"biologist" poems
I have bruises like amethyst
But the truth is I’m the catalyst
When I see colours of bismuth
I know you mean business
Bruises like amethyst
But you say you’re a pacifist
An analyst an activist
But you held my mind so it contorts, distorts
And aborts so it can’t resonate or fabricate
Or rationalise a world inside
That doesn't exist and insists
That I can’t be kissed and won’t be missed
I've got a black heart like tourmaline
But I'm the alkaline to your acid time
Trust me I am fine, I'm a pale blue
Crystalline Structural perfection
Don’t need your affection or your ways
Of objections did my bra strap give you an
Erection?
You could say I'm a feminist
But I'm more of a scientist
Busting body myths like biologist
You say ‘but **** are ****** organs’
Listen you morons, all ******* are a erogenous zone
Regardless of gender , boys nips literally have no purpose
Except when they get nervous for getting a little lip service
Trust me I'm fine, I'm a pale white crystalline
Structural perfection I don’t need your objection
Not a gem stone for your collar bone I don’t give a **** about
Your muscle tone, I'm a cyclone all alone I could spend a
1,000 years on my own.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an
article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj
PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE !
Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever
remained a mystery!
There are no permanent equations to resolve,
Love's unseen wave like force!
It travels through three dimensional space,
At frequencies higher than electromagnetic
waves!
It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed,
or clime,
Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine!
It generates a magnetic force field, making
two hearts in unison beat!
Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called
(PEA) Phenylethylamine, -
Triggers loves molecules in the human mind!
Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say,
And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day!
The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to
glow and feel fine,
When they live on love and fresh air and may
even forget to dine!
While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our
adrenaline production,
Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous
motion!
But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical', requires
constant contact for its effects to prevail!
Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail,
Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail!
Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation,
Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic
potion!
But such feelings remain for a limited duration,
Varying with people with different emotions!
In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, -
And they frequently require a PEA fix!
But those who stick to a single mate,
Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content!
And finally when infatuation gradually subsides,
Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes,
When calmness and stability with loving bond
prevails!
This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive,
And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, -
which are rather seductive!
(All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
SpongeBob SquarePants is an American animated television series created by marine biologist and animator Stephen Hillenburg for Nickelodeon. The series chronicles the adventures and endeavors of the title character and his various friends in the fictional underwater city of Bikini Bottom. The series' popularity has made it a media franchise, as well as Nickelodeon network's highest rated show, and the most distributed property of MTV Networks. The media franchise has generated $8 billion in merchandising revenue for Nickelodeon.
Many of the ideas for the series originated in an unpublished, educational comic book titled The Intertidal Zone, which Hillenburg created in the mid-1980s. He began developing SpongeBob SquarePants into a television series in 1996 upon the cancellation of Rocko's Modern Life, and turned to Tom Kenny, who had worked with him on that series, to voice the titular character. SpongeBob was originally to be named SpongeBoy, and the series was to be called SpongeBoy Ahoy!, but these were changed, as the name was already trademarked.
The series was previewed on Nickelodeon in the United States on May 1, 1999, following the television airing of the 1999 Kids' Choice Awards, and officially premiered on July 17, 1999. It has received worldwide critical acclaim since its premiere and gained enormous popularity by its second season. The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie, a feature-length film adaptation, was released in theaters on November 19, 2004, and a sequel is currently in production, with a projected release date of February 13, 2015. On July 21, 2012, the series was renewed and aired its ninth season, beginning with the episode "Extreme Spots".[2][3]
Despite its widespread popularity, the series has been involved in several public controversies, including one centered around speculation over SpongeBob SquarePants' intended ****** orientation. The series has been nominated for a variety of different awards, including 17 Annie Awards (with six wins), 17 Golden Reel Awards (with eight wins), 15 Emmy Awards (with one win), 13 Kids' Choice Awards (with 12 wins), and four BAFTA Children's Awards (with two wins). In 2011, a newly described species of mushroom, Spongiforma squarepantsii, was named after the cartoon's title character.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
Do not bother me with your absurd theories;
Reason, logic, and evidence have no place
In the heart of the true and righteous believer.
