"breakout" poems
*She created
A doorway in her mind,
she always keeps one foot in
And one foot out.
However,
Her mind is always lingering
On the other side -
She often feels the need
To breakout!
On the other side,
The trees are wise ancient
Majestic giants,
Rustic leaves
Cover the fertile ground.
The moon is always full,
It is always perfectly round.
The sun is always shining,
But sometimes she has it rain -
Just to hear
The sweet serene sound...
She loves the smell
Of the earth afterwards -
The damp rich ground.
On the other side of the doorway,
Her soul is free -
Here,
She is immune
From emotional stress,
Strain, and pain.
Inspiration is carried
Through the wind,
There is nothing to lose,
But everything to gain.
Nature,
Is always most accepting,
Embracing her essence,
Here, she is alive,
She has an illuminated spirit -
A pure white glowing presence.
She never needs to struggle
For her every breath...
Everything is truly alive -
Nothing, at all, resembles death.
Rivers, crystal-clear,
Flowing with vitality,
Flora and fauna,
Beauty in an abundance -
Thriving,
Celebrating their precious Individuality.
Magnificent mountains
Reaching into heaven,
The bluest ocean,
Wrapping itself around
A breathtaking coast,
Everything about this place
Is what she adores -
What her soul absolutely loves
The most.
On this side,
Nobody can disturb her peace,
Nobody can break her spirit,
Nobody can take her freedom,
Nobody can invade her tranquil thoughts - that's all there is to it!
Here,
Butterflies and doves
Glide through the air,
In dance -
Touching her eyes
With a heavenly love -
So pure.
She always keeps one foot in
And one foot out,
But her heart and her soul
Reside here -
Because here,
Less, is more!
By Lady R.F ©2016*
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 3:12 AM UTC
Everyone journeys to be more but stuck in the struggle
Some desire love while others chase dreams
Careers that others told them would never happen
Obsessed and determined to more
Stuck with less deep down you can be the best
Limits and held back all you want to do is breakout
Feeling good others poison the mind with doubt
Stand tall others want to see you fall
Broken within hide the pain keeping busy not lost in thought
Shattered memories remain that one wants to relive
With the good comes the bad everything will be fine
Be happy over sad moments stuck in tim
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
i've always suffered with acne. i've written about it before. but yeah, it started really in 7th grade. it was one then two then a whole family then before i knew it, my face was red and bumpy and it hurt.
i've tried everything. i really mean it. every home remedy, every recommendation, every tip, every product on the shelf and a few online. nothing's really helped. throughout these years and i'm now a ------ and i still deal with it. because of my acne, it's taken a huge toll on how i view myself and how i feel about myself. i used to hate myself. i would only look in the mirror once every day and that's to put on makeup to cover scarring and acne that's still there.
i hated myself. so much. i wouldn't go out. my parents, specifically my mother, had a lot to say about my face. she would point it out even when i had makeup on and it made me really insecure.
now, i think differently. i'm currently breaking out because i ate a small piece of meat. (which i don't really do, because i don't eat meat anymore. i did it for reasons which isn't relevant right now lol) so yeah, my face is red and bumpy again. washing my face with my eyes closed, i can really feel the pimples. it made me feel disgusting for a moment. but i had to remind myself that it's okay. i'm different now, i don't really care if i break out anymore. of course, i still feel a bit insecure but i don't hate myself because of it.
i still feel like i did when i wasn't breaking out. seeing my face like this has really been a sign for me as saying to myself:
1. don't eat meat anymore, under any circumstances/situations
2. it's okay
i'm okay with my acne that i had in the past now and i'm okay with the breakout i'm currently having.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
scratched walls,
horrifying screams,
of dreams,
electric chair stupor,
in the boudoir,
breathing lunar air,
it’s a psychotic affair.
dilated pupil,
the brain was being a cupel,
men in white coats,
injecting drugs,
in bodies like slugs.
soaked bodies in bath tub,
gazing on the ceiling reading what’s written up.
loonies conspiring against the medic,
through the power of psychedelic.
eyeing each doctor from the corner of their eye,
sitting on their chairs high.
burning with desire,
cold as a wire.
the breakout began at noon,
headed by a loon.
