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"cruelness" poems
I have found myself related to Gomer; yes, I am also a hustler. She had relationships with different men, while I engaged myself with my own selfish plans. She slept with them for so many nights, while I slept with selfless thoughts, unaware it wasn't right. She had correlation thinking it was alright, while I linked myself with faulty motives and to it I delight. We were ****** in our different ways. Unrighteous deeds we both had praised. It corrupted her mind and body, while it made me a ********** spiritually. In the midst of my unfaithfulness and cruelness, I have found love and forgiveness. For love came down and bought me with a price, showed me the beautiful meaning of sacrifice. The blood of the lamb cleansed and restored my impure soul. An enough reason that makes me whole. -Steph Dionisio, December 02, 2015
0
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
® I Was A **********
A dream once was had-- for two to be equal, For this is the land of the free, Free for you; free for me. Often we hide our faces, as if we were the ones shamed. Instead of standing up with another, Repelling awful names. Silence has a power, often more than sound. Silence tunes your true voice, Silence shakes the ground. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. Young students go to school, all shades of different skin. We all threw rocks and names, Wanting equality was their sin. Did it matter? Their race was who they were. A few rose voices, Others’ silences were fists furled. What does it matter, of what color their skin? Here comes another battle. Here it comes again. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. If one was gay, would he not be a being? Should you let others mock? Does silence stop the grieving? No, the pain is still there, still loud. The silence is louder. Silence is all around. The names, the hate, all can be repressed. Silence is the fermata. Silence has the stress. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. What is the solution, to this lack of sound? Simple. Make it loud. A word of hope, ringing upon new ears. A word of sympathy, Erasing all the fear. A smile, a hug, a song, a dream, All to be had, All to be seen. Shout against repression, against hate. For we are all equal, All the same final fate. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. Stand together, as one. Make the stand. Stop silence, create music, Ring it through the land. With your words create harmony, create rhyme. Create thirds and fifths, Stronger than the flow of time. Why must we stand alone? Aren’t we all brothers? Did our ancestors fight? Protecting our dear mother? Hand in hand we’ll rise, voices speak as one. Cruelness and evil gone, Silence on the run. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. If we do not help each other, then who will assist? Together we will rise, Or fall together into the abyss. Gay or straight, or be it black or white, Whether you believe in god, We’re all human, right? We all feel, we all hear and see. We can all make words, We all breathe. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. So why must we be made different, called by our opinions or race? Why must we be judged, Simply by our face? No more, I shout. No more the hate. No more discrimination. This is our fate. No more injustice, social and the silence. No more acts of anger. No more senseless violence. Let brothers protect brothers, let friends be friends, For we are only human. The same mortal end. Let sisters love their sisters, let strangers be strangers no more. For we are only human. Our heart is our core. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. I will stand alone, if that is what it takes. I will raise my voice, Singing with quick haste. I will be the difference, the smile to the weak. I will help protect, Helping shield the meek. I will celebrate the differences, that make you and me. I will turn the lock, My voice will be the key. Soon my friends will join, creating a choir of light, Singing against the hate, Harmonies strike the night. Silence will not be my tool, silence is not my friend. I will make my voice count. I will make this hate end. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead.