Faith in holy texts should be your guide,
Your faith should be blind, unadulterated, and quintessential, or
Risk a dreadful and eternal damnation.
If Einstein knew so much
Why do they call his premise the “Theory of Relativity”?
If Darwin was so sharp, why is it the most
He could up with was the “Theory of Evolution”?
The answer is simple, they really had no clue,
They simply did some scientific research and, in the end,
They came up with nothing more than theories.
And, what about all those archeologists
Claiming the earth is billions of years old, or
Cosmologists with their “Big Bang Theory.”
Everything is nothing more than
Theories, theories, theories.
Turn your back on these absurdities;
Trust, instead, the ancient, sacred texts
That offer immutable, unquestionable truths.
How ludicrous the idea that
The world is more than 10,000 years old,
(Carbon dating of fossil rocks is just mambo-jumbo)
The universe and all creation
Were made in six days,
God, tiring after all that work,
(Wouldn't you after working 24/6?)
Rested on the seventh day.
It's there in black and white,
For everyone to see.
(Assuming you've read the right version)
Men were created from a clod of clay,
(Or mud, but you get the point)
Women from the rib of man
(Which is why they should be subservient to men).
What nonsense from biologist and paleontologist
That claim we evolved from micro-organisms and apes,
This notion is total sacrilege, a blasphemy.
Life is too complicated, too complex to just evolve,
Intelligent Design is the only answer,
All the talk to the contrary is nonsensical hyperbole.
God made everything happen.
Read the holy texts, the truth is as obvious,
As plain as the tip of your nose.
Everyone knows that all the anthropological data,
All the purported archeological digs,
With reports of dinosaurs and missing links,
Are fabricated to fit nerd scientists' preconceived notions of
What they would like everyone to believe.
When in doubt, refer to the holy texts,
You will see all the unsubstantiated, ludicrous claims
For what they really are:
Trash, trash, and more trash.
Do not bother me with your facts, or
Your scientific data or findings;
In the end, everything boils down to more idiotic theories.
Have unquestioning, blinding, and total faith,
Read the holy texts and they will set you free.
So, the next time someone questions your beliefs,
Claiming there is no merit or facts to support them,
Remind them that to question the word of God
Will send them, along with their theories,
Straight to hell.
Amen!
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 6:19 PM UTC
It lies, turgid.
Beneath the seedy mass of microscopy
lit fluorescent, breathing.
Bloated cellulose bricks in syrup
Conjunctive in an extracellular mess,
Ripped mesh and tiny sculpturettes
Freshly bleeding.
Chloroplastic green and iron red
slivers of nucleic endoscopy
A secret glimpse framed by my eyelashes.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
It was time for love that never shone
A southern wind so coldly blown
In lies of madness I walked by night
So frail and jaded these ropes of life
I gave in to my whispering voice
A deed so forbidden, so staggeringly moist
By lust of madness, insanity ruled
In guilt and shame an act so lewd
How such a feeling could bewitch my soul
No biologist or mindologist could ever know
Love is such a fine line and I crossed her there
Alone in the madness of eternal despair
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
i found a birthmark shaped like Alaska
on the inside of your kneecap,
and i only saw it the day you
let me cross the border;
it was sensitive to my touch,
the moon-like ripples leading
to the needles on the pine tree
in your back yard.
sometimes i can read behind the
lines of DNA makeup,
like the lonely biologist you seem to be,
but your lingo is foreign to me,
tattered words and language deficiencies,
i can hardly follow along the braille
carved onto your outer layer,
the marble you worked so hard to
weather on your own time.
yet, somehow its turned to rubble again.
sometimes i hold an out of order sign
against my breastbone so i can set eyes
straight and wish anyone would light me on
fire,
(but not literally, i'm absolutely against abuse)
i want the sticks but not the stones,
since wood won't leave my body bruised.
use my transitions for kindle,
and my organs for the flames.
i want to be colored red,
like ambulance lights, stop signs,
painted like a signature to warn others
how my frequencies can only be heard
by animals.
maybe some other life forms,
or god,
but i have never hoped more that
you would pick up on my signals,
my freckles scream out samples
of how this could be
or what we could have known.