followed by a goon,
in the end of june.
the loons,
wanted to escape to the desert dunes,
running away from the chemical fumes,
dodging exhume.
electrocuted,
injected,
infected,
discarded and rejected.
the loons had taken over,
the goons had won.
they were stun.
terrible turn of events,
it was all in their mind tents,
still sulking on the beds and their wheel chairs,
dreaming of the answers of their prayers.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
The blood that bleeds
It bleeds and leaks
Emotions pour out
Releases the doubt
Down your arm
Its calling out
That shiny blade
It screams and screams
LET ME OUT
Your cares and dreams
Wanna shout
Take me out
Push me in
Deeper and deeper
Your getting weaker
You can't refuse
Nothing to lose
Emotions drain
With every slice
Feeling alive
For that pain
You can't deprive
And when it dries
You cry and cry
You see that blade
Calling out
CUT THE PAIN AWAY
Just breakout
Checkout of life
Slice to bleed
Bleed to slice
Roll the dice
Take a chance
Stop the pain
Of sharp romance
Another way
Not today
Its no coincidence
Its confidence
Believe
Not in a crisp blade
In chances and life
DROP THE KNIFE
Its not your friend
This is the beginning
That's the end
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
Catastrophic
Catatonic
Claustrophobic
Annihilation
One time salvation
Breakout of the contaminated
Destination of taxation without representation
Conspirator to predetermination
Bastardized paradox within a mind flux
Mentality of antagonizing accusations
A nine-cent flag now costing nine dollars
Fronting of the war effort while at home on a family vacation
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 6:21 AM UTC
Ode to the Artists
The givers of life
The ones who bring joy
And wondrous strife
Ode to the Poets
The ones who keep giving
The writers with nothing
Who make life worth living
Ode to the Music Makers
Who give melody to all
For life without glorious tune
Would be our downfall
Ode to the Travelers
The ones who devise
They stray far away
And never think twice
Ode to the Dreamers
The ones who make it true
They prove the impossible
To all who need but believe, and do
And Ode to the so-called Wicked
The ones they cast out
Who all know true sorrow
And armed with that, we breakout!
Breakout of convention
Of the daily routines
We make it our mission
To dare and do what we dream
For the ones who are ordinary
Who stay within the lines
They don't achieve anything at all
And live life unalive.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
I read to forget
I read to feel
I read to escape
I read to heal
I read to remember
I read to distract
I read to connect
I read to backtrack
I’m okay when I read
but it hurts when I don’t
Characters are my friends
when my real friends won’t
The words are my freedom
from this desolate kingdom
Isolated by feedback and uncontrollable flashbacks
I need release from the pain
To breakout of these chains
They torture my brain
looking to blame
I keep running away
from the grief in my mind
I’m tortured by thoughts
I’m not ready to find
I’m trying to outpace my agony and resentment
But my only liberation is to accept contentment
My bookcase is filling with more empty reads
Who am I kidding, what more could I need
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
It took humanity thousands of years to evolve into a society. A place where our thoughts would be heard. Our words could be shared, and we, as a whole moved past the barbaric creatures that we used to be. Few have stood up to the whole and screamed, “WE MUST BREAKOUT OF OUR WAYS! We cannot treat others as if they were dirt! Just because that’s how it has always been does not mean that it is right!”
Their words have inspired, humanity has come so far. We have created an illusion that the more we have the better we are. We have cried and died just to say, “We broke out! We are different and have changed.”
And how perfectly we lie as we say it.
If we have truly evolved, then why are we fighting over love? Does changing mean lining the pockets of politicians so oil companies can make the rules and destroy the Earth?
Is breaking out of our barbaric ways tying down and torturing our mentally disabled? Putting them in cribs so the age of twenty seven looks like a deformed four year old. They are not perfect as the media says that they should. So we hide them away like the Hunchback of Notre Dame was hidden. How can we say that we have left our ****** past behind us when we drug those who are different and condone the torture of the abnormal?
It is not true! Some have screamed at our accusations. It will be changed… and we believe it.
We believe every beautiful lie.
