"cartel" poems
If you know the tale of El Chapo,
You know then what will befall
Even the person who's known as
The most famous drug lord of all.
Exporting more drugs to America
Than anyone else in the past,
El Chapo lived like a king
On the millions of dollars he amassed.
You didn't mess with El Chapo.
Woe betide you if you did!
Not only would you suffer,
So would your spouse or your kid.
Back in the 90s El Chapo
Found himself in a scrape
And landed in a Mexican prison,
But he found a way to escape.
A protracted stay in the slammer
For him was not in the cards:
He bought his way to freedom
By bribing the prison guards.
For thirteen years El Chapo
Evaded capture and hid.
He kept up his shady dealings
While trying to stay off the grid.
Authorities in Chicago
Gave this man on the run
Notoriety as Public
Enemy Number One.
In 2015 the drug lord
Was back in prison again.
This time he fled through a tunnel
Dug by some of his men.
One day marines closed in.
They thought they'd caught their man.
El Chapo held a child
In his arms as he ran.
Soon El Chapo got sloppy.
No one could catch him, he thought.
Alas, the marines tracked him down.
Back to a cell he was brought.
Now the Americans want him.
Extradite him, they say.
El Chapo will be an example
To show that crime doesn't pay.
So, say good-bye, El Chapo,
As you sadly wipe your tears.
We hope you like your new home;
You're going to be there for years.
Yes, say good-bye, El Chapo,
To your Sinaloa Cartel.
A maximum security prison
Will be your new citadel.
- by Bob B
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
The women in Pakistan are all dead
Men are hungry,
butter their bread with lead
Cartel gang **** death in Venezuela
Girls bleed, crying
Shadowed figure screams "Impale her!"
America hates women
Women love America
Generalisations of a generally confused man
Man jumps from UK office block
Painted tarmac,
because she refused to simply **** his ****
******* figure hangs from a tree in Japan
Aokigahara hikikomori,
The human condition destroyed this man
Single father, taking his daughter to a park
Accused by a stranger,
Jumping to a conclusion, rather dark
Hooded man runs the world
Masked by power,
Money is bigger than Jesus
Knowledge destroys prejudice
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
A mob boss for president…
Yikes! That's what we've got--
One who profits from crime
Without a second thought;
Who keeps his family close by;
Who's close to each paisano;
Who looks less like a Lincoln,
And more like Tony Soprano;
Who praises convicted felons,
And pardons them as well;
Who cares less about country
And more about his cartel.
Loyalty is his mantra.
His underlings owe him all.
He sounds like a mobster when
His back's against the wall.
He'll rip you a new one if
You ever decide to flip
And prove that you're a rat,
Or try to give him the slip.
"Flipping should be illegal,"
He brazenly repeats.
Without it he knows there'd be
More crooks on the streets.
A power-hungry bully:
It's his goal to be one.
Listen to his rhetoric:
"I know a rat when I see one."
His fixer threatens reporters
And does the boss's bidding.
But when he seeks revenge,
The boss isn't kidding!
Driven by ambition,
Egomania and greed,
He lets mob ethics guide him
To always take the lead.
He's the kind of guy
You read about in books.
Watch how he surrounds
Himself with other crooks.
Those who cooperate
With law enforcement will find
That he retaliates
If ever he's maligned.
Top decision maker,
He gets such a thrill
Promoting or demoting
Anyone at will.
Having a no-good mob boss
As leader strikes a nerve
Because it's hard to accept
That that's what we deserve.
-by Bob B (8-25-18)
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
The black, iron God arm punched
placid-blanched clouds, and dangled
cat cable down to lemon-vested men
with chalkboard faces.
*Basic algebra, today's date, daily
syllabi, God-fearing anecdotes,
and the evils of homosexuality.*
Fornicating with other dudes
is like moving Jesus' rock
with your condom'd *****
Let sleeping dieties die.
We find them buried deep beneath
**** ceramics by T.V. criminals,
rapists, murderers, buzzers, free-
lovers, angelheaded sweethearts.