May 25, 2011
May 25, 2011 at 12:00 PM UTC
I heard that the human body doesn't have one cell the same as seven years before.
Now I'm no biologist, but that would mean I am not the same girl you left ten years ago and there's not a single cell inside of me that you ever got to injure. In all honesty, it's much easier to believe my body is sacred now that I know you never touched it.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
People wonder, how can Christ, be all things to everyone?
Without the proper perspective, Truth can be missed.
So carefully consider some ideas presented here,
before these spiritual concepts are mistakenly dismissed.
To the BUILDER, Christ is the Sure Foundation.
To the ARCHITECT, He is the Chief Corner Stone.
To the GEOLOGIST, He is the Rock of Ages.
To the SCULPTOR, He is the Living Stone.
To the STUDENT, Christ is the Incarnate Truth.
To the PHILOSOPHER, He is the Wisdom of God.
To the BANKER, He is the Hidden Treasure.
To the PREACHER, He is the Word of God.
To the DOCTOR, Christ is the Great Physician.
To the SERVANT, He is the Good Master.
To the THEOLOGIAN, He is the Author of our Faith.
To the EDUCATOR, He is the Great Teacher.
To the JEWELER, Christ is the Pearl of Great Price.
To the ARTIST, He is the One Altogether Lovely.
To the HORTICULTURIST, He is the True Vine.
To the FLORIST, He is the Lily of the Valley.
To the STATESMAN, Christ is the Desire of all Nations.
To the CARPENTER, He is the Eternal Door.
To the PHILANTHROPIST, He is the Unspeakable Gift.
To the LAWYER, He is the Lawgiver, Advocate and Counselor.
To the BIOLOGIST, Christ is the Life.
To the ENGINEER, He is the New and Living Way.
To the TOILER, He is the Giver of Rest.
To the SINNER, He is the Lamb Who takes all sin away.
Our Christ is a multi-faceted personality,
Who has something for everyone who comes to Him.
Therefore, we should continue to rejoice in Who He is,
by offering heart-felt praise through songs and hymns.
Author notes
Loosely based on:
Col 1:15-18; 2 Tim 2:19; Eph 2:20; Isa 26:4; 1 Pet 2:4-12;
Matt 28:20; Cor 1:24; John 1:1; Heb 12:2; Jer 17:14; Matt 19:16-17;
John 1:3; Matt 16:13-17; John 3:1-2; Matt 13:45; John 15:1;
SoS 2:1; Hag 2:7; John 10:7; Cor 9:15; James 4:12; 1 John 2:1-2;
Isa 9:6-7; John 14:6; Heb 3:1-4:13; John 1:29
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
This poem is not meant to serve as an all encompassing list of professions; for example, here are a few more viewpoints not mentioned:
To the BAKER, He is the Living Bread.
To the JUDGE, He is the Righteous Judge of all Men.
To the NEWSPAPER, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy.
To the OCULIST, He is the Light of the Eyes.
To the SOLDIER, He is the fortress.
To the CHRISTIAN, He is the Son of the Living God, the Savior, the Redeemer and the Lord.
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Let’s face it: we’re not all George Clooney.
Most of us need a little help scoring with chicks.
Our dicks—the archetypal genital signal—
Are hidden from sight, &
****** wagging
Will get you arrested.
Perhaps, pheromones may be the answer.
Dr. Winifred Cutler’s Bio:
(As read by Don Pardo, postmortem).
“Biologist and behavioral endocrinologist Dr. Winifred Cutler was the first to establish the presence of human pheromones in 1986 when her team removed sweat from human underarms and found that only the odorless materials that contained pheromones remained.”
Blessed are the
Underarm Sweat Removers,
A Labor cohort
Soon to be SEIU smorganized . . .