0
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
Silence Marks the Dead
A dream once was had-- for two to be equal, For this is the land of the free, Free for you; free for me. Often we hide our faces, as if we were the ones shamed. Instead of standing up with another, Repelling awful names. Silence has a power, often more than sound. Silence tunes your true voice, Silence shakes the ground. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. Young students go to school, all shades of different skin. We all threw rocks and names, Wanting equality was their sin. Did it matter? Their race was who they were. A few rose voices, Others’ silences were fists furled. What does it matter, of what color their skin? Here comes another battle. Here it comes again. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. If one was gay, would he not be a being? Should you let others mock? Does silence stop the grieving? No, the pain is still there, still loud. The silence is louder. Silence is all around. The names, the hate, all can be repressed. Silence is the fermata. Silence has the stress. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. What is the solution, to this lack of sound? Simple. Make it loud. A word of hope, ringing upon new ears. A word of sympathy, Erasing all the fear. A smile, a hug, a song, a dream, All to be had, All to be seen. Shout against repression, against hate. For we are all equal, All the same final fate. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. Stand together, as one. Make the stand. Stop silence, create music, Ring it through the land. With your words create harmony, create rhyme. Create thirds and fifths, Stronger than the flow of time. Why must we stand alone? Aren’t we all brothers? Did our ancestors fight? Protecting our dear mother? Hand in hand we’ll rise, voices speak as one. Cruelness and evil gone, Silence on the run. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. If we do not help each other, then who will assist? Together we will rise, Or fall together into the abyss. Gay or straight, or be it black or white, Whether you believe in god, We’re all human, right? We all feel, we all hear and see. We can all make words, We all breathe. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. So why must we be made different, called by our opinions or race? Why must we be judged, Simply by our face? No more, I shout. No more the hate. No more discrimination. This is our fate. No more injustice, social and the silence. No more acts of anger. No more senseless violence. Let brothers protect brothers, let friends be friends, For we are only human. The same mortal end. Let sisters love their sisters, let strangers be strangers no more. For we are only human. Our heart is our core. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead. I will stand alone, if that is what it takes. I will raise my voice, Singing with quick haste. I will be the difference, the smile to the weak. I will help protect, Helping shield the meek. I will celebrate the differences, that make you and me. I will turn the lock, My voice will be the key. Soon my friends will join, creating a choir of light, Singing against the hate, Harmonies strike the night. Silence will not be my tool, silence is not my friend. I will make my voice count. I will make this hate end. Silence is the foe, when words need to be said. Silence is the killer. Silence marks the dead.
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114
I am adrift in a sea of both rhymes and alliteration. Of both lies and obliteration. Of both ties and obligation. I am adrift in a sea of both degradation and pain. Of both sane and insane. Of both space and plane. I am adrift in a sea of both ideas and emptiness. Of both of melancholy and happiness. Of both empathy and cruelness. I am adrift in a sea.
0
Feb 17, 2023
Feb 17, 2023 at 4:55 PM UTC
Adrift
Today is your birthday, spindle-top maid. Another year of desolate bridges. Bridges by us, once believed to be true, now laid to rest in mineralised brine. Though my desires have long since faded, small town streets will forever sing your name, calling, calling, for youth and infant love. Time may have set, but as with Giza stone you lay in evidence of what has been. And now, in years progressed, I tend to this, my page. Some hungover apology, for cruelness, that in ignorance, I wreaked. For, though in my life there is ugliness, and evil now apparent in this world; I have learnt through experience, virtue of kindness, of careful tread upon land. Oh, mother of Horus, and Christian slave, you bought me devotion in time of aid. I'm calling, calling, in meekness undue, for your sandstone likeness to hold in place. With time comes erosion, African wind, to scorch at the kindness, held to your breast. So, in fear of forced blindness, cynical waste; I mumble in this dirt-kissed prayer. God of knowledge, oh God of braying flock, bring to me your scripture, word of Thoth. All so I can deliver, all so I can sing; this tuneless ode of my redress, this humbled hope for spring.
0
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
Spindle-top Maid
The written word Should help us heal All it does is hurt By stating what we feel It's confusing, reading scribbles Knowing the authors heart Realizing it means nothing Typing your soul apart The ink splashed on paper Not really meaning a thing Just random rants About absolutely nothing Expressing your heart Exposing your pain To the cruelness of people With nothing to gain But hurting your soul And bruising your mind Someone who expresses truth Is way too hard to find In this blank world Where feelings are condemned Tears are weakness It's just better to pretend
0
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Better To Pretend
The written word Should help us heal All it does is hurt By stating what we feel Its confusing, reading scribbles Knowing the authors heart Realizing it means nothing Typing your soul apart The ink splashed on paper Not really meaning a thing Just random rants About absolutely nothing Expressing your heart Exposing your pain To the cruelness of people With nothing to gain But hurting your soul And bruising your mind Someone who expresses truth Is way too hard to find In this blank world Where feelings are condemned Tears are weakness It's just better to pretend
0
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Better To Pretend
As time goes on humans adapt in many different ways as all living things do. We grow intellectually, emotionally, spiritually but more often than not fears, doubts, insecurities, envies run rampant in our expanding minds. Toxicity, too, develops rippling out, engulfing anyone near in a flame of hate charring them beyond recognition. Adapting, hand in hand with survival, dictates we raise walls barriers to protect ourselves if only to withstand even more punishment, then repeat the cycle. But the thirst for animosity has to be quenched, leading to rampant searches for more and more ways to hurt each other. A propensity for cruelness overrides any potential at reformation, reconciliation or any sort of repairing all the tethers that have eroded away with vigor.
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
Toxicity
all i sense is alliance and all i feel is friendship all i love is likeness because an alliance is a kinship and all i hate is hostile all that weighs me is war and all i can't stand is cruelness i dont know what it's for
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
All I Sense Is Alliance
She was the one who shielded me from the cruelness of the world Taught me how to howl and leap at the dangers that are hurled She was there on all those sleepless nights And,we would stay up talking until the mornings light I learn to be the Alpha ,though she was always Beta She would shy from confertation, I have learn to bite its throat And, then sweet victory, I savor. I also learned down in my heart ,if I must ,I can make it alone the lone wolf on her own trail,howling at the moon ,never tucking her tail I want to say thank you for all that you are And, How I miss those midnight talks , now away we are,so far But, think of me as I know you do, before you lay to sleep Look up at that moon and give it a howl, a long one strong and deep And, I promise Mom, that I will to, give a howl furious Together always in our hearts.....Now that is Love Victorious!
0
May 8, 2010
May 8, 2010 at 5:51 PM UTC
Mother Wolf
There is a note that lives between thought and slumber, That’s when I thought of you today A harmonica lay in my hand, the reeds looking at me silly, Play, I imagined it say, and imagined it was really there. In my mind we are still walking a dusty bluesy road, our jeans torn and worn In this midday dream the blues is red and wore a hat; I let out: This, is not the blues from which my hippie son was born. I sigh, at the sight of a synthesizer kissing a harmonica, the synth in your head, the harmonica pregnant with my heart. Our blues drove us to momentary madness, because Syd Barrett was always jealous Like fights that happened on Sundays and when we choose to mock, then cruelness. Come midnight someone awakes and someone is being wakened, And outside, nothing is lit, But she's not afraid, just letting you know she was waking. Your bedside was colored, certainly psychedelic, but was almost always red I lay there, like a pregnant harmonica making love to a trusty guitar, the guitar thrusting, the harmonica trusting. I confront salvation with a straight face, a cigarette now intruding No, I yell, the harmonica sounds the same, still on the key of C, But by a synthesizer you sat, the harmonica lay there, heavy with child, looking at me, And as I stare back, I've seen: indeed you have chosen the synth. A note creeps in between the high and dry of low, I insist that kismet needs a little shove Just a push, a new pair of eyes, another heart and a memory that knows only love, Spiralling in Syd's Milky Way, me drowning, me begging in exchange for you, I tried moaning a tune but the blues have discolored and turned simply blue. I face the devil now, I try to bargain, but he sings, 'the blues trusts no one, no longer.' The devil makes a face, sings to me then says, 'you've forgotten that I'll always remember.”
0
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 10:10 PM UTC
Untitled 1 (when I'm supposed to be working...)
There is a note that lives between thought and slumber, That’s when I thought of you today A harmonica lay in my hand, the reeds looking at me silly, Play, I imagined it say, and imagined it was really there. In my mind we are still walking a dusty bluesy road, our jeans torn and worn In this midday dream the blues is red and wore a hat; I let out: This, is not the blues from which my hippie son was born. I sigh, at the sight of a synthesizer kissing a harmonica, the synth in your head, the harmonica pregnant with my heart. Our blues drove us to momentary madness, because Syd Barrett was always jealous Like fights that happened on Sundays and when we choose to mock, then cruelness. Come midnight someone awakes and someone is being wakened, And outside, nothing is lit, But she's not afraid, just letting you know she was waking. Your bedside was colored, certainly psychedelic, but was almost always red I lay there, like a pregnant harmonica making love to a trusty guitar, the guitar thrusting, the harmonica trusting. I confront salvation with a straight face, a cigarette now intruding No, I yell, the harmonica sounds the same, still on the key of C, But by a synthesizer you sat, the harmonica lay there, heavy with child, looking at me, And as I stare back, I've seen: indeed you have chosen the synth. A note creeps in between the high and dry of low, I insist that kismet needs a little shove Just a push, a new pair of eyes, another heart and a memory that knows only love, Spiralling in Syd's Milky Way, me drowning, me begging in exchange for you, I tried moaning a tune but the blues have discolored and turned simply blue. I face the devil now, I try to bargain, but he sings, 'the blues trusts no one, no longer.' The devil makes a face, sings to me then says, 'you've forgotten that I'll always remember.”