Society bleeds peace from the skin of nuclear weapons. We scream for equality for those who are exactly like us and no one else who doesn’t fit the mold. Gangs run our streets like kings, their drugs flowing through our cities like blood in our veins. Hate is the skeleton with which we thrive and the beautiful lies we whisper are the muscles that keep us moving.
How can we say we have broken out when ****** run the streets free and the pregnant victim is the one society assaults? How can we have broken out when colors that shouldn’t matter are the soul basis for the death of an innocent fourteen year old girl, who just happened to be riding her bike. How can we say that we have changed when families are starving to death because the price of living has gone so high that their stagnant jobs can’t support them like it once did.
Society… Oh society how wrong you are with your honeyed, poisoned words. Do as you say and breakout. Change. Because you’re taking a long walk off a short cliff and those words will catch up to you. Breakout now, no one will do it for you.
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 4:39 PM UTC
It is not
a good idea.
But
This is not
a cliche.
Truth
I’m pulling
no prank.
Please
I mean it
free me.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
I am doomed to these four walls.
The kind that are stained with the sinister colour of hate, but filled with the stench of entrapment.
A prisoner to this war of racing thoughts and self loathing.
I'm shackled with a chain, and at the end of it, is weight of my
remorseful regrets.
A person can go mad on such conditions.
Like bats in the belfry.
But I cope with the worse intentions that I blankly dispatch such events, and call in the wrecking ball.
Operation with the actions to break and have a calling of destruction to these ******* walls.
Just remember you caused that structure.
So now I embrace this freedom with a middle finger held higher than the pedestal you thought you reigned so high on.
You ****** me up.
You once held me higher than I thought I could climb, but now I just say no.
Your eyes enlighten me with such serenity, but now I see the trickery behind them.
I know now what wasn't true.
I know now what wasn't real.
I know now your title will always be a harlot with an addiction of lust like intentions, so lay in your bed of filthy lies.
I know now what ******* **** you truly are.
I know now I'm free.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Let me tell you about Drew Barrymore:
First of all, she got an early start on self-awareness,
To wit: her breakout role as Gertie in
Steven Spielberg's E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,
And quickly became one of Hollywood's
Most recognized child actresses,
Going on to establish her self to this freaking day.
From wit: Yeah, sure, she got an early start,
She literally grew up inside her movies.
And if we had ever had a
Shirley Temple of our own generation,
Drew is it.
Simply put:
Drew is sweetness personified.
N'est-ce pas?
But Habitat Hollywood needed more,
Must dwell on the Barrymore name,
Pounding that angle,
Sledging the dynastic anvil,
Forging consensus:
It’s in her genes.
It’s that sangue royale,
It’s in her blood.
All those Fairbanks & Randolphs,
Harrisons & Blyths,
Palazzoli & Giofredi . . . ***
That’s where you get your looks,
You little guinea ****
That olive oil & garlic,
Enhancing that gilded
Barrymore Blood!
It must have been an
Early pink thrill for you, Drew,
Seeing all those
Doors spread wide open--
Widespread like a ****** legs--
Career barrier walls,
Inhibitions crumbling.
What a pleasant realization!
“I am a member of a
Multi-Generation
Theatrical Dynasty.”
And going even further back than
John, Ethel & Lionel, Babaloo.
We’re talking the British Stage here,
We’re talking Legitimate Theater,
As in: Tread those boards, GB Shaw!
Which brings me to my point:
Drew’s had a long time to get over
That Diva
(Louie Prima) Donna thing.
She knows who she is.
She’s comfortable out here,
Way out here in the
So-called real world.
Out a monk’s her environment at-large.
Query: heredity or environment?
Always.
To wit: It was always
Her habitat doing the molding--
From Wit: *******
It’s in her ****** DNA.
In her freaking genes:
Which is precisely
Where I’d like to be right now,
My cherished,
My sweet Drew:
In your freaking jeans.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
My dreams are like the dried up stalks
and stems in my Garden,
I have not watered them except with
my tears, the dirt is so porous,
what is against us is not for us,
I mean...me and me.
The container Garden has holes drilled
for purposes (use them for what they were intended)
for greater good (hold on, did you say you were offended?)
why let your mood spoil a sunny cloudy freezing windy wet day,
why do you brood??
