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"cancers" poems
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
GodDamnItCat
Change is not a possibility, its only a dream.
We all want to Support stopping racism, because we sent black and white men to die in war together, before we could be educated together, The end gender inequality, Because women can't where cloths, and feel safe, walking down a street alone, with out feeling were going to get ***** Same or different *** relationships, Because the way you love your significant other, wouldn't be the same if they changed there gender to the other? Transgender rights, Because there a man everywhere else but in there pants, And men don't get cervical cancers, So yes legally changing my gender won't help me if i need a treatment only a lady would get, and this goes vice a versa, But I shouldn't have to worry about any other pains, except the possibility of one in my unwanted **** **** victims, including males, Yes you, Feminist views, Please just Stop over looking, Men go though it too. And we all may know men may be the main cause, Women have just as much play, No human, Wants an unwanted Violation, to come into any contact with them so personally, See all these things, we want to stop, and they need to, but, When u last walked down the street, what stranger did your Arrogant eyes peek? they saw someone, and you though they were, too fat, too small, too tall, a **** needs to button up, he used to pop pills, now he cant pay his bills, and there's so many I'm leaving out, like what they thought about you, so you see, each of these little groups, we just pass each other on the street, even when we didn't even meet, it's human nature, our natural order, to insult each other, some just get the really blunt edge. maybe we should change how we think and act, before we go wishing for things out of our knack's.
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57
“Robin Williams didn’t die from suicide. I only just heard the sad, sad news of Robin Williams’s death. My wife sent me a message to tell me he had died, and, when I asked her what he died from, she told me something that nobody in the news seems to be talking about. When people die from cancer, their cause of death can be various horrible things – seizure, stroke, pneumonia – and when someone dies after battling cancer, and people ask “How did they die?”, you never hear anyone say “pulmonary embolism”, the answer is always “cancer”. A Pulmonary Embolism can be the final cause of death with some cancers, but when a friend of mine died from cancer, he died from cancer. That was it. And when I asked my wife what Robin Williams died from, she, very wisely, replied “Depression”. The word “suicide” gives many people the impression that “it was his own decision,” or “he chose to die, whereas most people with cancer fight to live.” And, because Depression is still such a misunderstood condition, you can hardly blame people for not really understanding. Just a quick search on Twitter will show how many people have little sympathy for those who commit suicide… But, just as a Pulmonary Embolism is a fatal symptom of cancer, suicide is a fatal symptom of Depression. Depression is an illness, not a choice of lifestyle. You can’t just “cheer up” with depression, just as you can’t choose not to have cancer. When someone commits suicide as a result of Depression, they die from Depression – an illness that kills millions each year. It is hard to know exactly how many people actually die from Depression each year because the figures and statistics only seem to show how many people die from “suicide” each year (and you don’t necessarily have to suffer Depression to commit suicide, it’s usually just implied). But considering that one person commits suicide every 14 minutes in the US alone, we clearly need to do more to battle this illness, and the stigmas that continue to surround it. Perhaps Depression might lose some its “it was his own fault” stigma, if we start focussing on the illness, rather than the symptom. Robin Williams didn’t die from suicide. He died from Depression*. It wasn’t his choice to suffer that.”
0
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Empty-Girl
An article I read. "Robin Williams did not die from suicide."
“Robin Williams didn’t die from suicide. I only just heard the sad, sad news of Robin Williams’s death. My wife sent me a message to tell me he had died, and, when I asked her what he died from, she told me something that nobody in the news seems to be talking about. When people die from cancer, their cause of death can be various horrible things – seizure, stroke, pneumonia – and when someone dies after battling cancer, and people ask “How did they die?”, you never hear anyone say “pulmonary embolism”, the answer is always “cancer”. A Pulmonary Embolism can be the final cause of death with some cancers, but when a friend of mine died from cancer, he died from cancer. That was it. And when I asked my wife what Robin Williams died from, she, very wisely, replied “Depression”. The word “suicide” gives many people the impression that “it was his own decision,” or “he chose to die, whereas most people with cancer fight to live.” And, because Depression is still such a misunderstood condition, you can hardly blame people for not really understanding. Just a quick search on Twitter will show how many people have little sympathy for those who commit suicide… But, just as a Pulmonary Embolism is a fatal symptom of cancer, suicide is a fatal symptom of Depression. Depression is an illness, not a choice of lifestyle. You can’t just “cheer up” with depression, just as you can’t choose not to have cancer. When someone commits suicide as a result of Depression, they die from Depression – an illness that kills millions each year. It is hard to know exactly how many people actually die from Depression each year because the figures and statistics only seem to show how many people die from “suicide” each year (and you don’t necessarily have to suffer Depression to commit suicide, it’s usually just implied). But considering that one person commits suicide every 14 minutes in the US alone, we clearly need to do more to battle this illness, and the stigmas that continue to surround it. Perhaps Depression might lose some its “it was his own fault” stigma, if we start focussing on the illness, rather than the symptom. Robin Williams didn’t die from suicide. He died from Depression*. It wasn’t his choice to suffer that.”