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24
Terminally upset, terminally emotional. Plagued with multiple personalities, Plagued with a desire to maintain my last clutches of scarce sanity. Brushes with a simple reclusive state, Slowly but surely morph into brushes with a razorblade. Trying to escape myself, Trying to find a safe haven. Breaking out of my façade, Breaking out of the asylum. Screaming loud, with everything left in me, Screaming loud, but I know No one can hear me. Crying out for her, Crying out for help. Falling out of my sorrows, Falling out of tomorrow. The world growing increasingly violent, The world growing eerily silent. Seeing the cruelness in my last breaths, Seeing the shards of pain in the shattered mirror. Suddenly, a pale hand zips the body bag that holds me, Suddenly, my vision fades to white. Gently, the music of mourning begins to play, Gently, my coffin in lowered into the ground.
0
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
The Vision of Macabre
Think positive                    *Have you learned nothing about                          me?* Have you learned nothing of me?                       -.- Fire with fire... Questions with questions                      *Smoke with ashes, I'll smother                        you -.-* After nine lashes, you've nothing better to do?                       *Before your funeral, you've got                       nothing better to say?* Inhibitions compensated, though so futile. Bury yourself beneath your yesterdays.                       *Trial and error, yet so naive.                        Through your mistakes and                        heartaches, you still                        overcompensate.* Smiling through tears, and tearing through smiles? What do you fear--everything prior, or just one more trial?                        *Been crying through the pain                         for far too long. I fear...                        Simply everything, to avoid                       the hurt, why is that so wrong?* Not wrong, but you hold doubt where hope belongs. Don't wallow in the dirt, or hold on to this morning's dawn.                        *But where I should see hope,                        there's only despair. I'm not                        wallowing, simply realistic. It's                        really not fair, to assume I'm                        being over dramatic.* Learn to cope when people are unfair. Try hallowing what you know's simplistic. There's much in the air, besides the cruelness of fanatics.                           *But the evil is overwhelming,                            it truly surrounds me, in my                           mind and my heart.                           Sometimes, I can't help but                          fall apart...* When the Devil is swelling, his doings unruly, and it all mounts on you, know there is kindness. Just part with the bad times and take the goodness to heart.
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
Typical ~~~ Collaboration with the Sweet Frank Ruland
Think positive                    *Have you learned nothing about                          me?* Have you learned nothing of me?                       -.- Fire with fire... Questions with questions                      *Smoke with ashes, I'll smother                        you -.-* After nine lashes, you've nothing better to do?                       *Before your funeral, you've got                       nothing better to say?* Inhibitions compensated, though so futile. Bury yourself beneath your yesterdays.                       *Trial and error, yet so naive.                        Through your mistakes and                        heartaches, you still                        overcompensate.* Smiling through tears, and tearing through smiles? What do you fear--everything prior, or just one more trial?                        *Been crying through the pain                         for far too long. I fear...                        Simply everything, to avoid                       the hurt, why is that so wrong?* Not wrong, but you hold doubt where hope belongs. Don't wallow in the dirt, or hold on to this morning's dawn.                        *But where I should see hope,                        there's only despair. I'm not                        wallowing, simply realistic. It's                        really not fair, to assume I'm                        being over dramatic.* Learn to cope when people are unfair. Try hallowing what you know's simplistic. There's much in the air, besides the cruelness of fanatics.                           *But the evil is overwhelming,                            it truly surrounds me, in my                           mind and my heart.                           Sometimes, I can't help but                          fall apart...* When the Devil is swelling, his doings unruly, and it all mounts on you, know there is kindness. Just part with the bad times and take the goodness to heart.