Question is can you stop,
and do you, know IT when you are,
and is the Garden only the sum of its fruits
Labour on,
Labour long,
Do you need or want to leave anything behind,
for to be remembered, you know Life the Grind
by ME, or do you want to go out like the hikers
walk in the park, and leave no trace.
Get me out of this place,
the four walls have mirrors,
I am sick of looking at
my face, do it for ME.
I can't break though
or breakout, 7 years of bad luck
may be all that I have left,
unless I cut myself on exiting,
like a bird with a useless wing,
flightless, and bleeding tears.
Pulling at my hair like they are weeds
rooted, like pins to grenades going off
in a worn out hollowed stump that
once held a brain.
©ClemC072013
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
In the bedroom our love comes down
My screams can be heard from all around
In the bedroom you hold me so tight
I never dream or consider
One day i might leave you
In the bedroom bad things occur
I breakout in cold sweats just thinking of you and her
In the bedroom the fight begins
The screams don't stop till someone wins
In the bedroom bloods on the floor
You look at your feet awaiting your fate
In the bedroom there i was
My breathing is no more
In the bedroom your love went away screams can be heard to this day
Murray
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
Behind the bars every thing is so calm,
Routine work is to do with a winter scarf, Jailer is on the round on his routine,
And am changed via metal rings in a que going towards canteen ,
Now taking plates & heading towards meal distribution,
Suddenly a quarrel started between 2 gang mafias in front of centre of rehabilitation,
These fights are common like morning and sunset,
Am here without any reason only just for a ****** & a kidnapping yet,
Now it's the time for checking & inspection of my little dark cage,
It's messed up as always like am in teenage,
Its the playground time,
2 person came to me from my parallel cage line,
Told me about there breakout plan,
i refused to them cuz they don't even have the jail's blueprint & arranged a minivan,
Time to go back to my little lonely cell,
as per my personal routine it's the time when I write under low light with my pen,
Write daily happenings in rhymes, I also write about my happy past life but only sometimes,
The sun is under the horizon, Its time for day's last meal with change of inspection officer in section C prison,
Time to go bed putting aside my pen and copy,
Tomorrow morning I'll start again my day with my hobby.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
Go!
I got a rush and ain't ready to stop
Keep my body moving all night long
I see the top and I'm ready to go
I'm hilltop high and never going low
Escape from the hall of clean
It's time to breakout and wreak havoc
Upon the town till the morning sun
No cop no mom will ruin my fun
Veer away Veer Away
Nothing's gonna end today
Blur together my mind
Go and search, unsure of what you'll find
I got a rush and ain't ready to stop
Keep my body moving all night long
I see the top and I'm ready to go
I'm hilltop high and never going low
I was sent from the depths of hell
Here's the story I will tell
And stick by for all its time
This is my life, its all a crime
Ha,Ha,Ha,Ha
Ha,Ha,Ha,Ha
I'm a monster and your in too deep
The hill you wanna climb's to high and steep
You wanna catch up to me
Baby just wait and see
I got a rush and don't wanna stop
Keep my body moving all night long
I see the top and ready to go
I'm hilltop high and never going low
Stop!
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 8:07 PM UTC
If silence was ever to be described,
It would be a safe zone in a war.
The calm before the storm,
Or merely the anesthetics fueled in
Before you can start to feel the pain again.
Her silence was just different,
It shrieked in a tearing pain,
Also the numbs the body throughout.
Without voice; it's louder than anything you'll hear.
But you should be worried more when she breaks the silence; and breakout.
-HIY
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Linking the ritual chronology of the past few days in accordance with 'The Boy's' 21st birthday. No longer a boy, but not quite a man, but unsure if that was the ambition at all. Linking the rites of spring with the rites of summer, endless summer, indian summer, endless ****** no longer sure, were we ever, and did we ever want to be?
The seasonal threshold coupling the brutality of summer freedom. All those years on the bench in systemic education, waiting, counting the days until the breakout of summer, the breakout of the nation-wide epidemic of drips of sweat rolling down foreheads, cars racing up and down the highway going anywhere but home, if only for a few minuscule hours of freedom. Not really knowing what to do; the only certain knowledge; that doing anything is better than doing something, whatever that means.