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4
Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk
0
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
trackgirl3
Decisions
Decisions Eanie meanie minie mo one can not decide like so your past is gone, let it go eanie meanie minie mo We think they were childish games to play yet it tells our future each and every day Its a 50-50 shot you could go ether way But there is no turning back One step in the wrong direction and you are done for Because the key was thrown into the ocean that could only open the locked door behind you Like hot lava A playground game If you stumble off the side and landed in that hot firey pit of lava you were done for That ocean where the key was thrown into has turned into a nasty green The waves and seaweed churning under the dark stormy sky This is not a message in a bottle but more of a lost man at sea Every stepping stone could result in a broken heart A bruise A forgotten friend One wrong decision could cause a prodigy to die Like ****** His Mother almost got an abortion Her family told her over and over to just go through with the pregnancy She probably tossed that decision back and forth in her mind But her family won the match If she had decided to go against her family I wonder where society would be today Would there be dozens of Einsteins? A million Madonnas? Would there be a cure for all the cancers? For the common cold? Every judgement is a puzzle piece Every step you take back or turn in the unexpected direction is another step towards your fate Everything matters If you had gotten one more gallon of milk you wouldn't have run out so you wouldn't have gone to the store and meet your best friend there so you wouldn't be going to that Zumba class Then you wouldn't have met five of you new best friends and your husband All of that for a jug of milk
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38
Selfishness: the quality or condition of being selfish I've never found a definition that described me so perfectly I spend my life talking about everything I hate and spreading around negative weight not even knowing why I wake and every time I feel just an ounce of selfishness reality takes it toll on me and hurts a loved one why do bad things happen to good people she's only 24 and is diagnosed with 4 different cancers but still manages to find that reason to smile through the pain Life has its ways to teach me lessons but some lessons are more harsh than others Selfishness: the quality or condition of being selfish I've never found a definition that described me so perfectly I want to formally say sorry to everyone who was ever in need of a life because I acted like the life inside of me was just another branch on a tree
0
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
heidi-mason
what selfishness seems like through the eyes of me
Selfishness: the quality or condition of being selfish I've never found a definition that described me so perfectly I spend my life talking about everything I hate and spreading around negative weight not even knowing why I wake and every time I feel just an ounce of selfishness reality takes it toll on me and hurts a loved one why do bad things happen to good people she's only 24 and is diagnosed with 4 different cancers but still manages to find that reason to smile through the pain Life has its ways to teach me lessons but some lessons are more harsh than others Selfishness: the quality or condition of being selfish I've never found a definition that described me so perfectly I want to formally say sorry to everyone who was ever in need of a life because I acted like the life inside of me was just another branch on a tree
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27
The Great Newfoundland novel (summation) A young man brimming with Townie **** and vinegar or Bay boy brimming with obnoxious  bravado Eventually he leaves and discovers How people  treat fellow man Seemingly beaten down Genetic history Of Newfoundland Truck System Alongside founders population variance, Upward spike in heart disease, stroke, diabetes, cancers Lurks engrained learned hopelessness Smouldering in "Newfie" jokes You'd better hope I let it slide Unless you wanna find out What a peat moss bog smells like Or how it feels to freeze to death Tied to a crucifix
0
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
WhereDoIGoFromHereDorothy
Truck
The Great Newfoundland novel (summation) A young man brimming with Townie **** and vinegar or Bay boy brimming with obnoxious  bravado Eventually he leaves and discovers How people  treat fellow man Seemingly beaten down Genetic history Of Newfoundland Truck System Alongside founders population variance, Upward spike in heart disease, stroke, diabetes, cancers Lurks engrained learned hopelessness Smouldering in "Newfie" jokes You'd better hope I let it slide Unless you wanna find out What a peat moss bog smells like Or how it feels to freeze to death Tied to a crucifix
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17
Lymphoma There was a fundraising run for lymphoma and other cancers A little notice for it on top of the garbage can at a home grown Jamba Juice right off the BART in Berkeley It hit home: what I was up against People don't run through the streets casually and my cat had lymphoma I couldn't find him last night for the first time He had his weekly appointment and I brought in something that didn't look at all like he was the week before They paged the vet and she came in saying thing like he needed an IV and tests and wasn't there nothing else to do didn't she say that he needs hospitalization--his liver we can't tell you what to do but it would all go in a circle and come back to a suffering being who had come to the end of what science could do for him what she was trying to tell me in her barrage of words came through loud and clear They brought him in with a blanket and a catheter and he struggled until he got warm and then rested I wanted him to see me, as the last thing he saw in this world She took the three syringes out of her white coat Don't hurt him, just don't hurt him my only request There was no pain Only relaxation, sleep and then at last no heartbeat Her ability, her smoothness of execution was perfect and he went limp in my arms not suffering The nurse took his body away "It's the last gift we can give them" she said and I imagined a man, a stereotypical image of a man pacing back and forth in a white coat in front of a lecture hall full of vet students saying that exact thing and there was a serious air in the classroom and some wrote this down, it was so true, sound, capable and final but this woman said it this veterinarian from Michigan and through my tears and grief there was some kind of undercurrent of relief, that there is no more pain for him He no longer suffers and I did all I could do
0
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
zulu-samperfas
The Last Gift We Can Give Them
Lymphoma There was a fundraising run for lymphoma and other cancers A little notice for it on top of the garbage can at a home grown Jamba Juice right off the BART in Berkeley It hit home: what I was up against People don't run through the streets casually and my cat had lymphoma I couldn't find him last night for the first time He had his weekly appointment and I brought in something that didn't look at all like he was the week before They paged the vet and she came in saying thing like he needed an IV and tests and wasn't there nothing else to do didn't she say that he needs hospitalization--his liver we can't tell you what to do but it would all go in a circle and come back to a suffering being who had come to the end of what science could do for him what she was trying to tell me in her barrage of words came through loud and clear They brought him in with a blanket and a catheter and he struggled until he got warm and then rested I wanted him to see me, as the last thing he saw in this world She took the three syringes out of her white coat Don't hurt him, just don't hurt him my only request There was no pain Only relaxation, sleep and then at last no heartbeat Her ability, her smoothness of execution was perfect and he went limp in my arms not suffering The nurse took his body away "It's the last gift we can give them" she said and I imagined a man, a stereotypical image of a man pacing back and forth in a white coat in front of a lecture hall full of vet students saying that exact thing and there was a serious air in the classroom and some wrote this down, it was so true, sound, capable and final but this woman said it this veterinarian from Michigan and through my tears and grief there was some kind of undercurrent of relief, that there is no more pain for him He no longer suffers and I did all I could do