They have nearly four dollar souls,
barely enough for a Wilpo dinner
at Hepburn Diner. #2 breakfast
with one cup of Columbian cartel
coffee with a pinch of whole milk
to take the edge off, so he won't
be gripping the booth vinyl when
a "freedom" flash cop car passes.
Police cruisers are just bigger bicycles
that we're afraid of, sporting cereal
box baseball cards in the spokes.
Cops were the kids that needed help
their first time fresh off training
wheels. Training academy training
them for low-speed cat chases through
flower beds.
Sweet daffodil, you didn't have to die
like this. You could've drank straight
from the pitcher at a stranger's dinner
party potluck, seen the guts of a New
York highrise, shared the coke left
beneath a woman's botched nose job.
You could have been more than this.
You could have been more.
You could have been.
You could have.
You could.
You.
You, daffodil, stamen-down
in Miracle Gro and dog ****
could have been more.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
** ** **
Hoes be everywhere yo
I soar above a city so naughty
Inside of my flying Bugatti
I land atop the cityscape
In fear of my **** getting *****
I slip my keister down the chimney
With a present prepared for lil' Timmy
As I reach the bottom my muscles freeze
And I realize there is no milk and cookiez
Bullets fly and my suit stains red
The cartel had found me and now I'm dead
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
alarm
dogmatical snakebird dictator
**** rooster of electro maniacal damnation
wake
goober eyed ithyphallic mortal yahoo yawns
glacier shuffle to Midas’ bowl
brush
minty hairy pasty headed ********
seafoam ***** on white vanity beaches
shave
deceitful murderous metal cartel scraping
dead shrubs from yesterday’s winter
breakfast
egg flour chalk smack
guzzling bean kerosene
work
batshit bureaucratic badgers bludgeon
muktuk hamsters lubricating wheels of fortune
lunch
butcher’s dead friend between greasy toasted cement
harlot’s heavenly tomato mating cabbage cousin
work
taradiddle of martyrs at jargon’s temple blather
babble, bumble - copulation without ***********
dinner
unicorn steaks, butterfly sauté, and
leprechaun fingers, a side of manslaughter dolphin
sleep
a felon’s holiday
repeat
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 3:56 AM UTC
If I listened to every advertisement
hollering through the static
of my cable-hooked television,
I'd have a mammoth bottle
of Hidden Valley Ranch
sitting with the ego-quenching sheen
of recommendation in my fridge,
a Weight Watchers membership
(it told me to join as soon as possible
with the speed of a steroid-devouring treadmill),
Children's Tylenol
(despite being situationally barren),
and a Bowflex-shaped elephant,
ivory tusks slumping uselessly in the corner.
My living room would be the fraternal twin
of the American Smithsonian,
a faux-genuine quilt
of our Founding Fathers'
present day descendants
draping over my popcorn ceiling.
I return to the latest
sacred cow in the flea store
cartel of Lifetime Movie heroines;
it's "Vengeful Vixens Sunday"
and Elizabeth Berkley shooting men
and stabbing women in the back
all while eating buckets of Ben and Jerry
and getting addicted to crystal ****
The dialogue is as freshly
packaged and slovenly edible
as the Minute Ready Late Night Dinner
with a cartoon grandma plastered on the logo,
all to remind you of down home,
or in the case of this Lifetime screenplay,
a time when the brain wasn't fully developed.
Same difference.
We all hide our guilty pleasures
as if our tolerance for the
secondhand existence of these favorites
were deemed malignant
by a cardboard kingdom
of young adult sophistication,
but I ask you:
who hasn't slipped into the comfort
of a mind turned to mush?