Organized, smorganized. | Karen Koedding, Productivity ...
https://www.linkedin.com/.../organized-smorganized-karen-koe...LinkedIn Organized, smorganized. Jan 7, 2015. 209Views; 11Likes; 3Comments. Share on LinkedIn; Share on Facebook; Share on Google Plus; Share on Twitter.
Ka-Ching.
Ka-Ching.
And Andy Stern’s suggestion,
Probably the best for anyone
Searching for a new mate, or
Wanting to move up,
Move up to a new relationship plateau,
Move up to a higher class of ******
Open your nostrils.
Take a deep breath.
Bio continues:
“Dr. Winifred Cutler
Founded the Athena Institute in 1986,
Selected that name
Signifying the mission;
Helping women increase
Wisdom and skill,
Relative to
Their Bodies,
Their Health,
Their Wellbeing.”
Why not a Nobel for Dr. Cutler?
Testimony follows:
“Pheromones magnify my mojo.
I wear the love potion that makes
The most gorgeous gal in the bar--
That kind of gorgeous gal,
Usually out of my league—
Makes her look my way.
Welcome, my fingers
Touch her siren shoulder.
She turns,
‘What do you want?’ she asks coyly.
‘Um, want to dance?’ I manage.
She grins, looks me
Up and down—
Mostly down—
And says, “Not really.”
The verdict?
Apparently, the scent of pheromones is
Still overpowered by nerves.
Let’s face it:
Women can smell fear.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
a chemist in love:
I think you must be acidic
(and I merely litmus)
because the way you kiss me
turns me red;
a biologist in love:
I think you must be ipecac
because the way you touch me
makes my stomach flip;
a physicist in love:
I think you must be seismic
because the way you love me
makes me shake;
a physicist in love;
I think you must be seismic
because the things you say to me
make me shudder;
a biologist in love:
I think you must be ipecac
because the way you touch me
makes my stomach turn;
a chemist in love:
I think you must be acidic
(and I merely litmus)
because the way you kiss me
fills me with dread.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
If I had a million dollars I would distribute it equally
I have 1096 friends on facebook
I have one friend in real life
I have my family
I have to juggle my family and my friend
My friend is my future wife
My problems are real
Going where the water tastes like wine
Born wealthy, my parents are divorced
I'm a human being
I'm a biologist
I'm a lawyer
I'm a doctor
I'm a helper
I'm anything you want me to be
I'm a Poet
I don't need a degree to see how much I shine.
If this world is hell I'm going to **** it in the ***
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
What’s Your Water
*If you talk to Wallace J. Nichols, Ph.D., a marine biologist and the author of Blue Mind, a book about the physical and psychological benefits of water, for long enough,
he’ll eventually ask you*,
***what’s your water?
And as it turns out, nearly everyone has an answer.***
<>
Having lived longer
than I had a right to expect,
through decades of lost years, pain imbued an attitudinal of:
‘I do not ****** care,’
find myself perplexed now by my near
escapes, death misses, graceful landings,
and now,
the fortune tellers ply me with
predictive prescription possibilities
of a good many more!
So I write this missive,
mine own “Guide to the Perplexed.”
for a longest miserable
drove me to deep despair,
and even the littlest do was a wasn’t undone,
to insure any extension, even hurry up a clusterfk,
and here I am
yet, wander-in-g & wonder-in-g,
Why, what
accidents of fortune reversal,
made my prior life a rehearsal
for a hopeful long end run,
before a Mahomes miracle touchdown
Knowingly
looking for the X Fsctor,
discovered that the solution was
W2
W squared)
where W is a
(Woman,Water) multiplier
Found a woman who
lived by waterways,
upon island bodies and seas of rivers
that led to
this little island that
gave me
the solitude unsolicited
to see inside my
history
leaving me with
no imperative imperial resources to resist,
but to make it
just one day more,
to let the celestial sun
celebrate a new daily saluted calculus,
Of
*the sum total of
every grain of water
in this world
evaporated to be rebirthed
in a million raindrops
just like me and
poetry*
writ over the spring & summer of 2024
Sep 9, 2024
Sep 9, 2024 at 11:59 AM UTC
Dedicated entirely to and for Marisa White
So many human cells,
trillions, not billions
staying alive, a constant balance
between losing and making more.