Proud proletarian patriot, hating with every inch the structure and the scaffold, the zephyr swishing and swooshing over the surface of the storefront, while the air condition whirrs away, in a little town on a little island in a massive inlet in a vast sea, tossing and twisting, raging and blistering with the toils of work, throwing rhetorical fists in the air like-you-just-don't-care, with drops of Digital Ink. –with that strange symbiotic disharmony that emits from the boy's fingers, fuelled with every every-day stimulant, caffeine, nicotine, THC; Trembling Hallucinogenic Creation. The ongoing tremble of uncertain fingers, searching for a certain certainty he knows he'll never see.
And therein lies the tragedy
But also the beauty.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
the animals in the zoo they were getting board
no one came too see them thy just felt ignored
so they planned a breakout decided to break free
go back to the jungle where they all should be
waited for the dark to escape at night
waiting for the moment when the time was right
the fences they were high all around the ground
the gates were all locked up and securely bound
so they dug a hole underneath the fence
taking it in turn the digging was immense
everyone escaped now the animals were free
headed for the jungle where they all should be
they boarded on a ship and hidden out of view
they had stowed away no one ever knew
the reached the shores of africa home again once more
now they all were free just like they were before
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
the last time
I slept in this
bed a wasp
swooped down
and stung me
on the neck
hurt like a
*****
and I didn’t
even ****
the
sucker
I was writing,
just like now,
so I said
“wasp,
you stay up there
and
I’ll stay down here
and we’ll both
leave each other
alone”
he called my bluff
and went in for
it any way
hurt like a
*****
and I had
never been
stung
before
I was sure
that I was going
to breakout in
hives or my throat
was going to
swell shut
it was a terrible
way to spend Christmas
Eve night
now it’s a bit
different
a beautiful woman
yearns for me at my
left
my body survived
the sting but has
grown older and more
tired
the world shifts
constantly
but this room
filled to the brim
with dolls and books
and old broken-down
knick-knacks that once
had purpose to some-
one
has not changed
four trophies stand
on a shelf across the
room
one lays on its
side
a broken camera
rests about me
two dolls hold hands
on a bench
pictures of people;
some that I know,
some that I don’t
and a pair of lamps,
both shades titled in
such a way that proves
nobody really
cares
the only thing moving
is the flies on the walls
and ceiling,
and the quiet, precise
movements of a man
trying to capture an
eternity
Dec 28, 2011
Dec 28, 2011 at 12:51 AM UTC
Don’t ask me
how I am
‘cause fine I can
never be
When you think
I’m happy and carefree
I’ve just drowned myself
in your company
When you see me
dancing in the rain
you fall in love
with me yet again
For me, I’m just
trying to lose
myself in the
dripping pain
When you see me
laughing hysterically
you think to yourself
you’ve found a gem
Me, I’m just
trying to hold back
all my tears that may
breakout my inner self
For you, I tried to
put on a happy face
and many a time
feel it too
But somehow
this pain is
far too
deeply etched
I don’t know
if these chains
are made by me
‘cause really
I try to break free
But every single time
I find myself
clutched more tightly
by these killing flames
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
I’m busting out of this oppressive penitentiary of negativity
I’ve got the determination to transform my laughable dream into an applaudable reality
I refuse to be held here for another second
No locks, no cameras, no rubber rooms or electric chairs will hold me
I’m free
No blockade of words can cause me to halt
Opportunity is knocking heavily at my door
I open the mahogany entryway and welcome it inside
I make it tea and have a deep conversation about things to come
“You’ve been in the dog house for too long”
“Yeah, but every dog has its day”
It’s calling to me
Time to initiate my aspirations
Cheers to the future
So long to the past
Now I am here
On a paramount path
The path is made or salty tears, perspiration and sacrificed blood
The satisfying end justifies the brutal means
Not a soul had a single ounce of faith in me
Naysayers only bring you down
Now I’ve made it
Their mouths drop in disbelief and can’t seem to make a sound
Escape the prison of “won’t”, “cant” and “never”
And all those who doubt you are prison guards, liars
Breakout from the discouragement
Then set the jaundice jail on fire
Never needed them
Self-proficient
Shut up
And open your eyes
And observe closely