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47
**the sighs in our chest that emanate from a different kind of breast cancer** wrote these words prior, then, certainly uncertain of the exactitude of their meaning, clearly unclear of their useable intention, yet the too real wrathful sensations that inspired their caesarian creation, the sigh's very own exhalations, floatations devices for the interned-no-longer emotions, escapees via the crevasses of chest ribs splitting open, return to glory thanking me for freedom given let posterior eloquence suffice, let brevity guide my self's interior diagramming, lengthy explications and deep analytics, I leave to you, the astonished medical examiner and the horrified mortician chest ripped, my hand reinserted, the blighted scourges, the abscessed cancers, the obsessive relentless cankers, asking shamelessly why have I returned to the crime scene *the sighs are air-borne, ready for air plucking, all cloud seeded, deeded for poets to seize and commence, to plant and invent, a mountain top trickle to a mighty river of poems to be recovered and discovered, unrehearsed and unleashed but you and I have unwished, unfinished business, as of yet unwritten, one last poem to honor our mutually assured destruction, for this day will be rewritten differently*
0
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:11 AM UTC
left-foot
The sighs in our chest that emanate from a different kind of breast cancer
**the sighs in our chest that emanate from a different kind of breast cancer** wrote these words prior, then, certainly uncertain of the exactitude of their meaning, clearly unclear of their useable intention, yet the too real wrathful sensations that inspired their caesarian creation, the sigh's very own exhalations, floatations devices for the interned-no-longer emotions, escapees via the crevasses of chest ribs splitting open, return to glory thanking me for freedom given let posterior eloquence suffice, let brevity guide my self's interior diagramming, lengthy explications and deep analytics, I leave to you, the astonished medical examiner and the horrified mortician chest ripped, my hand reinserted, the blighted scourges, the abscessed cancers, the obsessive relentless cankers, asking shamelessly why have I returned to the crime scene *the sighs are air-borne, ready for air plucking, all cloud seeded, deeded for poets to seize and commence, to plant and invent, a mountain top trickle to a mighty river of poems to be recovered and discovered, unrehearsed and unleashed but you and I have unwished, unfinished business, as of yet unwritten, one last poem to honor our mutually assured destruction, for this day will be rewritten differently*
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28
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
0
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
irma-cerrutti
We Are All Sadomasochistically Decomposing In A Heap Of Our Own Meconium
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
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29
To everyone waiting to see me fail I came to let you all know That this soul ain't for sale I'm sure you enjoy the show But this sure isn't for you It's all for me and I'm all in You don't know what I've gone through And you sure don't know where I've been I've been in the deep end I've gone through hell once or twice Enough to know that I'll bend But won't break in this life And I spill it all in these lyrics I'll sing and scream loud as I can To make sure you hear it And know I've become the man That I want to be But we all know No matter what we see There's room to grow So I search for my answers I continue to strive To cure these old cancers That try to eat me alive
0
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
jack-ghaven
My Soul (Not For Sale)
To everyone waiting to see me fail I came to let you all know That this soul ain't for sale I'm sure you enjoy the show But this sure isn't for you It's all for me and I'm all in You don't know what I've gone through And you sure don't know where I've been I've been in the deep end I've gone through hell once or twice Enough to know that I'll bend But won't break in this life And I spill it all in these lyrics I'll sing and scream loud as I can To make sure you hear it And know I've become the man That I want to be But we all know No matter what we see There's room to grow So I search for my answers I continue to strive To cure these old cancers That try to eat me alive
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24
This DNA is not what shall define me My actions should speak louder than my bloodline My habits are not those of who I come from but of what I have built on my own My income is not based upon the work or lack there of from those who contributed to what is I I am not what I genetically come from And I am a mix of what has raised me Flaws and "beneficial" qualities as well Your DNA does not D E F I N E YOU ... We are who we make ourselves become You may be more likely for breast cancers or to become an alcoholic or to become depressed But your outlook Is influenced by where and what you come from / what makes you But you have the power to create your own outlook You are you Not half your fathers beliefs and half your mothers Genetics do not define you or myself Make a decision Choose Who will Y O U BE?
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
Autumn42
Genetics
This DNA is not what shall define me My actions should speak louder than my bloodline My habits are not those of who I come from but of what I have built on my own My income is not based upon the work or lack there of from those who contributed to what is I I am not what I genetically come from And I am a mix of what has raised me Flaws and "beneficial" qualities as well Your DNA does not D E F I N E YOU ... We are who we make ourselves become You may be more likely for breast cancers or to become an alcoholic or to become depressed But your outlook Is influenced by where and what you come from / what makes you But you have the power to create your own outlook You are you Not half your fathers beliefs and half your mothers Genetics do not define you or myself Make a decision Choose Who will Y O U BE?
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31
increasing the yield potential of a crop has been the aim of Monsanto with great efficiency this company has hit on a jackpot it holds a monopoly on agricultural products yet Monsanto are selling a very dodgy line of seeds the cornmeal and wheat has not a taste which is truly sweet people must become educated in what they eat the Monsanto Company don't tell of adverse findings about products that it vends they bring many cancers which affect men women and children we all want a wholesome loaf of bread one that hasn't had it wheat genetically tampered with we all deserve clean and unadulterated food on our plates to decrease those ever rising cancer rates Monsanto is a company who cares little for our health Monsanto is a company who has only an interest in making profits and wealth
0
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
ElizabethSquires
Making Wealth
increasing the yield potential of a crop has been the aim of Monsanto with great efficiency this company has hit on a jackpot it holds a monopoly on agricultural products yet Monsanto are selling a very dodgy line of seeds the cornmeal and wheat has not a taste which is truly sweet people must become educated in what they eat the Monsanto Company don't tell of adverse findings about products that it vends they bring many cancers which affect men women and children we all want a wholesome loaf of bread one that hasn't had it wheat genetically tampered with we all deserve clean and unadulterated food on our plates to decrease those ever rising cancer rates Monsanto is a company who cares little for our health Monsanto is a company who has only an interest in making profits and wealth
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29
I see the commercials for osteoarthritis. And mentally curse this age of awareness Where we, the audience are forced to see our frail mortality . . . One in three! ONE IN THREE! Mocks the voice on T.V. And suddenly my chest fills with invisible cancers cholesterol, and tumors While diabetes races through my veines. I stagger from the room. Joints now rusted with a touch of arthritis. My breath wheezes from the asthma I never had until this moment. My arteries harden like boa constrictors. And I fall to the floor - breaking a hip as I go down. My memory fades under Alzheimer's wrath. While glaucoma darkens my vision. And ravaging Obesity, consumes my soul.