when young and growing,
like you babe,
like you babe,
making many more new,
than we lose.
when we "advance"
to advanced ages,
like me babe,
like me babe,
when old sick,
either body or heart,
starting to die,
losing more than we make.
new cells, no more,
past
tense,
yet, still have colorations of all kinds,
streaming residues inside yet thrive.
the youthful biologist,
you, know all this,
yet still needy seemingly,
for gentlest reminding,
by an inexorably dying man,
prime declining,
so care for these words well,
they won't come again.
for you to imagine a grain
inside you,
so wonderful envisioned,
that the yet uncorrected words
limbo, stasis,
are deleted from the textbooks
as yet unwritten,
on and of you,
writ by you.
I need
but one cell,
of your DNA,
freshly birthed this day,
a canvas of only you,
unsullied by pernicious infected hopelessness,
where, under the microscope electrifying,
I will paint with scalpel and brush,
away the limbo,
injecting the blue dye of
happyness,
to course through your red veins.
how cannot you see,
the potential vastness of the trillions
that awaits, so in need,
needy for coloration by a scientist~poetess,
when a lover good and true appears,
you will birth trillions
new cells in a new body, imagine that,
using only the brightest hues of your untapped potential.
which cell?
so many choices,
so many possibilities,
why that I leave that
up, to you babe,
up up up up up,
up, to you babe.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 8:20 AM UTC
Senate Clever, Ohio - 1000, 1850, 2. Download
the new label model Successor 2: Other
Francs, if needed Ijärvi princesses with good
ears, healthy and secure = total aging time;
Livestock tax (Dutch, Dutch, 1925 for thousands of years;
Cyprus is simple and safe [1] SARS (+ opinions)
Multiple tubes; Animals in the Sahara Desert;
Plants, Wireless Mixes (/ juki) Competitor
Protection (bacteria Astro-Microbiologists, Etc.),
by diet [3] [2] [Greek, "yes" or "right" In Greek]
European Union, b Tomas Pain's
Language- Yet, YBU: The burning of the Qur'an
Who does not speak to the king of the king
Associated with the Emperor, Biology
Biologist Products also cover many different
biologists and pharmaceutical products.
Nothing to work with a small universe;
Some have large holes; To cope with the worst
of problems? You will get swift changes
to your stomach; For the future. Every change
will be reported to the new employee service
board. I do not like Chinese. For example,
if something Changes Every Four years;
These are general Instructions. Brand new;
Similar women, but a little bedroom; This is true ...
not for you and the other fish. Read on Read
[7] Pedestrians can be used on foot. Examples: C.
And lastly. Ten years later, your Frequency
will
range from 10% to 1.1 ...
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
He lived 150 miles away.
but there was something far greater
than a two and a half hour drive separating us.
You're 4,432 miles away
(I know. I googled it.)
yet you seem closer.
Though not close enough.
He made my bones feel dry.
brittle.
I was afraid I'd break from the slightest movement.
but then you.
with your bedhead
and smiles
and love of the sea.
He wants to be a doctor.
Admirable I suppose.
Excuse me if I don't wait in line to kiss his ***
He did more hurting
than he did healing.
bitter.
You'll be a marine biologist
and we'll live by the sea
and have a beautiful multiracial family.
Bliss.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
She called from the hospital payphone.
The little genius girl who wanted to be a marine biologist
Now wanting to die?
I stood by the reciever,
My legs snapping like elastics to the ground
In an awkward embrace with the wall.
That was the last time I cried.
We were thirteen, then.
That was four years ago.
My best friend who I could have helped,
She is breathing right now
but I am not with her.
The death of my childhood.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
I feel like I'm being shoved into all these little boxes, labeled "Teacher", "Doctor", "Psychologists", "Biologist", and "Computer Technician". But none of these fit me.
I am not cube shaped, no one is perfectly boxed. I feel like I'm drowning in these labels and I don't know how to swim yet. I'm only 17 and have no idea what I am doing tomorrow, let alone in the next three years.