As your callus skepticism dies
Thank you for keeping me in the dark
I’d have no reason to reach for the light other wise
I look at you fall as my dreams rise
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
I have to do you better because
Its what you deserve for all you've done
Bringing me into and up in this world
For raising me right and teaching me well
But despite my best efforts and intentions
We both know that I cannot make that happen
As I quest to release my inner me
This thing that's built up so deep sown inside
And I will drive you as crazy
As I drive my car down this dark highway
Unseeing and alone with only my headlights here
Spotting none ahead and catching no sight behind
And still on I drive
Until it comes upon me that he is free
That day you will know I have made the most of me
And even though it will sadden you
You will see that it was needed for the best
This is how the road has to be
If it was simple and easy
And I followed the path that you intended
I will never breakout and find who
And more importantly what I am meant to be
So for the time being embrace the insanity
Its for the best
It truly is
Its for the best
And know that for all of this
For each and every little thing I have done
I love you
For each and every little thing you have done
So very much
Remember it well
And when this world of hell is at its darkest
Know that the dawn is not far off
And despite the nature you see of that world
Its only one moment, one speck in time
And that I love you all the same
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 12:41 AM UTC
Darkness is all she sees
When she looks at you
Even when she looks at me
The abyss of her sorrows
Goes down for days
Each day she borrows
Because it has never been the same
There are taunting whispers
Turning to screams
She lays awake crying
Afride of her dreams
The abyss in her heart
A hole to huge to fill
The abyss in her soul
It will never heal
She wonders each morning
How she will feel
If today's not a good day
She wonders how she'll deal
She has been falling for a while now
But no one has noticed
She has been hiding for a while now
But no one has found out
Her abyss is her prison
Her skin her cell
She's on eternial lockdown
Trying to breakout
Her efforts are pointless
Her attemps she has failed
She wants to stop trying
But the pain she can't bare
She is begging for help
But no one is listening
She is living this hell
But they dont see her missing
They don't notice
The look in her eyes
But I, I notice
Every single time
My abyss is my prison
My skin is my cell
Is it of my own making
I can't even tell
My wrist they hold scars
My heart is all bandaged
My soul tells the stories
My mouth can't manage
By; Breannah Cross
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Swiftly so much to sweep
Helsing so deep the love hard to keep
Her words were off balance
Poem stanza Mama Mia all formed
Like a ballerina 575 Japanese Haiku
Designer Pucci Sochi releasing
so piercing garden jailed away
I begged I needed to feel guided
Maid hard-love of slavery
to the requiem the chariot of horses
Jumped like eyes of the demon
She pleaded with what corruption
Planes fired with struggling
Hearts became stronger
The taste was the different side
wicked fun animation
The men were changed
cruel love aviation
Needing the right ammunition
Prince Zar became 666 Stalin
Leadership of blackmail
Lips got sealed with more
love friction
Make your poems roll in
The Trump Tower polls in
Holy Gods Italian Collisuem
Every hour Poem maid
Requiem
The maid she had his words
Less communication so
***** what transcends
Your life depends?
"Delicious" Monsterous"
Only words "Devious"
maid Beauty and the beast
to digest
Destiny short poems of ecstasy
Oh! My She-locked
No heart or morals all locked
He wanted to steal her poems
Being conned into the heist
Higher walk with the rest
Poem Requiem palace
Hannibal Rising test
Watching her movements in
her lipping
She was home "Cruella" sweeping
Willow tree weeping new maid Priscilla
The Reign suffering minds of madness
Being ruled sweeping tears to clean up
Such wicked dirt Damon the ***** work
knowing to shut up what a ****
Feeling moved around "UHual"
Choked upon on my I-pad appalled
The masquerading social media mind
of Jekyll and Hyde poems
Her getaway poems not to be fooled
Terraced thousands of poems died
All betrayed upon with more deep lies
Important words to keep them alive
Saturday night poems stay alive
Stakeout Apps Presidency
Like a heart snack breakout
This was far from democracy
The "Quickie Requiem" for a
poem tricked over taken away
My best dream
Gripping love slightly in between
Doctor words to heal the King
his beeper the right timing
Save the poem not the Queen
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC