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We all have something to disguise
beneath this corporeal face,
Something we keep hidden from all
social grace, some barbarities would
not fade, some malefactions are too great.

I do not condone the violence
of such furious vengeance,
There is no solace to be found in it.
That does not mean I cannot appreciate;

The Champion Nemesis.

Grand theft auto on a cold night,
But we're not playing video-games tonight.
With lights off but the engine on,
Roll out and get your gameface on.
Get to hunting right off the bat,
Play hide and seek with the grass.
Mow the lawn of low-lives who said
he'd gone to ground/wants to be found?
I'll catch up to you later
with my conversation starter
and her best friend.
Who's praying you'll defend
those feeble lies again?
Heard about a movement so we scoped it out,
Ditched the fiesta and came about.
Silent under the dark while on the hunt.
Found you now, [REDACTED CONTENT].
Told you I'd catch up later
with my conversation starter
and her best friend;
Watching you
spin your end.

"What a tangled web we weave
when first we practice to deceive."
-Line Thirty-Three and Thirty-Four from Marmion by Sir Walter Scott
Under the sheets of emotional armor,
A shy little girl masquerades as a martyr.
She’s the Queen of Deceit with her lies getting smarter,
While every tale told draws her self even farther
From finding out why she’s emotionally bothered
By all of the men in her life: like her father
Who only was trying the best for his daughter
And striving to be something more than a pauper
But coming up short. Who knows how much harder
He’d try if she wasn’t an argument starter?
The guilt and the shame from the family slaughter
Has made her insane and continues to bar her
From finding out just what the world has to offer.

Luckily she won’t have to be here much longer;
In fairy-tale land, there's nothing can harm her.

She suddenly finds herself all alone
With nobody’s thoughts to address but her own.
This is the time when she’d pick up the phone,
Demanding a savior to hear her bemoan
About all the problems that she’s ever known,
But what she doesn’t know is a friend can’t atone
For the lack of a man with his patience to loan
To a lost little girl whose bad temper is known.
All she needs is a strong one that doesn’t condone
All the treacherous lies and the hatred she’s shown.
It’s hard to deny all the reaping she’s sewn.
She’ll have to tread soft lest her cover is blown
And everyone finds out she still hasn’t grown
Through the hundreds of tempers and tantrums she’s thrown.
Hopefully soon she can bury the bone
And calm herself into a nostalgic zone
Where smiles and candles were filling her home
And love and affection were all that was loaned.

Enlightenment comes when you realize you’re prone
To the wrath of the heartache that comes with the throne.
Damsel in distress
Traveler Aug 2016
Dawn sparks with a silent scream
Drawn through the matrix into this dream
Without delay we gasp for air
The soul is invisible, the flesh is bare

What is life but an impending death
A drowning pool where we struggle for breath
We take it in but we can’t hold on
We fade like footprints out on the lawn

A fleeting moment this one night stand
From nowhere to somewhere and back again
Why can’t we remember, why can’t we forget
Why should we perceive the end as a threat

The essence of spirit merges with the physical
We search for meaning, we embrace the mystical
But in the end we fall asleep alone
Yet this one-night stand we gladly condone...
Traveler Tim

re to 2019
amme Nov 2016
This new age happy truth life ****, I dont condone it beacuse when life hands me lemons... I turn it into haze and smoke it, thats just how my soul is.
Happiness? too hard to control.
Ego? too easy to promote.
Life? too many do and donts.
I dont curse life but when you love something too much you have to let it go!


I cant afford to earn dough. Money on my mind but my heart changes flow. Went solo, had nobody swinging the ropes.
Didnt choose the thuglife so in my apartment stayin broke.
Smoking **** drinking coke slowly dying on my own.
Remeniss, think a while of everything from before.
Go to sleep with achievements setted out to score, wake up in my mothers home with nobody to call my own.
Everyday is a struggle to get through the door. Wake and bake or else my body's saying no.
NiTSUDD Oct 2017
Living little less than the right way
I've turned all my friends to stone
Weary legs carry me
To the river
Wash off everything I've known

I've seen dead flowers on the way
And crowds of people all alone
No charity tempts me
To deliver
Now stinginess I don't condone

And I don't want to roam
Too far from my home
Don't want to leave it all away
The world seems small
When you have it all
Oh I wish that I could stay

When I arrived the river had frozen still
Ole Neptune saw no other way
If I could only find a little time
To ****
I'd be out here all the day

And I don't understand
Why I'm branded where I stand
Don't think you know how it might feel
It doesn't take
Much for a heart this cold to break
Without a hope ever to heal

And when you hear these words
Next life my friend
I don't know where I'll be then
If there's one thing
This world has shown
We borrow everything we own

Oh to reap what I have sewn
Oh to reap what I have sewn
Oh to reap what I have sewn
Oh to reap what I have sewn
Aaron Feb 21
Is anyone real out there?
What a horrible question to tear
Apart this life,
Which always rhymes with strife
Because there's a limited number of ways
To say we're running short of plays
To fill these broken days

I don't think I'm better than anyone
I don't think I'm magically The One
But I also don't feel real
And here's the whole spiel

Maybe these bones are made to rust
At the intersection of fear and trust
'Cos all this pain is just reflection
Every fear is just projection
Insanity - I cannot condone
If we want to be free, do we have to be alone?

Whatever else is true, whatever ways I'll rot -
I truly love you; words are all I've got
The 4's attachment is being broken;
All that's expressed is just a token
I can only show the 2d shell
And so I Truly wish you well
But I'd sooner save you from this spell

Hey broken one: are you reading yet?
This is for you, so don't forget
The rhythm doesn't matter
All words will fade, left in tatters

And though this path we can't condone
I swear to you: you're not alone.
You're somewhere amidst the thought and ****;
I bid to you: please stop and look

The slightest difference between we:
I'm a permutation of thee
I know the things you cannot say
I, too, seek each shattered Way
Combing The NeverNever every day
For another reason to stay.

I know you fear you've fallen wrong,
But there's meaning in your song;
Long past the end of time,
What's true will shine through every rhyme.
Because I know you'll stalk me someday; the curiosity won't let you stay at bay.
I'm really not who I thought I was,
how do you move on with life
when you place it to pause?
I am the boss to my own mind,
but cower at each door it confines,
to condone the person I could be and
wrong the person I wish I was,
I'm the boss of my own mind
but a slave to what it does.
Died to a coward that
hides behind demands,
and the density of this reality is
what weighs my bones down,
some of you know what this is now.
What it means to be shackled
to what you hate,
here have a go at the scariest
things your head can make.
The thoughts that break
your heart but tell it to go
Running after something
you'll never reach,
and as I'm running forever
I can't move my feet
off this bed,
inside my head I'm growing tired,
so my eyes will never open;
and I'm hoping you know that I fear
when I get older my memories will wake
and it'll take me,
too late to save me.
Why bother even
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Traveler Feb 16
Dare you read this
And my truth be further known
I started out
The ******* child
A soul abused and alone
After four children
Of his own
I became the child
Father would not condone
The drunken *******
Was always ******

I found love out there on the streets
Always staying ******
With a young gang or
Friendly thief's
They taught me the ropes
How a city boy is supposed to cope
It's been
Eight years now, out of the pen
I look back and cringe
It all started in a place called
Traveler Tim
Women are often inspiration for beautiful things
For they are
Compared to stars, summer days and flowers even bird sings
This is par
For all these were made to entertain them
Created so alone would not be men
Not as servants but as equals
Better than the original, a rare sequel
Maybe we had it wrong
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Or shall I compare the day to thee?
In the end we find ourselves on our knees
Saying “take my hand please”
Ladies know your worth
“I’ll give you the world”
No you’re worth more than this earth
Find a soul it is forever
Here is mine, it is my pleasure
But do not take what is yours for granted
Knowing your own beauty you can become enchanted
The forgotten poems of gorgeous destruction
Compared to cold, dark and other disasters the planet consisted
But without you there is dysfunction
So thank you for your contribution
It makes life beautiful when the world is blurred
When we lose sight you are our restitution
Our lives together in this institution of love
This beautiful constitution signed in blood
We can make forever our home
So no longer do we roam
For I don’t condone giving away what you own
But I would give away my throne to avoid sitting alone
With a look at how a man feels
Change your perspective
Take the chance to know him
Now that you’ve heard tHis stupid little poem
-My Words
Wordsmith Oct 5
Blue ink was no friend
Blue ink was the most boring plan
For the trees and hills Suzy ran
When Mama came with a stick in her hand

For months and years Suzy despaired
This forced acquaintance she wished to be spared
This Hulk of a character Mama'd personify
This waste of time, she knew not why

I just wanna be free, Suzy lamented
An uproarious laughter, with which she was greeted
Why do you act all so tormented, said this voice
Without blue ink, you will be mistreated

How do you carve a path of your own
How do you enforce a right you wouldn't have known
How do you right a wrong you don't condone
How do you condone life when left alone

To the books and pages Suzy ran
Devouring much material in the given span
In a solid colour, she saw a world of wonder
In its simple strokes, there was no more to be coaxed

In happiness and despair, Suzy was elevated
In health and sickness, she knew to be liberated
In company and solitude, Suzy was educated
In wealth and poverty, she knew she had profited

Blue ink had granted her the highest of privileges
For to live well, is to live with choice
A coveted privilege, with which we rejoice
Outside Words Sep 2018
From freedom and serenity - forced back,
Within a heavy frame, I twist and turn.
Surrounded by darkness - sunlight lacks
Through peaceful ears, an alarm clock burns.

Feeling like someone once deceased,
I ****** myself from my tranquil sleep...

Stumbling to the kitchen, eyes half open,
I prepare my meal in a weary daze.
I will not dread today - I'm hoping,
As I race through traffic in my malaise.

Drinking in my last few moments,
I do what I must, but never condone it...

My interior seething from stress filled meetings,
These rules defeating - my lifeblood fleeting,
A blunt insanity from this calamity,
Through censored profanity, I scream "barbarity!"

Beneath the boots of automatic overlords,
We're trapped together - anxious and bored...

Our heads hang, our eyes bleed
Their talking styles belie their greed.
Our mouths move - connection we seek,
But we find our language strange and oblique.

Back home, on my couch, lethargic and pale,
Hypnotized by TV, my dreams turning stale…

A once free spirit, now a mindless drone -
My sense of identity is what they dethrone.
I assure myself, my soul will endure,
Friday at five, I’m told is the cure.

But, revolution’s muscle beats in my chest!
So, a simple existence, I imagine, my best.

This is my strife - I hate this way of life!
Words can’t explain the disdain in my veins.
So, I have no choice, but to use my voice,
To tell you all to your face, there’s no time to waste!

Everyday, I pickup my pen and face the end -
To light the fire, that from ashes, we’ll ascend...
© Outside Words
Emeka Mokeme Sep 2018
We are all strangers
here and must band
together for survival
in this bizarre maze
of a place where
deadly surprises lurk
around every corner.
Surveillance is mounted
to track everyone who
tried to escape
from the pack.
All these seeds of
discord and attacks
against each other
and people of other
faith is very disturbing.
It is really very
discouraging to know
that you have nothing
tangible to offer me
in particular about your
beliefs so I can
believe in your notions.
Your approach shows me
there's nothing in it
but hatred,
my heart and soul has
no place to harbor
or condone hatred.
Show me the beauty of
your heart so I can be
attracted to its light.
A happy soul has a good
and beautiful heart devoid
of anything evil.
Pure in itself with divine
effulgence that touch and
change lives with love.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
I am an escaped prisoner from barred disillusion,
A personable recluse fighting the illusion
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion.

I wonder how it is that I find optimism alone,
When collective pessimistic thoughts condone
The woeful tales that howl and moan.

I hear voices of people that aren’t there,
Yet find myself in calmness aware
Despite their tormented accusational affair.

I see ideals living and thriving out there
Even when apathy or indifference ensnare
Battered hearts and worn out minds in despair

I want nothing more than to ‘want’ so desperately
I hold onto desire so restlessly,
That I’ve tired the being of my entity,

I am an anomalous paradox captive to the sea
Where waters churn in active disharmony,
Yet comfort as it may my tranquility.

I pretend that I’ve already staked my global legacy
As if my words, thoughts, and feelings,
Have changed the world entirely.

I feel everything as I believe it should be,
Riding the waves of intensity
In emotionally humble serendipity,

I touch the stars in remote prose,
Wandering the vast expanses without close,
Wherever my mind goes, it goes.

I worry about the future of humanity,
As if I was merely here to watch observantly
From some unknown eternity.

I cry for those in silent pain
With fake smiles of disdain
Who dare not speak for thought in vain.

I am a quiet observer of the human condition
Checking and balancing sedition
Though never granting my submission.

I understand the fallibility of the mind,
Gathering as many perspectives I can find,
Theorizing everything to which I’m inclined.

I say it’s all relative but it’s all relevant
Prone to be dominated by the prevalent
Missing the subtleties that are heaven sent.

I dream when I’m awake through my ideals,
Even when they’re still just spinning wheels,
Hoping they gain traction as time reveals.

I try to be better than the day before,
As that’s the best way to keep score,
When the world has us compared to others so much more.

I hope my legacy is genuine,
I regret nothing even when I sin,
As time wears down my wrinkled grin.

I am only human, to live and to die,
That’s about all we can be or rely,
And honestly this notion breaths me a sigh.
An I Am poem with a little twist
Terry Collett Nov 2018
They brought him
away from the Front;
his nerve or mind

or both had gone,
something his mind
could not confront

nor condone,
had turned him away
with that breakdown of sense

which no order
nor command
could comprehend

such slaughter,
such barbarity,
such blood-letting

along the line.
George sat in the ward
with other officers

in different ways
of wounded
in mind or flesh.

The sunlight brought
no peace of mind,
nor birdsong lift

the part of soul
from darkness depth.

Nurses came
and doctors too,
words said,

suggestions made,
but nothing much
in the end to do.

Spark's head sat
on the windowsill,
the eyes gazed

with a wide-eyed disbelief;
the smell of death
itches in nose,

constant smell,
and sound of shells,
shell on shell.
George hospitalised in 1916 with shell-shock
I do not Like
Valentine’s Day
It would Please
Just go AWAY

If you are
Married or in Love
Valentine’s Day
Comes from Cupid
Angels up Above

Deliveries to Work
The Gifts
Of Candy and Flowers
Evening Plans
Romantic Candlelight Dinner
Lasting for Hours
Followed by
Hugs and Kisses
And many
Sweet untold Wishes

However if you Are
Alone or Single
This Day is
An empty Heart
That sadly Tingles

One by One each Co-worker
Receives their Deliveries  
Their glances of Pity
Adds to my Miseries
Their words of Sympathy
Only deepen my Pain
Hoping for
This day to END
Before I go INSANE

A Day
Now Bitter Lonely Sadness
Are my
Only Grace

Hurtful memories of
Old verse New
Dinner for ONE
Instead of for TWO

I do not Like
Valentine’s Day
It would Please
Just Go AWAY

There was a Time
When I too Received
Many Deliveries
Before the days of Now
And my Miseries  

My Heart my Love
Did no come Home
Nor did HE
Call on the Telephone
No Hash Words
No Fight

I spent Valentine’s Night
Staring out the window
His behavior
I don’t

I Cried
Myself to Sleep
I Thought
Couldn’t be
More Bleak
Wondering is 
That of
A New young Wife!

He came Home
After a Night
At the BAR
He bought me Flowers
Left them in the Car

The next Day
Not a Word
between  Us

Retrieved From
When he Strolled
Through the Door

He brought IN
The Flowers
Putting them
In a Vase
You should Have
The look on My

Two Dozen Beautiful
Long stemmed ROSES
Like OUR Love
Empty and  Jilted

I  Took
A pair of Scissors
From the Drawer  
By the Bed
Cutting the Roses
At the Base
of the Bulb

I set Down
The Scissors
Placing Blame
My husband
Said Nothing
Only Hung
His Head

I made it Clear
I never want ROSES
On Valentine’s Day
Spoke of IT
What is the

I don't Like
Valentine’s Day
It would Please
Just go AWAY
Disputes all this
we have been married since 1985
(2019)  34 years married 36 years together
Hanson Yang Sep 2018
you'd know if ******* with you, you're only ******* with precise time
taking all that my heart can take, i'm losing pace so rerise mine
thinking that now that is true is that of the past is concedence of back
i'll ****** you ******* talking like if i didn't know my own being collectively, i warn your future like i say again, i'll ****** you ******* like ratting you out in packs
pack the steel rather than back was feel, what that, "I'll ****** you *******" like if mine was real
hype poppin **** like if was women was owned
i'll display the images of the future like sacred ideas of your own rabbit assed mind'll condone,
I'll ****** you ******* cuz it's a balance,
you feel pulse in ambivalence so stop poppin attitude cuz you're raising me wrong redeeming forgiveness in balance
you muthafuckahs gotta know you're living in soul like you were ever alive in my home
******* with all of my phones, i'll belt your *** like i owned every satellite sat saturn turned up when i'm burned up when you're ******* with all of my phones standin
capacity roam your tenacity's shown every capacity at being stolen of my life like all finalities owned
mistakenly like balance you're shortening truth as each different wife is being lied to indepently told
my capacity growth is closer to death now that my finalities owned
redeem it like i didn't reveal em ****:
so your now reading everything dear closer to you now cuz you're enlivening ****
Elle Jan 29
I will never forgive you, and how can I
You deprived him of his childhood, of his life
You took away happiness and locked it away in a box
You held his future in your hand and crumbled it
You put a barrier between him and the world
Soon his life was plummeting down towards an empty and cold dungeon, because of you
You already had your fight, and won
You broke his wings, and twisted them off him
Now you’re surrounding him with a wall of pain
Followed by the whip at the hand of your mercy
Day after hopeless day you stand aside and watch
You watch him struggling for every breath
And as each day goes on his will to live weakness
While yours strengthens
His misery became mine
And I had become drunk in my sorrows
But now I am sober
And I will not condone it, not anymore
I have my army of faith behind me
And we’re armed, you see
We have our helmet of hope
Our breastplate of love
And our sword of liberation
Bohemian Mar 25
With all the delights that this day has pumped in me,
I shall exhale,evaluating.
Nothing frights me though,
Yet at times my humility easily goes.

A fearless vagabond that I have turned into,
Even the merciless,to look into my eyes, does not dare.
I am in no haste,
Even my trots have the power to leap and make a thud such that everybody fall off their steps.

Your stares that I descry,
No more make a difference to me.
For I am immune and have no envy,fear,agitations,trepidations or gluttonous desires.
It is no shame,those sights be such a common thing and all the same.

I have no back story and none coming forth,shortly or in this life,
I don't hestitate to yell what many of you cannot spell.
For all the stabs faced,
Birthed a scabbard and a sword in one frame.

The truth could be my lingua franca,
Forlorn be the brethren of my creed.
Repressed and silenced are my alarms of seize fire over the border,
Mollifying and tranquilizing be a part of my duty.

To stand the repercussion of my sins counts in my atonement,
For it is never an evanesce,too late.
I fear no hell or purgatory,
For I have witnessed worse in some eyes.

Victimization is a poor retreat,
To harangue them and present self with an ode is no feat.
Patience is my dagger to time,
And threatening each other we walk rakishly hand in hand.

To trail back,
Is not for me that fatal.
I emancipate the baited,
And buster am I of existing parasites.

Liberty is my boundary,
I would dare not to annihilate a choice.
But I do not condone either,
For I hate to feel withered and there is no way I may let go.

I am relentless,
I would not mind if you address me as a bovine.
I am cathartic and hysterical,most of all a contributor here,
An energy straight from plasma,unsimplified.
Alex Evans Mar 5
christianized, zealous warmongers with ****** stains on stainless steel blades
hauling with them the great flapping insignias of royalty, emblems of their special heritage
disregarding the fact blood flows warm and fast all the same, nobody spared
familiar ties shattered over petty disputes of land and territory in the name of a great purpose
a great purpose disguising glory-seekers and painters whose favorite color is red
led by a massive snowy warhorse with crimson hooves and jet black beady eyes
old, worn, and of a raggedy golden mane forever worshipped
it is my fate to follow
(that’s what they tell me)

biblical storytales springing to life as they gallivant across the country singing do-goods
while their actions connotate some great demon lurking about behind their holy words
valiant warriors in service to a mighty omnipresent deity watching woefully from above
as they unnecessarily **** innocents that they knew it was wrong to ******
blind belief is as alive as bloodlust to them, screaming their lungs out for the almighty
they are the salvation and the scourge, leeches of the land and lordly leaders for long
fearful eyes of aliens stare to the sky and grovel in a piteous attempt for mercy
he cannot condone this
(and that’s what they don’t)

knights of cardboard armor and ironclad skulls falling by the thousands
yet they relentlessly hunt the enemy like predatory raptors of the past, voracious
not yet declawed or defanged as they are before the plastic wisdom of man claiming to be
the god of glory, gold, and gore; suddenly he is a savage ravager and avenger of the undead
men swear themselves to a cloaked idol in order to become accusers of the guilty
when the openness of perception may be all that is truly necessary
even kings are defenseless against the all-consuming force of religious blessing
how is it just?

god’s greatest success
god’s greatest regret
(am i both or neither?)
Traveler Dec 2018
A Vampire's Journal

So calm the city night
That quickens
The heart of stone
An awakening
Of immoral desires
The day will not condone

These neon nights
Never seem to dull
A thirst for excitement
At an endless beggar's ball

The power of magic
The star-struck eyes
The crystal moon
So high in the sky

The illustrious fashions
Of the filthy rich
The seductive lure
Which drives my itch

Such smells and sights
Has only the night
As I turn to the shadows
And take to flight

Here I am sacred
Here I am whole
The night sets the stage
For my favorite role ...
Traveler Tim

From an unpublished book I wrote.
AditiBoo Jun 16
I will not let another pen
Script the dialogues of my life
Muse me into its version of Mary Magdalene
Turn me into my biography's silent wife

So let it be said
Black on white
Rumours are not to be fed
Gossip will be rooted before its flight

Take your actions, make your bed
And sleep with whomever you want in it
Live by the rulebook you have written and  read
None will breach this intimacy to headline it

In times of solace, you stand alone
Comfort comes from your sense of self
So many unattended messages on your phone
When you decide to prioritise your mental health

They say stories are forgotten in time
But those are also the birthplace of legends
Say enough catchy verses that slyly rhyme
Create an ageless story from fraudulent confessions

Slowly, surely, steadily
The story is shared far and wide
Bored ears latch on hungrily
Passing it on with twitchy lips now preoccupied

Like an ill-fated game of telephone
Corrupt facts easily replaced by others
Listeners adorn themselves as judges and condone
Forgetting that fiction disguises the reality of another

Laptop screens populate with invasions of privacy
As public debates forget to respect any sense of secrecy
But let the story make you its main character
And feel how suddenly your own life becomes a disaster
SJG Sep 9
Jesus may well, for all we know, right now may,
Be decomposing in someone's shed.
And there is no heavenly sword or rotten mount
To reorganise the dead.
I find I'm smoking more, I find silverfish under my pillow,
I find strands of light emanating from cracks in the ceiling;
As if to say: "Do not mourn nor await something
That has already visited."

Because Jesus would not want for any person
To suffer as he did.
He would not fetishise his means of execution,
Or reign through organised institution;
To Jesus, there was nothing more wicked.

Because Jesus did not (and does not)
Sign autographs or hawk relics.
Jesus would not condone nation states, megachurchs,
Instruments of containment, or great swathes of capital
Invested into luxury apartments and drone technology.

(Every day, I lose a little weight.
A few pounds here or there.
I find my brain slowing down,
And my heart ceasing to care.

And if there was something between us, a universal language,
I would write down the things I was not and will not be,
And later, from you, your deficits I'd like to see.

Drag the river, until the bed is bare.
And all assorted junk treasures
Can once again, gaze back and stare.)

Because Jesus was not, and is not,
A wound across a palm.
Jesus was just another witness
Concerned by the mess of brief existence
And the little feeling things that come to harm.
Stíofáinín Apr 20
Take it all away again and don’t stop breathing
Who knew I could take all these beatings
I'm alive,
Only to decline an invitation to live in this situation
Where love is only conditional
I grow invisible
I can’t manifest and I can’t disappear
I just sit and wonder what the **** I’m doing here
You don’t need me, and that’s why you can’t see me
I'm fading but you’re see through
And this is just another hole I fell into
A pipe dream that that could never be true
Still, all I ever wanted was you
And one last time could never be enough
A million times I could tell myself it wasn’t love
But my mind is cursed…
Dissecting a situation
Trying to quiet the imagination
But you're too careless, and we’re just unkind
Only ever taping up these holes and leaving it all behind
You’re mind, a black hole ******* all that matters right from my chest,
You’re lies are like stains on my only white dress
Lies that live easy cause the truths no fun
Another round of bullets babe! Can you just hold this gun?
What good will it do now though? We're already alone
Somehow I always knew one day you’d leave home
Sin will go unconfessed
Mistakes, locked away in an iron chest
How were we supposed to ever confess
If you can’t see it then it's not real
But when was that ever part of the deal?
These are just metaphors, but here’s the feel bad,
These are your scars and your bags, and they’ll always be packed
So put on your little rouge act
But this is nothing but a comfort zone and it's all you can ever call your own
That’s all you can hope to know
And if you continue running it’ll be too late
A cycle in repeat that only ever ends in hate
Pushing everything aside
Beautiful creature, you never learned how not to hide
Time won't ever be on your side…
But these choices will be all your own, to own
So make a conscious one that we can condone
marian Jan 6
I was merely a speck of vitality

When I observed you all helpless inside a chanted yet broken record

Of conventionality rather than equality

Your ignorance, something I will never be able to afford

Perhaps I attempted to create my own forked tongue,

Succumbing to the toxicity of your belief that love cannot be reciprocated between
a certain two, who,

Despite your concern about the somatic,

Still fight to choose what makes them ecstatic

In fact you are in no place to voice such a strident stance,

When you do not have the slightest familiarity in the feeling of home being brought straight into your hands,

The feeling no type of discouragement could ever destroy:

Home as if it were after years and years away among the people of Troy

In some nights I could feel the loud beating of my heart so erratic,

And in some I found time seemed to stretch on longer than I would favour

But all I had to do was look into her eyes which were beyond cinematic

To be reminded of why these were the moments I would later most savour

I found it within my nature to stick the
debris that was a product of your odium

Into the the depths of my being, even beside my need for sodium

As a result I have outgrown multiple layers of skin,

After which my metamorphosis will begin

And at once without any resistance, I took flight towards the sky,

Because they often said the sky is the limit, I wondered why

And as I escaped into the realm of the pleasant unknown,

I had made the decision that this was the only measure of contentment I was to condone




I am free and most importantly, I am me
this is not my best and was written for my grade 11 AP english class but i wanted to put it up anyway
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