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"butthole" poems
I was only 9 years old. I pray to Shrek every night, thanking him for the life I’ve been given. “Shrek is love” I say, “Shrek is life." My dad hears me and calls me a ****** I knew he was just jealous of my devotion to Shrek. I called him a **** He hits me and sends me to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts. I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm... It's Shrek! I was so happy. He whispers in my ear "This is my swamp." He grabs me with his ogre hands, and puts me on my hands and knees. I'm ready. I spread my *** cheeks for Shrek. He penetrates my ******** It hurts so much, but I do it for Shrek. I can feel my **** tearing and eyes watering. I want to please Shrek. He roars a mighty roar as he fills my **** with his love. My dad walks in. Shrek looks him straight in the eye and says, "It's all ogre now." Shrek leaves through my window. Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
0
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
shrek is love, shrek is life
I was only nine years old, I loved Shrek so much. I pray to Shrek each night. "Shrek is love" I say, "Shrek is life." My dad hears me and calls me a ****** I knew he was just jealous of my devotion to Shrek. I called him a **** He hits me and sends me to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts. I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm... It's Shrek! I was so happy. He whispers in my ear "This is my swamp." He grabs me with his ogre hands, and puts me on my hands and knees. I'm ready. I spread my *** cheeks for Shrek. He penetrates my ******** It hurts so much, but I do it for Shrek. I can feel my **** tearing and eyes watering. I want to please Shrek. He roars a mighty roar as he fills my **** with his love. My dad walks in. Shrek looks him straight in the eye and says, "It's all ogre now." Shrek leaves through my window. Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 6:47 AM UTC
Shrek is love
on this october night, while i ponder on the crisp toilet seat and feel my body shiver from the awful lack of heat, one single **** compact and long, from my ******** falls, and into then rank toilet water it splooshes and splashes. on the porcelain i clench my feet and moan, it echoes through the halls, my ******** it burns! (lo, how it burns!) as if a ***** went in full with scratches. how i pray to God Almighty, "forgive me Lord for I have sinned", in this ****** place i sit aroused and weary, The light is dimmed, from the corner of my eye, my end nigh: i sigh, Lord. i sigh! the toilet paper is gone, i cannot handle the vapor (nor my **** gaper).
0
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
the sploosh splash of the october night turds
*Lay down for me baby Spread your legs Let me get you off Let me lick that pretty ***** With my tongue I'll melt all of your worries away The way my tongue is sliding up and down your slit I see that it has your body slightly shaking I'll have you crying rivers of pleasure Thicker than the ocean that your ***** is about to become Just let me add a little bit of pressure to your **** You like the way that feels? Well I like the way you moan and toss my hair I slide one of my fingers into your ******** You let out a sudden but **** little gasp I start ********* your **** tight little ******** You moan louder as you squeeze my head like a stress ball As I continue to lick your ***** And that's when you *** so intense, so fast, so hard All I can do is sit there and stare deep into that pretty crevice between your legs as I bask in the after effects of my work I then finish the job by softly kissing you along your inner thighs and give you one more deep, wet kiss on your ***** as I close the gap with a trail of kisses across your hips*
0
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
Spread Your Legs
I push with all my might, But my butthole's too tight. I'm up all night, Trying to conquer this fight. I keep thinking it's going to be all right, Stuck in a long plight. Through my sight, I see the brown and blue reunite. Kerplunk.
0
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
Almighty Push
Look at him twitching You know he's tweaking His jaw swinging back and forth But there's no speaking See's something down In the carpet twinkling He gets all excited You know what he's thinking Anything he finds He's going to be smoking I wouldn't be laughing Because he ain't joking Down there for hours Refusing to fail Doesn't even slow down After smoking toenail Smokes up almost All that he finds He hears a noise Now he's peeking through the blinds He's been smoking too long And he's up all night Doesn't have a job But that's alright He's finds a dumpster And without any warning He's dives in searching Til the early morning That's just the life Of a tweaker you see Always out hustling To get his **** for free If you see him at night Approach with caution He's got a stink about him Because ain't been washing Picking at his face Til his sores are bleeding A light and a mirror Is all he's needing He finally got busted Now he's on parole Has to hide his drugs Up in his ******** It's a shame, but that's the way A tweaker gets by in the world today His family don't want him And he don't have many friends His life is cut short And that's how it ends Everybody knows him But no one knows his name They just refer to him As "That dope smoking Lame"
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Tweakers
What goes in, always, Comes out, Through the ******** of life, Which is **** itself. Such a waste, That we are born, Live, And die, Fighting for things, Money Materials, ******* things, That we can’t take with us, When we die. What a ******* waste it all is, Yet somehow, Everything and everyone is needed, For the next phase of waste. **** becomes fertilizer, We become reborn, Into whatever else is **** out next.