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:55 AM UTC
Colombian drug lords, so
fearing the dog's superlative
abilities, put a hit out on the
medal-winning K9 agent
Colombian drug cartel has put out
a $70,000 hit on a drug-sniffing
German shepherd after she helped
authorities discover nearly 10 tons
of the group’s *******
Sombra “Shadow” in English,
has since been relocated by authorities
after the Urabeños, considered
Colombia’s most powerful criminal
organization, put the price on her head,
reported the BBC on Thursday;
the 6-year-old canine having an
incredibly successful career as a
drug sniffer thus far; having
uncovered a record amount of narcotics
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
1. If you aren't moving your hands while telling a story, it's a boring ******* story. Add in something to make it exciting, like a chance encounter with a tiger. So what if no one believes that tigers walk down 5th avenue, at least your story doesn't **** any more. You know whose story ***** now? That ******* who doesn't believe a tiger can make it in the big city.
2. Make bad mistakes every once in awhile. How will you know that you don't want to be part of a Colombian Drug Cartel unless you try it out for a few weeks? Who knows, maybe you'll find out it's your true calling. Maybe you'll stage a coup, take over the whole thing and get the hot girl in the red dress. But no, you're sitting at your computer reading this. My point is, drugs are bad ok?
3. Don't be that guy who thinks he's better than everyone else because he always "does the right thing". You know why he's never made a mistake? Because he doesn't have a real life. His life is as real as a Ken Doll's unmentionables. Yeah it's all smooth and shiny, but he can't have any fun with it. What's the point of having a life that can't be potentially ruined by terrible decisions?
4. Take chances. and I don't mean by putting "Piccolo Pete's Face Burning Tabasco" on your hotdog. I mean walk up to the next girl you see and give her a passionate kiss the likes of which she hasn't had since 3 days ago when she drunkenly made out with some random dude at a bar. Yeah, you may feel like you've just been kneed in the groin and/or maced multiple times in the eye...but you know what? You just made out with a beautiful woman, and you've got a good lawyer.
5. Don't take advice from people you don't know. Especially some random person on the internet, those people are just shady.
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
vyvanse, at last, my chance to be
alive, to do, to finish all my
projects, **** I love this job,
I want to dig it all day long
ritalin, my only friend, you'll be
there till the very end, I know
that I am happy now, I
think that I have meaning now,
I wish you wouldn't bring me down, I wish I weren't
running out
adderall, yeah that's my ****
when addie's there, agree with it,
I'll never stop this addie binge, I know that
I don't have to quit,
my doctor tells me "this is it",
my dealer tells me "this the ****
I'm happy now it's safe to say the
war on drugs will end today,
amphetamine's the bread we break, the
wedding band that's been exchanged
between this government-sanctioned
pharmaceutical cartel
and the DEA
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC
The sound of silence.
Peace after violence.
A mother’s browbeaten servitude.
A child’s coerced gratitude.
The world’s most prosperous nations.
Architects of the most dangerous machinations.
Economies like never before;
A life that still leaves you wanting more.
The embezzlement of public finances.
The settlement of a case’s nuances.
Two colluding entities declaring each other free of ******
With ease, starving YOUR wallet until YOU are down on your knees.
The oath: ‘to protect and serve.’
The reality? ‘To suspect and unnerve.’
A cartel that’s in charge of the guns;
Like leaving a brothel in the hands of Huns.
The lie of representation in government.
The election, expectation of endowment.
Spending your life washing your master’s feet,
Then somehow being surprised by their trickery and deceit.
The mistake of prioritising convenience.
The finalising of our own, eventual obsolescence.
We are a species that will die
Clueless of our role in it, desperately asking ‘why?’
When it’s way too late.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
I always carry a pen in my pocket.
I watch I Love Lucy reruns when I’m upset.
Chocolate is my obsession, my “péché migon.”
I listen to quiet chatter and music without lyrics when I’m trying to focus.
I am far from a picky eater, but I cannot stand ketchup or licorice.
Watching Gilmore Girls religiously for five years taught me that life is too short to talk slowly enough for people to understand you.
I find the world hilarious.
Making it easy for people to laugh with me is my goal.
I ogle over Ducky from Pretty in Pink with my best friend every time I need a reminder that not all boys are ****
I want to walk down the aisle holding a bouquet of stargazer lilies, as my mom did before me, and I lose myself in Degas’ “L’étoile” every so often.
Burt’s Bees honey lip balm reminds me of my childhood Winnie-the-Pooh scratch-and-sniff book.
Every cup of Constant Comment tea, pair of jeans that fits perfectly, night spent listening to rain hit the roof, and run through damp grass with bare feet reminds me that life is beautiful.
Once, I ate so much pineapple I burned the lining of my mouth.
I cried the first time I heard “Save Us” by Cartel and saw the ending of Cyrano de Bergerac in French.
I am going to marry the genius who invented cinnamon brown sugar Pop Tarts.
Everyday, when I leave the house, I blow a kiss to the picture of Walter Payton my dad hung above the doorway to our garage.
When on vacation, my family and I buy pastries and coffee and walk in front of a jewelry store, attempting to recreate the scene from Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Life should be a little crazy most of the time.
I may seem difficult to live with, but I’ve shared a room with my little sister for fifteen years, and she only hates me sixty-three percent of the time.
I hope that you are up for a few good laughs and an extraordinary year.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
a journalist interviewed people
who survived jumping
from the Golden Gate Bridge
most reported that,
at about two thirds of the way down,
they realized that everything could be fixed
one way or another
in turn, if the others
had come to the same realization
then they died for nothing.
placing a bullet in your head
may be convenient if you're in a gang war
and there is no way out
but though there may be a war zone in your mind
no one else is shooting
it may feel as if a drug cartel
crossed the border into your brain
and there is a shoot out with the patrol
but you wont even be able to find a winner
one is just trying to supply product for profit
and the other is just trying to protect its people
but from what?
what are they running from?
why are you hiding?
one is committing a crime
the other is committing a crime
what are they fighting for?
what are you fighting for?
you think, if it goes quick
you can't regret
but it doesn't matter
this is just one of many battles
and you must keep fighting
this is the one war that must be fought
that must be won
you don't need to die for your cause
you need to live
you need to live,
not for others,
but for yourself.
i don't think you realize
that this isn't gta
if you spend $500 you're broke
and if you die you don't re-spawn
the exit sign may be glowing
but you have to take some damage
in order to rebuild yourself
please keep fighting.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
See simmering vats
of shoulders, elbows and knees,
A banner reads:
"Welcome to the joint stock company!"
A mule may melt your heart,
but the cartel will dissolve your family.
Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing in the banking secretly
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.
Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "you have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.
Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.
The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean into Pesos, that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing Dope and Cash from across the Midwest.
Approximately 70% of the US population lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in Eldorado
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of the America’
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers we call the Drug Gangsta's.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
To face the fear of being liquid, I go under, float the drift. Leave the boat behind, no worries. I am in no hurry to school with the rest, colorful parrot fish, at home in the depths.
I am not afraid of sharks materializing from the inked abyss. The nothing in their soulless eyes is just black-bottomed assessing - not one of us.
In a lazuli sea, the barracuda cartel tails me, their silver barrels rule the reef, leering grins glinting diamonds, hungry pirates seeking gold hidden in my tender lobes.
Yellow-bellied sea snakes swarm, their sinuously wicked heads disappear and reappear on ebb and crest of every wave, see their split tongues read the chemistry of each exhaled breath.
A swollen catch unsought. Forsworn. What's lost will be reborn. From within, yolk still tethered, resting on the bottom. Net a dying heart, return it to the deep, watch it roll and flutter, remember how to beat.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
I met this girl ‘til I was 6 years old,
What I loved about her that she had so much soul,
She said excuse me lil homie,
I know you don’t know me
my name is Iguala, and I like to grow trees,
and from that point I never forgot her at all
Guerrillas came to town, and we hid from them all
brothers like to act tough, but she knows they're soft
We used to mess with tourist and towed them off
When I grew up she showed me how to go downtown
In the nighttime her face lit up,
so astounding,
I told her there will be a place in my heart where she’ll always be
She never messed with men because they always leave.
She said, “It feels like they stomped, and rode on me”
They knew I was cartel affiliated, so they got up and told on me
Maybe that's why last month she got so cold on me.
She said, “Litos, keep your dreams shiny and gold for me.”