Fearing something that hasn't happened yet, fearing a future that is so far but so close away, I find myself and many of my peers cram themselves into boxes.
Half of them don't want to be here either.
Growing up is romanticized into parties and friends and knowing exactly what you'll be doing tomorrow, in three years, in six, in eleven, in twenty. But I've watched my mother shake her head and cry, "I'm lost." I've watched her call her mother at two in the morning, lamenting, with tears falling on her breast. "I'm lost", she whispers.
That doesn't scream "having your **** together". She is 45 and she screams "I am human so help me".
I'm not sure what career I will choose, but I know what I want to be. I want to be Mother, I want to be Free. I want to be Cherished, and Good Natured. Auntie, Brave, Thoughtful, and Wife.
I want to be Happy.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
Oh My God, they’re Home, I will not starve!
I’ve got to let them know I love them so!
Oh wait, they’ll know, ‘pon seeing the **** I carved,
And seeing my lovely *** Art in the Snow!
Will they notice if I jump up High?
Maybe I should stick to making art
And paint their faces with my slobber dye!
Or show my love, perhaps with a quiet ****
Oh Lord, my tail! my tail! Where is it now?
Where’s Mom? Where’s Dad? I thought they were right here!
Should I stop jumping? But I don’t know how.
Perhaps start barking? Wait, I see a deer!
For all the Love they show me every day,
I still feel ‘lone when they’re not here to play.
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 4:46 PM UTC
A historian who retells humanity's triumphs and downfalls, only to their journal every night.
A preacher set on converting the masses, barracading the doors of the chapel from the inside.
A marine biologist on a mountaintop, speaking of the things of the ocean to the sky.
Passion and desire meeting the fruitless nature of distance and doing nothing to close it.
So too is your heart, searching for affection and adoration yet hidden from even your own eyes.
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 12:33 PM UTC
He joined because his father and his father's father had
But he had other dreams
He shot the guns and ran with the pack
But he hated the deafening noise and the crowd
He flew overseas to a base
But he'd rather be home
He killed people
But cried every night for those souls
He saved a comrade who'd lost a leg
But he hated the blood and the screaming
He shot civilians, they said it could not be prevented
But he could never sleep at night for the images and guilt wouldn't cease
He served extra months
But all he wanted was to be held by his momma at home
He went into the next takedown with his team
But came out alone
He couldn't contact his base and was told the drone came in at 1530
But it was already 1527 when he crawled out of his team's grave
He would die an honorable death, serving his country
But he never wanted to be there
He had two minutes, it was not possible
So he lay on his back and looked to the sky
He smiled for he felt a peace he hadn't felt in awhile
But began to cry when he thought of his Pops and Mommy and his two baby brothers
He let out a cry of pain, despair, but relief
For there was to be no more blood, no more death
No more children corpses or all the noises
No more running, no more exploding
No more missing limbs, burnt bodies, or wide-open eyes
No more crowds, and the smell of death lingering
No more orders, no more sleepless nights
No more guns, no more screaming, no more nightmares
No more moving or fighting
No more homesickness, no more suffering, no more pain
His life was never to be this way, never to end this way
He never liked guns, violence, or even confrontation
He learned to accept all things he hated of this never-ending war
Because he felt obligated
He loved his family, saw them for the last time, fifteen months ago
But even they became a dream amongst this hell
And in hell dreams don't come true
He just wanted to see them one last time
Hear their voices
But at his end he just wanted to escape the violence and his sadness
He died a hero
But lived a lie
He protected you and I
But in return he died, in sorrow, pain, exhaustion, and alone
He wanted to be a marine biologist ever since he was five
But he died at the age of twenty
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
i'm a biologist
but i have no idea why
you hurt so much
you're just a muscle
just a pump
just tissue
connected with veins
and arteries
you're just
a bunch of cells
forced to hold on
together
by the laws of nature
you're so useless
just stop hurting already
i can't find a scientific
explanation
and it drives me
round the bend
so
just
stop
hurting
already.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC