy wit (theirselves2)..I'm traveling on this route to wealth, I'm on this route to helping my ****** out that need help aswell, my ***** if you down for the cause then travel along wit me then dawg,No Wizard of Oz type of **** tho, **** that witchcraft magic **** dawg, forget the Devil, I ain't doing nothing enchanted,I'm changing the world.. While I'm chanting in these raps homie..

I'm very passionate about this ****, no hater won't get in my way & if they do that's their last day living, Yeah mane..Don't try me, I'm so blessed Yeah..God giving me so much favor, I'm not gonna be selfish, Imma share it, This song is for the people who spirit been down & need some uplifting.. **** a hater, forget em..Aye
I'm here for you man, I gotchu , we gone be okay, Satan won't stop us, Yeah I'm stumbling through these roadblocks, but I'm still in drive tho dawg, This is inspirational music, I'm inspiring the next generation future leaders, **** a hater just forget em..Aye

When I was younger it shoulda been more rappers like me, but its okay I dun stepped up to the plate, & Imma knock the ball outta the park..home run mane..**** a hater forget em..Aye..
I was so needy, I wanted my own ****, so I started writing raps, hoping that people will need me, I'm tryna save souls homie.. Aye for real mane..**** a hater, forget em..Uhh, Yeah
A young  ***** want a lil mama I can call my own, but **** I ain't that type of ***** that beg for some ***** , I don't wait for no *****, my ***** I handle my business like a grown *** men should (Yeah2)..
I got my fam, OFTR man, they all riding to the end, no to death do us part, we live forever, eternity, **** a hater, forget em, let them hate man, let them ******* hate, go get yo cheddar,

That's my motto,(**** a hater forget em.
3)..Aye ***** thats what I been bout man, always, I'm up in the morning rolling no mollies, & I won't go to sleep till the next morning, I'm on my hustle, I hustle so heavy mane, I get it outta the mud, like Kevin Gates,**** Life my ***** I never been a nerd, but they still picked on me when I was in school..mane, my parents could never afford the expensive brands, Aye but **** a hater Yeah just forget em.., they just mad at themselves, they need to smoke more **** like me, man, Uhh, yo I was such a bad *** kid , a class clown Yeah ,cussing in class & jumping on the classroom tables man, acting a ***, ****..

I'm still that same hyper dude now, but I'm more maturer Yeah,Uhh..my ***** this is spiritual food, I won't fool ya, **** a hater forget em, let em hate man..(Uhh, Yeah3)...

/(**** a hater let em hate man
2)..go & get yo cake Yeah/2


Stay praying stay,stay baking, **** a hater, let em hate man, **** a hater, let em hate Yeah, **** a hater, ***** forget em , Uhh, Young Ston OFTR (Yeah *****
3)..Yeah
stonpoet.tumblr.com
liza Nov 2013
"I've got to go inside, its smoldering out here"

and you looked at me as if it were an obvious invitation to come
almost looking confused as to why I would even hesitate

we walked inside and went to the back room.
there were a circle of people there; the kind I would expect you to fall into naturally
on account of your beauty and wit.

but you walked past them and sat in a corner, with enough room for me to sit between you and the wall.
with less hesitation now, I sat

your legs were laying out straight facing me and your back against the wall
my legs were laying out straight facing you, and I was leaning on my elbows

you initiated conversation because you're eloquent on the spot
I listened mostly because i'm not

I noticed a while through how well we were together. just talking to one another.

eventually, it got quiet and you pushed your back from the wall to lie flat on the floor
I put my elbows down and did the same.
as you scooted closer, our hips touched

"aren't you glad we're connected now"
i smiled

*I've got no clue what you meant by that
But I know that I was ecstatic to lie there with my hip touching yours
anastasiad Jun 2016
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Not all single people are sad,
And not all taken people are happy.
Life in general is what you make it
It doesn't matter how others see it,
If you're happy in your state;that's great,its your life afterall.
Crazy how to some ears single rings misery,
Meanwhile to others it rings yeppy!joy!
We view life differently,
We might aswell just respect all views anyways.
Tonight we're having a big feast
in the great city of sin
I'm about to unleash the beast
Let this party for players begin

The soft, green cloth beneath my fingers
The shiny deck of cards
The joy when the dealer bust still lingers
Wont you please send my regards

The tingling inside when the Ace says hello
The kick when the King joins in
The Queen is also welcome to the show
And the Jack can bring his twin

Race doesn't matter at this gathering
Both blacks and reds look swell
When diamonds and spades are scattering
You can invite hearts and clubs aswell

The bets are getting higher and higher
My wallet is getting thin
I hardly ever get what I desire
Cause the house will always win

At first I thought I had control
But suddenly I was unstable
I had lost my entire bank roll
At the end of the Black Jack table
Shannon Jeffery Jan 2015
Ok so I wanted to find a way to learn more about felloe poets here on HP. But I know not everyone likes to write long detailed information so.... I'd like you to write a 10(I will accept up to 20 but prefer 10) word poem describing yourself with one of these 4 elements Earth, Air, Fire and Water.

If you would like it to be easily found please use the tag #elementchallenge

I will write one aswell :) lets see those creative minds in action
Tijana Jul 2018
I dont want to know if your mother slapped you when you were a child, or your daddys love was very mild. There is NO excuse for abuse. And the fact you're hurting someone, molesting someone, torturing someone  can never be disaproven or made "alright"  just because you had a  "rough"  childhood. Guess what, I did aswell, people that read this did aswell, milions of people did aswell, yet they dont go about strangeling cats or murdering inocent dogs.They dont go about hitting women, molesting them, draining them emotionaly, or even worse ****** them.When will we learn the error of our ways, How can we be so dismayed by these beings that arent even human, but monsters, pure brutal, filthy animals, that if you ask me, have no right to live...
Not a poem, just something I need to get out of my system, because Im sick and tired of these abusers that think can get away with anything they want.
anastasiad Dec 2015
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Madeline Rose Oct 2013
I wake at sunrise
And watch the world around me wake aswell
The frosted tree tops remind me of the cold winter to come
The colorful leaves half fallen into the front yard
Reminding me to take in Autumn while I can
Because soon the snow that is falling will stick
Soon the remaining leaves in the trees will fall too
The cloudy skies with a bright pink background remind me that soon there will be no sun detected as the grey clouds will cover my little town for 4 months
The pesty mosquitos from humid summer nights have all died out
Beaches are closed for the winter
And those **** frosty tree tops reminding me of a long cold winter to come
In the beginning the new change will be blissful
But like everything else after time
It gets old
She
Her breath catches. she turns over. it doesn't matter, no matter what she does, she won't sleep. that itch is there.
she lies on the flat of her back, staring at the colours swirling on the ceiling with the shadows dancing with them. she starts thinking about him again. the way his hair curls at the end, the way it moves when the wind blows around, the way his face scrunches up in amusement, the way he holds himself, how he leans in when he speaks, his lips, his face, his eyes...she lets her mind wander...aswell as her hand...
her breath catches again, but for an entirely different reason.
setting a steady pace she drives herself insane, physically with resistance and mentally with reminders of who she can't have.
two years gone and she still can't stop. she loves him. everything about him, the air around him, even. she adores him and it's killing her.
her legs widen to accomadate her rising arousal, a low moan grows in the back of her throat, pushing her forward making her desire vocal, unlike the love that has crushed her heart over and over, again and again, she can't stand it anymore.
her speed increases and she breaks a sweat. she's crying now, thinking about the rehashed fantasy she built in her brain. how she'd loose herself to him, give him eveything, let him take her to places shes never been before. She cries because she knows it'll never be so, all she'll have is her own little bed and her own hand for company, no strong arms to hold her as she falls asleep, no sweet lips to kiss goodnight, no growing passion pushing into her ever so warmly.
suddenly she bucks, screams out in pain and passion, and curls in a ball to live through the aftershocks and the screaming agony her heart holds, she pretends he's holding her and slowly falls asleep.
S Apr 2014
i want to achieve something
i want to make something of myself but i don't want that to happen by me cutting myself off from my distractions
i want to achieve with self discipline by my side the entire time
why is self discipline so hard? or should i say why is it so hard for me?
i keep myself awake till the early hours of the morning because i can't sleep with all these regrets of what I've not achieved taunting me
so i'll feel bad about myself every night and promise and tell myself things that i will definitely do to change and achieve but that never puts my mind at ease because i never do it or i never stick to it
i stick to these bad habits like superglue but i can't seem to form the habits that i crave
constantly circulating around my head will be saying's like : 'those who do,get' or 'wake up feeling determined and go to sleep satisfied'
every day i ask myself how do i stick to self discipline
the worst thing is i know that no one else can do things for me and they need to be done so i have to do it aswell as wanting to do it
but why can't i just do it
this sounds very irrational and overly dramatic but it's so frustrating to discipline yourself i can't describe it or put it in to words easily
i guess i'll just have to **** it up and get on with things otherwise i'll never move forwards because backwards is never an option even though that's all i seem to be doing at the moment
everything is like a chore to me these days and writing as an outlet seems to be helping but it's not really so much writing that i'm doing it's more like an impulsive 'splurge' of feelings? emotions? thoughts? i'm not sure
everything just seems to be pouring out of me at a rate that i will never be able to handle and i just want things to change desperately.
everyday to me is a waste currently as that's what i'm doing i'm just wasting my days away
every day is an opportunity that i'm not seizing which makes me want to grab myself by the shoulders and shake me forcing me to give a rational explanation as to why i'm wasting every day away.
hopefully what I've just written has gotten rid of all my frustration and might actually help me overcome this  
i hate blowing things out of proportion and creating problems but this is just a massive part of my life and if i don't take action the regret i will feel will be enough to destroy me
i can't help but feel that everything is slipping out of my control and i'm at fault
i am the main character in my story and i choose what happens.
i felt like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders after this
Tonight we're having a big feast
in the great city of sin
I'm about to unleash the beast
Let this party for players begin

The soft, green cloth beneath my fingers
The shiny deck of cards
The joy when the dealer bust still lingers
Wont you please send my regards

The tingling inside when the Ace says hello
The kick when the King joins in
The Queen is also welcome to the show
And the Jack can bring his twin

Race doesn't matter at this gathering
Both blacks and reds look swell
When diamonds and spades are scattering
You can invite hearts and clubs aswell

The bets are getting higher and higher
My wallet is getting thin
I hardly ever get what I desire
Cause the house will always win

At first I thought I had control
But suddenly I was unstable
I had lost my entire bank roll
At the end of the Black Jack table
I've recently kicked an 8 year long gambling addiction in the ***. Boom!
AJ Robertson Feb 2013
It had been 2 weeks
She assumed the kids were asleep
Because he entered
He must of thought seductively
(making sure to shower first)
with an air of cool calmness
a scent of beer with a new thirst
for another type of refreshment
not fulfillment
but refilling

not romance
mere maintenance

she sighed & looked up
    through her glasses at his swollen frame
like a balloons tied to a clothes horse,
    left there for a day
so they sagged and lost their colour
    & the frame had become visible
  but only at its peaks
through the sheer power of gravity
his bones became seen
  through his collar of his van huesen shirt
he thought so debonair (had a classy air, sleekish air)

she smiled acceptingly
as he pretended to be sincere
  when he told her that he loved her
    even after all these years
  she was still a **** momma
she tried not to laugh
when he kissed her on the neck
& rubbed
her breast like he wanted milk

she spread her legs
when he pushed them
  & waited for the steering
of a trailer into a garage
in reverse
at midnight
  under influence
with the subtlety of a steer

it reminded her of years ago
when she had laughed at the austere
teachers that had enraged her
with their frigid sneer

& she smiled to herself an thought
of her *** like a rare fruit
only to age and watch it be eaten
by a once charming now savage brute

who turned into a blob of sorts
& she aswell had sagged
at least they sagged happily together
there's some comfort to be had in that
so she waited for the ******
with an image impressed in her
   of a smirking withered teacher
arms folded & a smug grin
with a look that proclaims
     ‘here u are
     it seems we’re on a par
     an existence so far
  from what u saw in dreams u had
  of supple limbs & knowing grins
  to dry skins and droopy things'

a flower wilted & smelling a bit funny
the faded colour of pale brown

in the end she felt lie a jug of sorts
he rolled over & went to sleep
she eventually did also
thinking about wat to cook next week
anastasiad Jun 2016
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Rupert Pip Dec 2021
and for the record,
no one thinks they're pretty
when they rain

so cry your ****** heart out,
and snort around the trough
whilst you’re covered
in mud.

Just let it all remind you
why this poem is
absolutely pointless.

And so are you,
and so am I,
and so is your dog
you love so much.

Because all we know
is the point in which
you start breathing,

and that eventually
you’re going to stop too,

so do something decent
with the middle
won’t you?

may aswell x
Life is a tax-man, indeed.
anastasiad May 2016
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Authenticity
is so overlooked
Honesty aswell
but people wouldn't notice them
even if they fell
right in their arms.

People chase a stupid fantasy
dive into a virtual world
and drown in imaginary expectations
I hope your bubble pops
life is here in front of you
I've been there too
I understand, but it's no excuse.

No one is perfect
no one really has tact
sense, perception
Or any idea how to deal with life
It's all an act.
It's all an act.

the words you said to me are engraved on my arms
carved the words
into my skin
your judgement is my cold, sweet breakfast.
anastasiad Mar 2017
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Em MacKenzie Jul 2021
Lying in your arms,
the light bouncing off your skin.
Pressing snooze on all my alarms,
Baby, we should be sleeping in.
Only you can gift the sun
and together we bask in the rain.
You’re naturally my only one,
you effortlessly exist and heal all my pain.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
‘cause it’s such a messy place,
I don’t want you ever to be confined.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Sail my fingertips up, down, around, out and in,
and on your gentle curves I’ll follow the map I drew.

You’ve got the eyes of the stars,
and your lips; as crucial as the air.
Combined warmth of the Sun and Mars,
and a heart of gold, but more valuable and more rare.
Only you can make a void gleam,
I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.
Darling, you’ve always been my dream,
and God, did my dream come true.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind,
to memorize each feature of your face,
a more beautiful sight you’ll never find.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you,
and when I finish, again I’ll begin,
‘cause each and every time it still feels new.

Her sparkling shooting star eyes
stripped and read down to my soul,
I wonder how did she find a prize,
in what once felt like an engulfing hole?
Our thoughts meet eachother
and dance up in that invisible air.
Just us two, never another,
and I am already waiting there.

I wish to free up more space
for you; forever in my mind.
Any other thought feels like a waste,
another view and I might aswell be blind.
I want to write calligraphy on your skin,
illustrate every word I want to write for you.
Trail my fingertips to trace, caress, drag and spin,
deciphering each inch, fibre and clue.
Let Zidler keep his fairy tale ending.
Hanny Geraldine Jul 2015
I'd rather be kissed on my lips
than on my forehead
When you kiss my lips,
you only kiss the physical part of me
But if you kiss my forehead,
you kiss my soul aswell
and it's kind of addictive

But uh-oh
You kissed my forehead more than once
Now, *how can I forget you?
gray rain Jul 2016
We've got to the point where people are accepting peoples differences.
However, are yet to get to the stage where those who accept will support aswell.

— The End —