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
If you really cared about her
You would of never left her to follow your dreams
Sometimes I still talk to her
But when I talk to her
It always seems that she wants to talk about me
She said, “You left your friends, and they are just like you
they also have dream, and wanna succeed like you,
But they ain't you”
and I just got through
thinking about life,
this Litos is new
People always tell me that leaving her was wrong
I guess you never know what you got ‘til its gone.
“God put you here for a reason” and I can’t go back home
And guess when I heard that, when I was back home.
Every little talk I’m representing you, making your proud,
Reach for the Gods you land on the clouds
jump in the lake, wave your body around
If you don’t know by now
I’m talking about my Mexican Town!!!
Tell me when you're coming home again,
Do you think about me now or then?
Please tell me you think about me now, not then.
Come home so we can be friends again.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
Miami Vice – The Song – From First Kiss Rock Opera
The night was ringing, with violent sounds,
the echoes of turbulent dreams were flying,
being chased by villians, like foxes and hounds,
through the streets, hear the voices crying
seems he had been, a witness of crime,
he was offering his service to the city,
the cartel found out, he was taking the time,
his interventions would allow for no pity
duck your heads, run for the cover,
these beasts of violence, will sure take your life
hide with the Feds, save your lover,
be wary of traitors, they cut like a knife
the wailing of sirens, tear through the night,
warnings of immanent danger for you,
seek out the dark, stay out of the light,
you and your lover with your love so true
duck your heads, run for the cover,
these beasts of violence, will sure take your life
hide with the Feds, save your lover,
be wary of traitors, they cut like a knife
Still thinking of that First Kiss ….
Gomer LePoet
Apr 22, 2010
Apr 22, 2010 at 8:39 AM UTC
Quiet, dawn, Covid.
Biggest accomplishment yesterday: buying toilet paper.
Thanking the young cashier for doing her job.
Feeling a little sick, wearing my mask and gloves,
Spring oblivious to the virus, an idiot like Millay said.
At least we’re not beheading each other—yet.
Symptoms mild so far. Today rest,
no long walk, no knee bends.
I think I’ve watched every possible movie and tv show
and nothing’s left that doesn’t bore me.
I could learn the calculus, chemistry or physics
but will I and what for?
Most poetry is chopped up prose. That’s harsh
but true. But that’s because most days
are prose or yesterday’s news. Win or lose
sumthins gonna getcha. Drug cartel assassin, the blues.
If not now, when? Some other Wednesday. Why wait?
I wish I had some wisdom to translate.
It’s living and helping others to live
that counts, I guess. Cast a cold eye and guess,
walk the extra mile, report from the besieged city, be wise or a ****
I hope to get the antibodies the easy way,
mild symptoms, no brush with death, don’t intubate.
An existential bessemer process, strange quark,
chances are I won’t be able to organize this day into an expressible state.
A daily exchange with nature’s enough
to alleviate my fear.
When I thanked the cashier
her smile was like the sun coming out from behind clouds
or the end of the pandemic, as if I had not wasted my life.
Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 8:38 AM UTC
I, Jack Gladstone (hereafter referred to as i),
Being of at least some form of mind and body write the contents of my day.
Set the scene:
It’s cold, it’s the winter and it’s cold.
It’s cold outside, it’s cold inside unless, of course, you’re wearing a sweater.
If you’re wearing a sweater you are just precisely over the border of Toowarmopolis
(population: i).
Int. an oddly nice community college library,
excellent when you consider the town it is in is occasionally the **** capital of Iowa (Ottumwa).
The main contender is nearby and is actually the other main campus for this said college (Centerville).
Coincidence? Is Indian Hills based on **** money? Is the administration a cartel?
To answer these questions in order: yes, doubtful, and of the textbook variety alone.
i sit with the courtesy headphones on listening to the Shins.
i, obviously, work on poetry assignments.
i work on my computer class.
Office is not as i remember it. It’s changed. It’s different. What means what?
i panic.
i realize it’s silly to panic.
i panic anyway.
i remind myself it is silly to panic.
i regain my composure. No one noticed.
i think.
i miss toolbars. i miss clippy. i miss words instead of symbols.
Is this what being old is like?
I’m far too young for that.
If this is me now what will i be like when I’m elderly?
Living in a world of holograms, infocubes, the wikimplant.
i lied about regaining composure before. i do that sometimes, lying i mean.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Notice how the whisper dies
When strangers near a gathered few,
How laughter dwindles in the air
Where yesterday, free breezes blew.
Our public forums disappear
Like dominoes, they fall in turn
And each in turn consumes a truth,
Like ******* in a flame they burn.
And everyone’s opinion fades
As nervous glances flit the room,
A menace in the silence felt
As whispers hush, suspicion looms.
The banks call in the mortgages,
The Cops demanding hard
The language of the press subdued
And every one’s on guard.
And the failing economies
Across the whole globe,
And contrived **** happening
With oil price hikes disrobed.
Grinning cartel monopolies
Who manipulate fare
To cause catastrophic collapse
In the market elsewhere.
Government’s tone has altered
From homilies of home,
(God bless our land & honour the flag)
To harsh Corporate drone.
Big Money’s in the mix you see,
Pharmaceuticals and Big Oil
And the Military have the casting vote
In cashing up the spoils.
How has it all come to this ?
Where have our freedoms fled ?
If they ever really did exist
Were they... only in my head ?
Restricted private ownership
With travelling curtailed,
And the information black out
Shows the freedom press have failed.
But the repetitious broadcasts
Which they want us all to hear,
And the droll propaganda
Which confuses the ear,
Those brainwashing dogma’s
Which stifle the mind,
Oppressing the rational
To keep we souls aligned.
Why, my friend,
On this bright summer’s day
Should my heart be bleeding
It’s freedoms away ?
Who sanctioned oppression,
Who opened the gate,
To admit the dark forces
Who thrive on the hate ?
Marshalg
Feeling the vibe of what is beginning out there...EVERYWHERE!
AUCKLAND
20 February 2011
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
i think of the romantics as the hippies of society. not that there's anything wrong with sitting in a VW van in a field of sunflowers listening to the Beatles and smoking blunts all day and night, im totally the advocate for that, but is that all there is? there's so much more, and it isn't all sunshine and rainbows like they teach you in kindergarten, and that's one of the biggest problems with the education systems throughout the world these days. we're sheltered. we're sheltered to no end. what would the kid that didn't know anything about police brutality or a drug cartel do the first time when he was ready to emerge into the real world? he would ******* **** himself because he was sheltered. and then the mental illness factor comes in, what would his friends do? they'd never been exposed to that, they didn't even know such a thing was possible. because they were sheltered. maybe the kids in his neighborhood would begin to get the same thoughts and **** themselves too because they thought they were ******* crazy for thinking the way they were because nobody ever told them that mental illnesses are nothing to be ashamed of and they're treatable and they don't make you a bad person. what makes someone a bad person is lying to someone by telling them everything will always be okay, because everything won't always be okay. and that's realism.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
En el café de Chinitas
dijo Paquiro a su hermano:
«Soy más valiente que tú,
más torero y más gitano».En el café de Chinitas
dijo Paquiro a Frascuelo:
«Soy más valiente que tú,
más gitano y más torero».Sacó Paquiro el reló
y dijo de esta manera:
«Este toro ha de morir
antes de las cuatro y media».Al dar las cuatro en la calle
se salieron del café
y era Paquiro en la calle
un torero de cartel.
1.1k
Frag
The same old feeling
The same old issues
By the same old feeling
Why do you still take it?
I ask myself each day
Better the Satan you know
The **** beasts me
Each and every day
I should’ve been a Marine
Than an army soldier
Day in day out
Same old ******* ****
I think I’ll frag my officer
When we are alone
Out in the bush
Say it was an accident
All the **** he gave me
Join the army
See the world
That **** is my world
Tonight I’ll frag him
Then take off cross county
The border is fifty clicks away
Join the cartel
Or go independent
**** the army
And their rules
Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 4:45 PM UTC