0
Nov 6, 2023
Nov 6, 2023 at 8:23 PM UTC
Waste
and my soul fell through the hole in my soul which fell through my ********                                                                                                   signed:                                                                                                             -abe da babe linkin.
0
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 1:37 AM UTC
e-constipation proclamation.
I’m leaving Neverland, and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I’m gone, I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way, but if I stay I will die, and I’ll be giving away the precious gift, of the only thing I actually have, my life, because it’s not too late but will be if I wait, to make all these wrongs right, and it’s not too late but will be if I wait, to **** my past and start a new life, I can’t stay, and I can no longer deny, that my Hometown of Hollywood has been corrupted, they even made the most innocent moments feel tainted, maybe that’s why I can’t play with a little boy, without feeling like I’m doing something wrong, and I haven’t sexually abused a single child in my entire adult life, so why should I feel confused by what’s going on, and we all know what’s going on, we all know They are attracted to the Young and Innocent, because in the twisted logic of their perverted minds, they think maybe by being with children they’ll stay Forever Young, it’s disgusting, and I’m so ashamed of the city I’m from, that I’m not even having kids, because I feel bad for every daughter and son, and I still love Michael Jackson, I mean I own a self-portrait painted by him, it hangs in my hallway I pass it everyday, as I search for a way to find some separation, between art and artist, between who God created, and what that who God created, creates from that creation, trying to make peace with, the fact that every gifted artist seems to be so twisted, makes me suspicious, of every celebrity I know and all their addictions, because it’s different, depending what what their addiction is, I mean a bit of blow is one thing, but a kids ******** goes beyond addition & becomes a sickness, and we may never know every secret untold that goes on without witness, and honestly at this point I don’t even care, I just want to get the heck outta here, you know what I mean Billy Jean, the kid’s not mine but I’m still talking to the Man in The Mirror, so it’s time to Beat It, make my escape like a Smooth Criminal, because I realize now that all those messages, were more than just subliminal, and I don’t like The Way You Make Me Feel anymore, I’m not going to wait ‘Till You Get Enough, I’m going to find a place where I actually feel appreciated, because I finally realize that back in Hollywood They Don’t Care About us, so I’m leaving Neverland, and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I’m gone, I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way, but if I stay I will die, and I’ll be giving away the precious gift, of the only thing I actually have, my life… ∆ LaLux ∆ Hollywood 2019
0
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
Leaving Neverland
I’m leaving Neverland, and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I’m gone, I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way, but if I stay I will die, and I’ll be giving away the precious gift, of the only thing I actually have, my life, because it’s not too late but will be if I wait, to make all these wrongs right, and it’s not too late but will be if I wait, to **** my past and start a new life, I can’t stay, and I can no longer deny, that my Hometown of Hollywood has been corrupted, they even made the most innocent moments feel tainted, maybe that’s why I can’t play with a little boy, without feeling like I’m doing something wrong, and I haven’t sexually abused a single child in my entire adult life, so why should I feel confused by what’s going on, and we all know what’s going on, we all know They are attracted to the Young and Innocent, because in the twisted logic of their perverted minds, they think maybe by being with children they’ll stay Forever Young, it’s disgusting, and I’m so ashamed of the city I’m from, that I’m not even having kids, because I feel bad for every daughter and son, and I still love Michael Jackson, I mean I own a self-portrait painted by him, it hangs in my hallway I pass it everyday, as I search for a way to find some separation, between art and artist, between who God created, and what that who God created, creates from that creation, trying to make peace with, the fact that every gifted artist seems to be so twisted, makes me suspicious, of every celebrity I know and all their addictions, because it’s different, depending what what their addiction is, I mean a bit of blow is one thing, but a kids ******** goes beyond addition & becomes a sickness, and we may never know every secret untold that goes on without witness, and honestly at this point I don’t even care, I just want to get the heck outta here, you know what I mean Billy Jean, the kid’s not mine but I’m still talking to the Man in The Mirror, so it’s time to Beat It, make my escape like a Smooth Criminal, because I realize now that all those messages, were more than just subliminal, and I don’t like The Way You Make Me Feel anymore, I’m not going to wait ‘Till You Get Enough, I’m going to find a place where I actually feel appreciated, because I finally realize that back in Hollywood They Don’t Care About us, so I’m leaving Neverland, and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I’m gone, I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way, but if I stay I will die, and I’ll be giving away the precious gift, of the only thing I actually have, my life… ∆ LaLux ∆ Hollywood 2019
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68
Oh ruinous apple, the flesh is too much and sweet as hell, sweet as chicken meat dripping off the bone to swim in pureed flesh on the tongue, oh ruinous apple, your stem is no longer a caterpillar, there is no tiny butterfly of a leaf on your dorsal. Oh ruinous apple, you say "I have grown old and hate my skin," hoping that it will finally be shredded and given to my belly. Oh ruinous apple, you are not so old to me, you have become a cougar in your old age and the seeds still make tambourine noises in your ********
0
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 12:30 PM UTC
The Apple.
God, I hate 3am! You make me late for work and grind my mind into bite sized peanut butter cups. My thoughts are not a drill, but they ***** me like Debbie did Dallas.                      *really? You're doing ****                   references now? * **** off! YES, I said **** in a poem!                   *who are you talking to? * YOUR MOTHER!!! always voices at 3am! Voices like shadows barely perceived on the edge of your ear.                        *you can't hear shadows * No one ******* ASKED YOU! Sleep is a midnight UFO hovering behind an old farmhouse. You may have seen something... once, but you can't prove it really exists. Not at 3am when shadows walk like peeping Toms passed your window. Not at 3am when your eyes are shot and your skull tingles like peppermint body wash on a squeaky clean ******** What the **** am I saying? I don't even know anymore. ©Nathan A. Brock 2022
0
Oct 6, 2022
Oct 6, 2022 at 6:00 AM UTC
I Hate 3am
The chill that crawls in the cytoplasm and folds in against itself damasked and dynamic but it wasn't the climate's bite the pea gravel stone cemented into place boarding up the fluid monument poured up and leveled by its creator but it wasn't the stone digging into my heel pressing on the once broken bone that reminded me that this THIS is not the way i ordered my hamburger and no it wasn't any thing growing atop my flimsy wrapping pale and hairy and then nothing inside me and resting along the walls of my longest tract digesting my food along side me even still more base it wasn't any amount of matter condensed shooting firing between two neurons reminding me of half truths or lies blatant ones which can careen me back into places better left forgotten no what i felt there with wet feet and cold quivering hands was something that despite what i would love to believe CANNOT be measured that which drew me from every one of the places that should be connected but aren't to a love manifested as suspicion that placed both egg and seed in the same envelope of both disgust and admiration **** you Vicky whoever you are **** you and all the cold ******** lice and the pressure the memories they all try to drag me away to a place where I cant see what they desperately try to convey one to another and our brilliant star moves from behind one iridescent pink gossamer puff sparkling for a moment back behind another it's warming but it doesn't reach back for your had no request for your warmth and yet every fiber aches for the moment when you careen back into it or when everything you know is compressed back into it that that little moment where everything and nothing make sense like two dogs speaking french to each other as long as they both know how to howl not just how to how is simple. but when and why
0
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 3:23 AM UTC
It's Vicky's Fault
The chill that crawls in the cytoplasm and folds in against itself damasked and dynamic but it wasn't the climate's bite the pea gravel stone cemented into place boarding up the fluid monument poured up and leveled by its creator but it wasn't the stone digging into my heel pressing on the once broken bone that reminded me that this THIS is not the way i ordered my hamburger and no it wasn't any thing growing atop my flimsy wrapping pale and hairy and then nothing inside me and resting along the walls of my longest tract digesting my food along side me even still more base it wasn't any amount of matter condensed shooting firing between two neurons reminding me of half truths or lies blatant ones which can careen me back into places better left forgotten no what i felt there with wet feet and cold quivering hands was something that despite what i would love to believe CANNOT be measured that which drew me from every one of the places that should be connected but aren't to a love manifested as suspicion that placed both egg and seed in the same envelope of both disgust and admiration **** you Vicky whoever you are **** you and all the cold ******** lice and the pressure the memories they all try to drag me away to a place where I cant see what they desperately try to convey one to another and our brilliant star moves from behind one iridescent pink gossamer puff sparkling for a moment back behind another it's warming but it doesn't reach back for your had no request for your warmth and yet every fiber aches for the moment when you careen back into it or when everything you know is compressed back into it that that little moment where everything and nothing make sense like two dogs speaking french to each other as long as they both know how to howl not just how to how is simple. but when and why
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84
Pantywaist, This shows no taste. Light in the loafers, Maybe for gofers. Squats to *** Who? Not me! Limp-wristed, It it’s twisted, maybe. ***** and sissified, Maybe somebody lied. *** and ****** You’re a bigot. Bigass Fruit, Zoot and all root. Tuttifruity, Call to gay duty. Half a man, Sometimes better than. Tinkerbell, Go to hell. Airy-fairy, You’re just scary. ******** bandit, I can’t stand it. *********** Bigass ******* Silly queen, Quit being mean. Flutter-by, Can’t pronounce butterfly? ***** Don’t get handsy, mate! Nancy boy. Political ploy. Just some of the words We gays have all heard With each imprecation The implication Is that we are sick, Definitely twisted, And the end result Is that each insult Pushes the speaker Further away, and weakens The hold on a reality That homosexuality Is just another normality. In short, reality.
0
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
I'm ******** out rainbows Isn't everybody aware? I'm sick of crying tears. I giggle in happy insanity Because all these colors I'm making make even hell glow With happiness Even the devil is swinging on the dance floor with me So enjoy my show as my pants fall down I'm ******** out rainbows as I'm sick of dropping with a frown I'm the new clown In town I rock the way to happier times as I change rusty and despairing subjects A giggle from the loon in the quiet shall start a chain of giggles in the city all of us sharing this magical moment we take a dump to relieve ourselves of this sadness **** I'll tell you something I feel lighter than air As I leave a trail of colors Out of my ******** I'm ******** out true happiness from the end of dark madness I'm glowing from the relief of heavy burdens of sadness as I am the new life that was always inside of me... We are all sisters and brothers... Let us join in Pants down We are much bolder than all those stiff others Just a great show Because, now, we are all ******** out rainbows.
0
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
******** out Rainbows
You can make any poem Sound deep and meaningful by putting random spaces between lines. Like For example My ******** is really itchy today.
0
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 7:44 AM UTC
********
Locked in the dark room With a man that talks too much There’s nothing that wears it off Laying on the kitchen floor and shower stall It will all be okay I swear Just rest your head Lying on the floor In so much psychosis pain Sober whispers and ****** speeches                 *She was the one I wanted                           Tell everybody to go away                        A good kick in the nuts                          I don’t care for it                            One thing will set me off                    And it’s over for me* Locked in the dark room Different spectrums to rage Research what the best solution is I feel crazy on doctors’ advice                  *Are you flexing now bro?                            That's so loose ********                     Camping in an office                   Blown up on shrooms* Three weeks D minus B Old drugs will only get you new diseases Different opinions always offered on old payments Dreams so vivid                                *They don’t make no sense                                  They always make sense* Stay awake No sleep Sleep in the dark room Old folks at an old folks home A lifetime reminiscing about the comings and goings Of some forgotten sickness                     I got the night terrors ******* crazy Ohio to LA Some hazy dream of what it’d be like to audition It’s new crushes on old enemies that tie us together Minnesota goodbyes And long drives home.
0
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 12:24 PM UTC
Another conversation
Locked in the dark room With a man that talks too much There’s nothing that wears it off Laying on the kitchen floor and shower stall It will all be okay I swear Just rest your head Lying on the floor In so much psychosis pain Sober whispers and ****** speeches                 *She was the one I wanted                           Tell everybody to go away                        A good kick in the nuts                          I don’t care for it                            One thing will set me off                    And it’s over for me* Locked in the dark room Different spectrums to rage Research what the best solution is I feel crazy on doctors’ advice                  *Are you flexing now bro?                            That's so loose ********                     Camping in an office                   Blown up on shrooms* Three weeks D minus B Old drugs will only get you new diseases Different opinions always offered on old payments Dreams so vivid                                *They don’t make no sense                                  They always make sense* Stay awake No sleep Sleep in the dark room Old folks at an old folks home A lifetime reminiscing about the comings and goings Of some forgotten sickness                     I got the night terrors ******* crazy Ohio to LA Some hazy dream of what it’d be like to audition It’s new crushes on old enemies that tie us together Minnesota goodbyes And long drives home.
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43
Grades better now at school Check Bills payed up Check Hair cut fresh check Clothes washed check Forgot to get car fixed which leads me to I actually didint do any of this stuff I'm out of luck . this ***** ********
0
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
******** *****
I scream I ****** cry You hear me!! Yeah!! I'm Pissed man At you!! Why weren't you here man I needed you I was on the ground too Man lost it Couldn't do it I don't wanna do it **** this **** **** this life It ain't right Every day man every shity day You know how it goes Down the bowl You do it right Then they let you go People like us We can't do **** jobs Naaa man don't think so They can kiss my ******** I want to die But I won't I'm Too strong I bounce the **** up And it's ******* me off Where are youuuuuuu!! **** you then Pinche Anthony man I should have let you get Empire tatted on your neck Bad Idea hu Yeah now I'm watching Your laugh in slow motion Hope you get Ran da car dover **** Hahaha **** I want some French cries with this **** **** you man I'm ****** I want to slobber on your shoulder ****** Just like you
0
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
**** car you doña
Relaxed in a state of absolute calm, The air of serenity a soothing balm To ease the imminent struggle ahead As I sit on my throne of porcelain and shed The anticipation tugging at my bowels And out come the mud dogs wearing brown cowls. Out they come and my tension is released, In a violent cacophony the silence has ceased! It has been replaced by a beautiful sound Like the music of nymphs, with voices all crowned. The release is a final stinky-sweet ender, As the *** paper flows my world lights up with splendor! The sunlight filters through my one bathroom porthole And the warm rays splay playfully across the hairs of my ******** This is the moment, ***** all the rest. Nothing else can compare...a good **** is best.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
Ode To Universal Release
I remember the way the sunlight danced across your face In the middle of the afternoon. I remember lying in bed with you, loud and giggly Not caring who heard us. I remember the care-free feeling, doing what we wanted We loved being alone. I remember staring into your eyes, Moments before we would kiss; My hand wrapped up in your hair, your arm around my waist, The most amazing feeling in the world. I remember the softness of your lips, And the warmth of your tongue; Smooth, wet, and warm. I remember those days when we'd d nothing at all We'd watch, TV talk and eat, but those were the best parts Of us. I remember being able to do anything with you, I even touched your ******** one time But then I fell off the bed {Insert laughs here}. I remember all the good and the bad And everything in between. The love {making} and the fighting, And the "uh okay"'s. Loving you was tiring. I remember everything, the feelings, and the words But I would do it all over again if I could. I love him.
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Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
Remembrance (For Lost Loves)
This one goes out to the ones who know what I mean The ones who sit on the pooper, let go of nothing but a scream A holler, a yell, a desperate cry, must be a dream A **** me, why can’t I, send one floating down the stream The ones who have seen their self esteem Boil down to a terrifying extreme I pooped today, we say Just kidding, haven’t done so in 3 or 4 days And we wait and we wait for it to pass past our way But the train is a freight, blocking our path through the gates This clogging I have deep inside my ******** Is a constant pain and urge, a persistent struggle A puzzle really, a puzzle it is to my mind How much prune juice must I guzzle until I can **** this time? The toilet paper waits to wipe off my *** The pebbles and streaks after the log runs Don’t cover your eyes or ears, ladies, we all know that you do You can’t hide from the truth, no perfect angel praying in pews Although the fees of the males will claim they never poo Everyone knows you all drop some gnarly doo doos And that, too, some food for thought, to bite off and chew Swallow your pride, give a big ol’ high five, when you release a number 2 And back to my problems, you know, how I can’t drop a **** Paul Revere can even say, this one, he’s already heard And the hurt that I flirt with, the coming close to victory All but escapes me, sitting to **** flowing just a *** It ***** I will say, I will say that for sure If I may, I will pay it, I will pay to no longer endure This feeling inside me, the prolonged clenching of the cheeks I tell of this issue from a heart wrenching, a remember when we **** Every day of the week
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
Constipated: Birth to 11
This one goes out to the ones who know what I mean The ones who sit on the pooper, let go of nothing but a scream A holler, a yell, a desperate cry, must be a dream A **** me, why can’t I, send one floating down the stream The ones who have seen their self esteem Boil down to a terrifying extreme I pooped today, we say Just kidding, haven’t done so in 3 or 4 days And we wait and we wait for it to pass past our way But the train is a freight, blocking our path through the gates This clogging I have deep inside my ******** Is a constant pain and urge, a persistent struggle A puzzle really, a puzzle it is to my mind How much prune juice must I guzzle until I can **** this time? The toilet paper waits to wipe off my *** The pebbles and streaks after the log runs Don’t cover your eyes or ears, ladies, we all know that you do You can’t hide from the truth, no perfect angel praying in pews Although the fees of the males will claim they never poo Everyone knows you all drop some gnarly doo doos And that, too, some food for thought, to bite off and chew Swallow your pride, give a big ol’ high five, when you release a number 2 And back to my problems, you know, how I can’t drop a **** Paul Revere can even say, this one, he’s already heard And the hurt that I flirt with, the coming close to victory All but escapes me, sitting to **** flowing just a *** It ***** I will say, I will say that for sure If I may, I will pay it, I will pay to no longer endure This feeling inside me, the prolonged clenching of the cheeks I tell of this issue from a heart wrenching, a remember when we **** Every day of the week
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32
When the world gets more ******* in the ******** Gas prices go down then? It's a catch 22 for real
0
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
Catch 22
i got pulled over tonight i wasnt driving guess the drivers color race or origin and you will win a free trip to prison nah, that's not where we went but it was something they wanted to do put us behind the bars they said they saw 3 cars one was the leader one was middle and one was third they put on their lights my stomach chirped like a bird each one of us out one by one first the id's then out the car lined up in front of the police car padded down searched you smell like **** have you been smoking **** today? yes i have been smoking **** today when silence and then they move on to other questions full search pockets emptied jacket pants inside jacket pocket both sides spread em wide haha but still i smile he doesnt know the truth behind where it is or what he smells it's a smell of smoke a tease something that he will never find no matter how hard he tries he will never know that this whole time it was in my ********
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Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 5:47 AM UTC
Pulled Over
For a kid with the name Aledro things get difficult I'm a bully at my high school I don't play any sports Even though the coaches want me I'm 6'3" and 246 lbs I lift 500lbs with no problem But instead I pick on kids like grape vines I don't mean to be mean I'm just trying to take out my own emotions Show somebody that I have feelings too Yet when nobody listens I turn violent I've gave some kid a wedgey so bad His ******** ripped I almost drowned some kid in the toilet Broke a kids nose I wish I could take it all back Tell them I'm sorry But they ended up killing themselves 17 years old I could go to jail Honestly I wish the cops would take me now I'm a murderer not just a bully I made somebody else's life worst When I tried making mine better Guess I'm a failure Needing more than pills and a counselor I wonder how long my name will last in these pages I doubt it everyday a murderer writes his name in here Not much else to say I wrote a letter to my mom, my dad, the principle, and the parents Of all those kids I bullied The very ones that died Even wrote letters to all the kids I still bullied It wasn't long Just an apology and saying what I've done Also where they could find my body When it drifts back to shore After these pills, this blade, and this gun Drift me off to that special place in hell I know the devil kept warm for me
0
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
Diary of Broken Souls (Aledro's Story)