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
a-odea
Tragedy by Hypocondria
I see the commercials for osteoarthritis. And mentally curse this age of awareness Where we, the audience are forced to see our frail mortality . . . One in three! ONE IN THREE! Mocks the voice on T.V. And suddenly my chest fills with invisible cancers cholesterol, and tumors While diabetes races through my veines. I stagger from the room. Joints now rusted with a touch of arthritis. My breath wheezes from the asthma I never had until this moment. My arteries harden like boa constrictors. And I fall to the floor - breaking a hip as I go down. My memory fades under Alzheimer's wrath. While glaucoma darkens my vision. And ravaging Obesity, consumes my soul.
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20
I'm a Pattern Breaker Pass the soul shaker Rather be a maker Then meet the undertaker Study if you want to Patterns we all go through Taught false is true Truth is in what we do We all have answers Still we get cancers Create ribbons and banners Get upset lose our manners Soldiers take tours die in religious wars Truth main battle fought behind closed doors Toxic hatred spreading mental spores Pollution melting ice raising ocean shores Continue the pattern to **** is to win Method is this madness our greatest sin Each loss there's a cost animosity begins An explosion of souls losing their skin Governments construction to help us function Built in corruption seeds of self destruction Laws punish choices creating junctions Living Hells..Prison cells youth feel the suction Hmm now what's a Pattern breaker? Funky new thought creator Already know the later Break the pattern of the hater..♏
0
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
PoetryByMAN
Pattern Breaker
I'm a Pattern Breaker Pass the soul shaker Rather be a maker Then meet the undertaker Study if you want to Patterns we all go through Taught false is true Truth is in what we do We all have answers Still we get cancers Create ribbons and banners Get upset lose our manners Soldiers take tours die in religious wars Truth main battle fought behind closed doors Toxic hatred spreading mental spores Pollution melting ice raising ocean shores Continue the pattern to **** is to win Method is this madness our greatest sin Each loss there's a cost animosity begins An explosion of souls losing their skin Governments construction to help us function Built in corruption seeds of self destruction Laws punish choices creating junctions Living Hells..Prison cells youth feel the suction Hmm now what's a Pattern breaker? Funky new thought creator Already know the later Break the pattern of the hater..♏
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28
Another ordinary day Or so seems from the Outside I portray I'm so content on the outside While my whole inside is Dark and grey My enemies reflect magnify And measure my flaws My friends are hurting from the pain that cancers cause It's not just one It's so many building up It's time to fix all this I've had enough I try to take matters Into my own hands Refuse to listen to Gods perfect plan I try to perfect my self Craving for escape And when I cave in It's not even worth the taste The numbers don't match up And this is getting tough It's all these things inside me All bottling up I've got to fix this all It's getting so rough I peer into the eyes of uncertainty loss an hurt I try to stay open when others slam you out I can see what your going through I know what hurt is all about I want to show who Is helping me But when I'm falling fast What example can I be Fix this please! No one getting any sleep Im losing fire inside of me I need some oxygen I need to breathe You're losing hope again The smiles are just pretend You need a rescuer You need to be set free
0
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 2:53 PM UTC
that-girl-1
Set Free
Another ordinary day Or so seems from the Outside I portray I'm so content on the outside While my whole inside is Dark and grey My enemies reflect magnify And measure my flaws My friends are hurting from the pain that cancers cause It's not just one It's so many building up It's time to fix all this I've had enough I try to take matters Into my own hands Refuse to listen to Gods perfect plan I try to perfect my self Craving for escape And when I cave in It's not even worth the taste The numbers don't match up And this is getting tough It's all these things inside me All bottling up I've got to fix this all It's getting so rough I peer into the eyes of uncertainty loss an hurt I try to stay open when others slam you out I can see what your going through I know what hurt is all about I want to show who Is helping me But when I'm falling fast What example can I be Fix this please! No one getting any sleep Im losing fire inside of me I need some oxygen I need to breathe You're losing hope again The smiles are just pretend You need a rescuer You need to be set free
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45
Here hails a huge, long and dragonish snake, With myriads of dangerous heads on its thorax, Roaming up and down in a nefarious duty All over the African streets and hamlets, Villages and terrains, the abodes of poor folks, Swallowing daughters and sons of this land, Swallowing a handful of them on each bite, They are in a forlorn despair like never before, Defenselessly succumbing to the dragon once in the grip, Young and old, prebubescent and all others are cancers’ fodder, Africa is truly diminishing to the abysmal jaws of cancer, Forget of initial vices of *** Ebola and leprosy, Forget of the contemporary terrorism and ethnic warlordism, Cancer is ruthlessly swallowing poor folks of Africa Into its inferno of early deaths, rendering many parentless, A knot for the living to put aside pride and seek genuine help, For the myriad heads of dragonish cancer violently **** the prey, I have seen sons and daughters of poor Africa in cancerous agony, Often with a blocked food pipe when in the grip of throat cancer, Non-stop vaginal bleeding at mercilessness of cervical cancer, In the torture of brute pulling weight in grip of scrotal cancer, On the top of maximum pain in the grip of breast cancer Humorously desperate before menacing eyes of death, When misfortunately in the grip of heart cancer, Deathly starvation condemns many poor folks to grave, Always when in the unlucky tentacle of intestinal cancer, In this desperate land of Africa where basic hospital Stands a luxury, affordable by the rich in the political class, As the poor without choice die and die and die, O who will take me out of Africa, this nonchalant Africa? Before the dragon of cancer condemns me down to its Inferno of pains and miserably violent death! I fear death due to punctured lungs without solace, I fear death due to stunted blood cells without succor I fear death due to poisoned blood without palliative When the cancerous heads of ; lung cancer, blood cancer, And Liver cancer will besiege this land of Africa to hold me a captive.
0
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
alexander-k-opicho
CANCER IS SWALLOWING AFRICA’S POOR FOLKS
Here hails a huge, long and dragonish snake, With myriads of dangerous heads on its thorax, Roaming up and down in a nefarious duty All over the African streets and hamlets, Villages and terrains, the abodes of poor folks, Swallowing daughters and sons of this land, Swallowing a handful of them on each bite, They are in a forlorn despair like never before, Defenselessly succumbing to the dragon once in the grip, Young and old, prebubescent and all others are cancers’ fodder, Africa is truly diminishing to the abysmal jaws of cancer, Forget of initial vices of *** Ebola and leprosy, Forget of the contemporary terrorism and ethnic warlordism, Cancer is ruthlessly swallowing poor folks of Africa Into its inferno of early deaths, rendering many parentless, A knot for the living to put aside pride and seek genuine help, For the myriad heads of dragonish cancer violently **** the prey, I have seen sons and daughters of poor Africa in cancerous agony, Often with a blocked food pipe when in the grip of throat cancer, Non-stop vaginal bleeding at mercilessness of cervical cancer, In the torture of brute pulling weight in grip of scrotal cancer, On the top of maximum pain in the grip of breast cancer Humorously desperate before menacing eyes of death, When misfortunately in the grip of heart cancer, Deathly starvation condemns many poor folks to grave, Always when in the unlucky tentacle of intestinal cancer, In this desperate land of Africa where basic hospital Stands a luxury, affordable by the rich in the political class, As the poor without choice die and die and die, O who will take me out of Africa, this nonchalant Africa? Before the dragon of cancer condemns me down to its Inferno of pains and miserably violent death! I fear death due to punctured lungs without solace, I fear death due to stunted blood cells without succor I fear death due to poisoned blood without palliative When the cancerous heads of ; lung cancer, blood cancer, And Liver cancer will besiege this land of Africa to hold me a captive.
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37
Who are you truly, behind closed doors? Do you respect all that is theirs and yours? Do you smile at yourself like you do on the streets? Or is that just a cover for your sorrowful heartbeats? Are you reluctant to doing all that you scorn others for? Or are you just a ***** hypocrite and nothing more? Do you truly care about the answers to these questions? Or are you just nosey without a spine or suggestions? So many questions but too little answers, the verdict will **** us all like cancers.
0
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 10:44 PM UTC
cali-lynn-calante
Questionable Questions
Who are you truly, behind closed doors? Do you respect all that is theirs and yours? Do you smile at yourself like you do on the streets? Or is that just a cover for your sorrowful heartbeats? Are you reluctant to doing all that you scorn others for? Or are you just a ***** hypocrite and nothing more? Do you truly care about the answers to these questions? Or are you just nosey without a spine or suggestions? So many questions but too little answers, the verdict will **** us all like cancers.
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10
Leather seating, closure in these moments while we’re on the longest of this drive, Maps stuffed in the glove compartment; where shall we go on this long road? Not giving hearts, but giving you my word, in a blue chassis ride, skipping gears to get to five. Going down hill, and I’ll put it down into glide. I’m not as neutral, to express my eyes, reflecting all the pretty mirrors of your body. Lap sitting, holding onto my steering wheel, hand on a rear; wipers set on low. And I’ll kiss you one last time, as if the last becomes the first. _Blue Nissan,_ tell me if you’ve even been in a ride like this before? When your empty pockets are full, and you’re driving a car you could never afford. I promised myself, not to do the wrongs I do to myself to someone I love. To not go on stealing hearts, as if this world doesn’t have too many bandits. My hands are vowed to only rest their desires on you. These lips are a secret only to know your ears. This love I can only gladly give to my God, You, and His people. Death isn’t an end to us, but just a new beginning we can only get to one by one. So keep my seat warm up in Heaven, and I’ll keep yours too if it’s me to go before you. Whether sickness is chasing my lungs, cancers diagnosed on my list of problems, Let’s just be running towards the days of life you and I both still have. And like this drive, with no rush to our final destination, But enjoyment of all we’ll experience on this road of life.
0
May 14, 2022
May 14, 2022 at 11:46 AM UTC
OddOdysseyPoet
Blue Nissan wedding vows
Leather seating, closure in these moments while we’re on the longest of this drive, Maps stuffed in the glove compartment; where shall we go on this long road? Not giving hearts, but giving you my word, in a blue chassis ride, skipping gears to get to five. Going down hill, and I’ll put it down into glide. I’m not as neutral, to express my eyes, reflecting all the pretty mirrors of your body. Lap sitting, holding onto my steering wheel, hand on a rear; wipers set on low. And I’ll kiss you one last time, as if the last becomes the first. _Blue Nissan,_ tell me if you’ve even been in a ride like this before? When your empty pockets are full, and you’re driving a car you could never afford. I promised myself, not to do the wrongs I do to myself to someone I love. To not go on stealing hearts, as if this world doesn’t have too many bandits. My hands are vowed to only rest their desires on you. These lips are a secret only to know your ears. This love I can only gladly give to my God, You, and His people. Death isn’t an end to us, but just a new beginning we can only get to one by one. So keep my seat warm up in Heaven, and I’ll keep yours too if it’s me to go before you. Whether sickness is chasing my lungs, cancers diagnosed on my list of problems, Let’s just be running towards the days of life you and I both still have. And like this drive, with no rush to our final destination, But enjoyment of all we’ll experience on this road of life.
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36
Come and try my medicine, If you don't think it works. It tastes good, smells good, And I get so hungry, I could eat my shirt. It helps me stay awake. It helps me sleep at night. It slows the sweat in summer heat. And warms me from the Winter's bite. It eases the pain of sickness and cancers. It eases the pain in the knees of the dancers. It eases the throbbing in the eyes of glaucoma. It keeps me from ripping and burning my homework. It slows the decay from Auto-Immune. It even makes a lovely smell to fill my room.
0
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 5:14 AM UTC
jmg
Legalize
Come and try my medicine, If you don't think it works. It tastes good, smells good, And I get so hungry, I could eat my shirt. It helps me stay awake. It helps me sleep at night. It slows the sweat in summer heat. And warms me from the Winter's bite. It eases the pain of sickness and cancers. It eases the pain in the knees of the dancers. It eases the throbbing in the eyes of glaucoma. It keeps me from ripping and burning my homework. It slows the decay from Auto-Immune. It even makes a lovely smell to fill my room.
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14
Dearest Mr. Green, It was an honor to have my heart broken by you. Your book, The Fault in Our Stars was one of the best recommendations I may have ever crossed. I thank you deeply for all the hours of pure giddiness and tortuous pain that you created in both Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters. However, I do have many questions about Hazel's future: does she ever loose her battle to her cancer? What happened to Augustus's parents soon after the loss of their son set into reality? Your story honestly had my heart ripping slowly into pieces, the way you described how Hazel Grace and Augustus had crossed paths and went down a beautiful road into the hearts of all your readers... gave me the deepest appreciation of the young fighters of childhood cancers. As a daughter of a cancer survivor, I've had my fair shares of visiting support groups with my mother while she was going through her treatments. I remember the panic I felt every time she went in for PET scans and Chemo, worrying for any ounce of her body to betray her. Thank you for making the pain and worry of cancer so beautifully worded, and the uncertainty of how quickly cancer can easily take the happiness away from someone.   Thank you for the hopes given to me when you wrote the heartfelt words, “Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.” You are truly an incredible soul with a heartbreaking habit of writing books with main characters who tend to die of some serious form of illness. I find you to be both evil yet so perfect when it comes to your stories. You are my inspiration. However, I am slightly upset that AIA is not a real book. It would be quiet a wonderful rollercoaster to ride. “Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal”  Yours, could not have put my thoughts onto paper in any more of a perfected way. Yesterday, you gained a new fan. I adore you as an author and person. I really do. Sincerely, m.b July 11, 2013- I have yet to hear a reply...
0
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
mb-1
Letters to John Green
Dearest Mr. Green, It was an honor to have my heart broken by you. Your book, The Fault in Our Stars was one of the best recommendations I may have ever crossed. I thank you deeply for all the hours of pure giddiness and tortuous pain that you created in both Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters. However, I do have many questions about Hazel's future: does she ever loose her battle to her cancer? What happened to Augustus's parents soon after the loss of their son set into reality? Your story honestly had my heart ripping slowly into pieces, the way you described how Hazel Grace and Augustus had crossed paths and went down a beautiful road into the hearts of all your readers... gave me the deepest appreciation of the young fighters of childhood cancers. As a daughter of a cancer survivor, I've had my fair shares of visiting support groups with my mother while she was going through her treatments. I remember the panic I felt every time she went in for PET scans and Chemo, worrying for any ounce of her body to betray her. Thank you for making the pain and worry of cancer so beautifully worded, and the uncertainty of how quickly cancer can easily take the happiness away from someone.   Thank you for the hopes given to me when you wrote the heartfelt words, “Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.” You are truly an incredible soul with a heartbreaking habit of writing books with main characters who tend to die of some serious form of illness. I find you to be both evil yet so perfect when it comes to your stories. You are my inspiration. However, I am slightly upset that AIA is not a real book. It would be quiet a wonderful rollercoaster to ride. “Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can't tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal”  Yours, could not have put my thoughts onto paper in any more of a perfected way. Yesterday, you gained a new fan. I adore you as an author and person. I really do. Sincerely, m.b July 11, 2013- I have yet to hear a reply...
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11
Impression or suppression an utmost subconscious decision or an utmost practiced precision? to cover her natural moving canvas so he can see the physical bliss never mind the festering dangers that breed within her heart's cancers until the day her painted face is defied by time and space of an old ancestral rival time when death itself in arrival comes and leaves none in its wake evangelism; Cosmetics' new grace offered at every corner and place 'that you must accept me or be ugly' if she only knew beauty fades like hubbly the self conscious issues would be few.
0
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 1:29 PM UTC
nelize
Make Up
Impression or suppression an utmost subconscious decision or an utmost practiced precision? to cover her natural moving canvas so he can see the physical bliss never mind the festering dangers that breed within her heart's cancers until the day her painted face is defied by time and space of an old ancestral rival time when death itself in arrival comes and leaves none in its wake evangelism; Cosmetics' new grace offered at every corner and place 'that you must accept me or be ugly' if she only knew beauty fades like hubbly the self conscious issues would be few.
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18
Bah! Getting older ***** with all the aches and pains and worries about growths and tumours, cancers and heart failure my prostrate is fine, thank you very much, but can you check this mole? this pain, this ache? this over impending sense of mortality knocking at the door? the late night harrowing discoveries guaranteeing no sleep until a call to the doctor, the cutting back on everything while increasing vitamin intake exercise, stress free times for self reflection and discovery of ailments and illnesses, inducing stress increasing heart rate, needing a drink to calm down but not too much, as the liver has already suffered enough the days advance into night and the night advances to day and before you know it it the sun sets one last time
0
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:45 AM UTC
ross
Reflection on Mortality
Bah! Getting older ***** with all the aches and pains and worries about growths and tumours, cancers and heart failure my prostrate is fine, thank you very much, but can you check this mole? this pain, this ache? this over impending sense of mortality knocking at the door? the late night harrowing discoveries guaranteeing no sleep until a call to the doctor, the cutting back on everything while increasing vitamin intake exercise, stress free times for self reflection and discovery of ailments and illnesses, inducing stress increasing heart rate, needing a drink to calm down but not too much, as the liver has already suffered enough the days advance into night and the night advances to day and before you know it it the sun sets one last time
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30
Offence has no real validity, Yet it is used to justify the taking of lives Is there one, that the world does not offend If so that person has not lived or felt, Warlords, rapists, racists, murderers and those who are cancers on society walk among us daily Those who profess to know the will of god and act on his behalf, Perceiving  and executing unhelpful dogma that infects our reality   The words respect and correctness have become harbingers for cowards, As our muteness silently strips us of our freedom, Apologies are offered gift wrapped in fear Sticks and stones still break our bones but pictures and words now **** us**
0
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
patrick-n
Off the fence
Offence has no real validity, Yet it is used to justify the taking of lives Is there one, that the world does not offend If so that person has not lived or felt, Warlords, rapists, racists, murderers and those who are cancers on society walk among us daily Those who profess to know the will of god and act on his behalf, Perceiving  and executing unhelpful dogma that infects our reality   The words respect and correctness have become harbingers for cowards, As our muteness silently strips us of our freedom, Apologies are offered gift wrapped in fear Sticks and stones still break our bones but pictures and words now **** us**
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11
I’m the son of my Mum, product of Dad- just with his mid seventies look instead. Sown and grown in a house from the past, fixed by the full swing of the can-do and will do, not by the we’ll get through or the **** you*. ****** by the plum tree because its root system sat lower than the toilet seat, in the downstairs bathroom, working radiator- never any heat. Tantrums on the second step because bad-mannered children never want what they get. But in hindsight, and I’ll admit, they were doing it good, doing it right, doing it by the book printed in black and white.   Nothing but rocks and stories where I’m from: pebbles in the path between the herb garden grass; box hedge borders that’ll protect and last; stone walls hiding cancers and dangers, unwanted gifts from door-to-door strangers; postmen in shorts with their all-weather legs; women up the road with their cool-box eggs; neighbours behind curtains hiding help not guns; children in the street, they’re somebody’s loved ones. I’m the son of my Mum, product of Dad- just this time round tall, grateful and glad.
0
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
tim-knight
PEBBLES IN THE PATH
I’m the son of my Mum, product of Dad- just with his mid seventies look instead. Sown and grown in a house from the past, fixed by the full swing of the can-do and will do, not by the we’ll get through or the **** you*. ****** by the plum tree because its root system sat lower than the toilet seat, in the downstairs bathroom, working radiator- never any heat. Tantrums on the second step because bad-mannered children never want what they get. But in hindsight, and I’ll admit, they were doing it good, doing it right, doing it by the book printed in black and white.   Nothing but rocks and stories where I’m from: pebbles in the path between the herb garden grass; box hedge borders that’ll protect and last; stone walls hiding cancers and dangers, unwanted gifts from door-to-door strangers; postmen in shorts with their all-weather legs; women up the road with their cool-box eggs; neighbours behind curtains hiding help not guns; children in the street, they’re somebody’s loved ones. I’m the son of my Mum, product of Dad- just this time round tall, grateful and glad.
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40
Flashing numbers; this isn't a binary sequence but the universe has got me wondering. 01001011010101011 combinations of 2 create infinitesimally complicated creatures, craters, croutons, castrations, cancers, colons, concretes, convulsions, corn-cobs. 'Where is my mind' by the Pixies; wish I'd never heard it before. No simile metaphor for what's next, swooping ultraviolent. Almost like skin being ripped off so I'm nothing but bone and muscle. 'With your feet in the air and your head on the ground,' the dam snaps and floods my Amsterdam cheeks like New Orleans; scrambling for roof I drown. Scrambling for roof I drown. 'Try to trick and spin it, yeah,' polka-dots and floaters; bacteria in my eye dives into the ocean and makes me wonder which flew bottom and rounded-dust to eat ***** on sea-floor. 'Your head will collapse, but there's nothing in it, and you'll ask yourself,' mashing cellphone numbers now; mashing cellphone needed now dad pick up please pick up worlds end pick up mom pick up I need to know I'm real I need to know there's truth, 'where is my mind? Where is my mind? Whee erre is my mind?' the world fades into itself and what crosses mind is death but no, why? No, need. Dad picks up to my heaving sobs. Rational, collected. Collect call. World freezes.
0
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
tread
an ode to the panic attack.
Flashing numbers; this isn't a binary sequence but the universe has got me wondering. 01001011010101011 combinations of 2 create infinitesimally complicated creatures, craters, croutons, castrations, cancers, colons, concretes, convulsions, corn-cobs. 'Where is my mind' by the Pixies; wish I'd never heard it before. No simile metaphor for what's next, swooping ultraviolent. Almost like skin being ripped off so I'm nothing but bone and muscle. 'With your feet in the air and your head on the ground,' the dam snaps and floods my Amsterdam cheeks like New Orleans; scrambling for roof I drown. Scrambling for roof I drown. 'Try to trick and spin it, yeah,' polka-dots and floaters; bacteria in my eye dives into the ocean and makes me wonder which flew bottom and rounded-dust to eat ***** on sea-floor. 'Your head will collapse, but there's nothing in it, and you'll ask yourself,' mashing cellphone numbers now; mashing cellphone needed now dad pick up please pick up worlds end pick up mom pick up I need to know I'm real I need to know there's truth, 'where is my mind? Where is my mind? Whee erre is my mind?' the world fades into itself and what crosses mind is death but no, why? No, need. Dad picks up to my heaving sobs. Rational, collected. Collect call. World freezes.
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31
A LAND OF HONEYED-PRAISES, FULL OF ARROGANT AND PRIDE, MALIGNANT ONE's, WITH AN UNCURED~ CANCERS. A WORDS AND PHRASES FOR THOSE WHO LOST IT'S SENSE IN PUBLIC ~SERVICE. IT'S NOT YOU? REALLY? HA! PHILOSOPHY DOCTOR? MASTER OF EDUCATION? MASTER OF PUBLIC SERVICE? YOUR PORTRAIT HANG ON THE WALLS! NOT ONE! NOT TWO! NOT THREE! REALLY? BUT HOW MANY ARE YOU? MORE PEOPLE, YOUR CONSTITUENT HAD ALL A DECADES OF BROKEN~ DREAMS, THAT SHATTERED  INTO PIECES THEIRS TEARS? IS NOT ENOUGH ... TO FILL UP YOUR CUPS, AND EVEN CAN'T  ADD UP YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! EDUCATIONS MAKES SENSE RIGHT! CAN'T ARGUE WITH YOU THEN..., BUT IT ALSO MAKES YOUR FACE~CENTS. A NECKLACE OF YOU PRIDE, MY DEAR, DEPED DAVAO DE ORO EDUCATORS. (Division Office) OH~SILENT AND ARROGANT WHY? YOU PERMIT THE BROKEN~CULTURES EVEN THE TOXIC, GO FAR BEYOND MY LINES. SORRY, I FORGOT AM NOT A LICENCE, POET. DID I NEED TO GET ONE? OR TO PAY YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! O'  COMO'N SORRY DEAR MAAM, AND SIR's I LOST MY APPETITE FOR GRAMMARS, SA , BISYA PA "TULA NI OR DELI" TO, MY  DEAR READER "NATIVE LANGUAGE" DEPED~DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) O~ DEAR INSTITUTION THANKS FOR EDUCATING US FOR ME TO LEARNED ENGLISH FOR A WHILE AH, NOW YOU AWAKEN ME, OH, MY SENSE OF CAPTIVITY. THIS, UNJUST INSTITUTIONS CAUSED VEXATIONS TO YOUR DEAR GRADUATES, AND THOSE SPIRITED~ONES. DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) ARE YOU AN INSTITUTION OF UNJUST & UNWISE GIVING BREED OF CENTS~EDUCATORS? AH, SORRY, IT HARD TO GIVE THE WORDS SENSE, OF YOUR INSTITUTION. DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO YOU LOST YOUR WAYS YOUR MASTER DEGREE's & PHD's EVEN BLOWN ~UP WIDE. SIDE -BY-SIDE! OH~STUPID THINGS AND THE ARROGANT's WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY! YOU CAN FIND THEIR NAME's IN THE HALLWAY OF GALLERY AH, COMO'N THIS IS NOT A POET OR  A SONG EITHER. WHAT's, IS THIS?! SORRY, MATE.... THIS IS PART OF ME, WHO HAVE LOST AND WANDERED. REALLY? ABOUT WHAT? FOR THE DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) WHERE? &  WHAT COUNTRY MATE? IN THE PHILIPPINES, MATE. WHAT NOW, MATE? JUST NOTHING. JUST, A HELL OF ONE PROVINCE MATE. GOOD TO KNOWS, FOR THEIR ******* MATE. YOU KNOW,  MATE? WHAT? SEC.  LEONOR BRIONES IS ONE OF OUR COUNTRY BEST EDUCATOR. THE WISE~LADY MATE? YOU RIGHT, MATE! HOPE, SHE VETTED.
0
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 9:05 AM UTC
ferdinand-panerio
DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO
A LAND OF HONEYED-PRAISES, FULL OF ARROGANT AND PRIDE, MALIGNANT ONE's, WITH AN UNCURED~ CANCERS. A WORDS AND PHRASES FOR THOSE WHO LOST IT'S SENSE IN PUBLIC ~SERVICE. IT'S NOT YOU? REALLY? HA! PHILOSOPHY DOCTOR? MASTER OF EDUCATION? MASTER OF PUBLIC SERVICE? YOUR PORTRAIT HANG ON THE WALLS! NOT ONE! NOT TWO! NOT THREE! REALLY? BUT HOW MANY ARE YOU? MORE PEOPLE, YOUR CONSTITUENT HAD ALL A DECADES OF BROKEN~ DREAMS, THAT SHATTERED  INTO PIECES THEIRS TEARS? IS NOT ENOUGH ... TO FILL UP YOUR CUPS, AND EVEN CAN'T  ADD UP YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! EDUCATIONS MAKES SENSE RIGHT! CAN'T ARGUE WITH YOU THEN..., BUT IT ALSO MAKES YOUR FACE~CENTS. A NECKLACE OF YOU PRIDE, MY DEAR, DEPED DAVAO DE ORO EDUCATORS. (Division Office) OH~SILENT AND ARROGANT WHY? YOU PERMIT THE BROKEN~CULTURES EVEN THE TOXIC, GO FAR BEYOND MY LINES. SORRY, I FORGOT AM NOT A LICENCE, POET. DID I NEED TO GET ONE? OR TO PAY YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! O'  COMO'N SORRY DEAR MAAM, AND SIR's I LOST MY APPETITE FOR GRAMMARS, SA , BISYA PA "TULA NI OR DELI" TO, MY  DEAR READER "NATIVE LANGUAGE" DEPED~DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) O~ DEAR INSTITUTION THANKS FOR EDUCATING US FOR ME TO LEARNED ENGLISH FOR A WHILE AH, NOW YOU AWAKEN ME, OH, MY SENSE OF CAPTIVITY. THIS, UNJUST INSTITUTIONS CAUSED VEXATIONS TO YOUR DEAR GRADUATES, AND THOSE SPIRITED~ONES. DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) ARE YOU AN INSTITUTION OF UNJUST & UNWISE GIVING BREED OF CENTS~EDUCATORS? AH, SORRY, IT HARD TO GIVE THE WORDS SENSE, OF YOUR INSTITUTION. DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO YOU LOST YOUR WAYS YOUR MASTER DEGREE's & PHD's EVEN BLOWN ~UP WIDE. SIDE -BY-SIDE! OH~STUPID THINGS AND THE ARROGANT's WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY! YOU CAN FIND THEIR NAME's IN THE HALLWAY OF GALLERY AH, COMO'N THIS IS NOT A POET OR  A SONG EITHER. WHAT's, IS THIS?! SORRY, MATE.... THIS IS PART OF ME, WHO HAVE LOST AND WANDERED. REALLY? ABOUT WHAT? FOR THE DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) WHERE? &  WHAT COUNTRY MATE? IN THE PHILIPPINES, MATE. WHAT NOW, MATE? JUST NOTHING. JUST, A HELL OF ONE PROVINCE MATE. GOOD TO KNOWS, FOR THEIR ******* MATE. YOU KNOW,  MATE? WHAT? SEC.  LEONOR BRIONES IS ONE OF OUR COUNTRY BEST EDUCATOR. THE WISE~LADY MATE? YOU RIGHT, MATE! HOPE, SHE VETTED.
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