Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Words
"cheaps" poems
"Look around you" People are smiling, cheering their friends Lifting the spirits of those that don't dissent Carefree, responsible and respectfully mature While only the pauses from routine, work as my cure White light strikes the prism of my life Prisoner of time, I am a slave of my grief I'm blinded by your expectations and needs They are weighing down on my survivor's instincts I'm choking on my tears, I'm preying on my smile I'm dying every morning, I'm dying every night I'm strangling my desires to ever find peace I'm forcing every poison to be gulped in by me No music can help me, no art can sway me No rush can stop me from laying down to quit No rifle can shoot me, no knife can stab me And hope to **** a soul, but an empty vessel I sleep and I hope to wake up, no more I have lost all my passions to the mighty orders of bores I caution myself every day to never hope for hope For its a noose, to my shimmering eyes, swinging through death I can't live like this, I can't suffocate And smile like all my dreams are as my childhood left I can't accept the myopia of the world around me Ridicule of my desire to see myself as a work of art I can't stay mindless of the fact that all my friends are slaves I can't stay ignorant to the ease of creeps, cheaps and strays I am tired of keeping myself safe, with a silent venomous dagger I need someone to put my faith in and leap into the dark, forever
0
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
jalajsoni
The Dark
"Look around you" People are smiling, cheering their friends Lifting the spirits of those that don't dissent Carefree, responsible and respectfully mature While only the pauses from routine, work as my cure White light strikes the prism of my life Prisoner of time, I am a slave of my grief I'm blinded by your expectations and needs They are weighing down on my survivor's instincts I'm choking on my tears, I'm preying on my smile I'm dying every morning, I'm dying every night I'm strangling my desires to ever find peace I'm forcing every poison to be gulped in by me No music can help me, no art can sway me No rush can stop me from laying down to quit No rifle can shoot me, no knife can stab me And hope to **** a soul, but an empty vessel I sleep and I hope to wake up, no more I have lost all my passions to the mighty orders of bores I caution myself every day to never hope for hope For its a noose, to my shimmering eyes, swinging through death I can't live like this, I can't suffocate And smile like all my dreams are as my childhood left I can't accept the myopia of the world around me Ridicule of my desire to see myself as a work of art I can't stay mindless of the fact that all my friends are slaves I can't stay ignorant to the ease of creeps, cheaps and strays I am tired of keeping myself safe, with a silent venomous dagger I need someone to put my faith in and leap into the dark, forever
Continue reading...
29
on minimum wage, you can expect minimum work, yet it seems miniwage employers often demand so much. dish -do is meditation... but 7 hours straight without a scheduled break (illegal!) comes to be strangely therapeutic and unjust. my colleagues are more-than -decent.. they're especially strange, especially kind. the no-break hides itself in small-biz dialect as to owners barely break-even on weekly basis due, most likely, to competition from corporate conquistadors like McDonald's and Denny's.. the evil colonial powers of America looking to slowly realize manifest destiny in empty faceless formatted 'buy me's I'm cheaps' my boss is a failed artist, and one of the first things he said to me was this: *dishwashing ain't gonna cut it if you're really going to become a writer. I mean, don't up and quit on me, that'd **** me off and all.. but in the end, if you're gonna be successful at your art, you have to be willing to sacrifice everything.* he echoed the painful decision factor facing every challenged, authentic soul.. and I knew he was right. someday I would have to forget security-fear and embrace insecurity-love if I want to become who I am. everything must go.
0
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC
softcomponent
miniwage / maxilife
on minimum wage, you can expect minimum work, yet it seems miniwage employers often demand so much. dish -do is meditation... but 7 hours straight without a scheduled break (illegal!) comes to be strangely therapeutic and unjust. my colleagues are more-than -decent.. they're especially strange, especially kind. the no-break hides itself in small-biz dialect as to owners barely break-even on weekly basis due, most likely, to competition from corporate conquistadors like McDonald's and Denny's.. the evil colonial powers of America looking to slowly realize manifest destiny in empty faceless formatted 'buy me's I'm cheaps' my boss is a failed artist, and one of the first things he said to me was this: *dishwashing ain't gonna cut it if you're really going to become a writer. I mean, don't up and quit on me, that'd **** me off and all.. but in the end, if you're gonna be successful at your art, you have to be willing to sacrifice everything.* he echoed the painful decision factor facing every challenged, authentic soul.. and I knew he was right. someday I would have to forget security-fear and embrace insecurity-love if I want to become who I am. everything must go.
Continue reading...
26