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34
They keep on taking, I am already empty. What else can you strip me of? My soul is already naked, My flesh exposed My heart vulnerable and lost
0
Sep 23, 2024
Sep 23, 2024 at 5:00 PM UTC
Cruelness
the dog owner neglected his so called friend no sustenance to the dog did he kindly tend over a period of time the poor wretch withered away he took his last panting breath on a hot summer's day twas criminal what the dog owner did foist upon the dog for his uncaring actions he deserves a thumping good flog his heartlessness truly unforgivable the dog seemingly to his eye twas invisible everyday dogs die in a state of distress their owners perpetrating undeniable cruelness
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
Undeniable Cruelness
I hear the crash of the avalanche. Some keep time to its rhythm, there's a lot to do before it hits. I catch the swaying of snowflakes. I can hear the roar of the wind. Before they found benzene rings in the well, I could say who had broken a whole in the oil rig. Some found themselves staring at their faces, picking their destinies away, smoking themselves into a methamphetamine oblivion, until they cleaned the skin off of their faces. I hear the submarines starting in the South Fork, God's Riffle is under, so don't try to join them. Some speak until their lips are the color of bruises, some never speak because they're afraid of finding bruises trapped in their hair. America is spending in darkness. Knowing in foul tradition. Burning at the testicles, and calling in sick. Go home to Wyoming, drink your nuclear family into a white courtroom with a fickle jury of out-of-towners. Be on your best most calm behavior. The denim is up in the air, the snow is coming in shingles, the grizzlies and black bears are choosing which young they ought to hide. I hear the cruelness of amphetamine users, through and through. You don't want to know them, I don't- I doctor up my circumstances so I don't drive ourselves crazy observing and swerving up and down and off the road. I am the Prince of Bell-Air. I keep my pockets oozing with four colors of black and nothing darker. Something is sharpening the beats of a generation, and no one is calling. Where are my friends in the darkness? I can hear their sides when they cough, but there is nothing like laughing in glitter, aside from the wildness and toil of this dusk.
0
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
this dusk
I hear the crash of the avalanche. Some keep time to its rhythm, there's a lot to do before it hits. I catch the swaying of snowflakes. I can hear the roar of the wind. Before they found benzene rings in the well, I could say who had broken a whole in the oil rig. Some found themselves staring at their faces, picking their destinies away, smoking themselves into a methamphetamine oblivion, until they cleaned the skin off of their faces. I hear the submarines starting in the South Fork, God's Riffle is under, so don't try to join them. Some speak until their lips are the color of bruises, some never speak because they're afraid of finding bruises trapped in their hair. America is spending in darkness. Knowing in foul tradition. Burning at the testicles, and calling in sick. Go home to Wyoming, drink your nuclear family into a white courtroom with a fickle jury of out-of-towners. Be on your best most calm behavior. The denim is up in the air, the snow is coming in shingles, the grizzlies and black bears are choosing which young they ought to hide. I hear the cruelness of amphetamine users, through and through. You don't want to know them, I don't- I doctor up my circumstances so I don't drive ourselves crazy observing and swerving up and down and off the road. I am the Prince of Bell-Air. I keep my pockets oozing with four colors of black and nothing darker. Something is sharpening the beats of a generation, and no one is calling. Where are my friends in the darkness? I can hear their sides when they cough, but there is nothing like laughing in glitter, aside from the wildness and toil of this dusk.
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2
the beings who float around in outer space will never come to reside in this place they've observed our warring ways and from them they wish to stay away they seek a residency of peacefulness not a planet of ugliness and cruelness their craft keep whizzing past here our planet is so wet with so many tears their way of life is founded on harmony they are beings who live for amiability our weaponry would make them so so sad as they know that they are so very bad they are ever watching us killing each other and they'd never do this to their brothers they believe in the power of dialogue not of conflict and deadly catalogues so fear not earthlings about space beings they are steering clear of all human beings war fare shall not assail us from space the beings from space are a placid race
0
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
Placid Race
the beings who float around in outer space will never come to reside in this place they've observed our warring ways and from them they wish to stay away they seek a residency of peacefulness not a planet of ugliness and cruelness their craft keep whizzing past here our planet so wet with so many tears their way of life is founded on harmony they are beings who live for amiability our weaponry makes them ever so sad as they know that it is so very bad they're ever watching us killing each other and they'd never do this to their brothers they believe in the power of dialogue not of conflict and deathly catalogues so fear not Earthlings about space beings they're steering well clear of all human beings war fare shall not assail us from space the beings from space are a placid race
0
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
Placid Race
A thick thread of never-ending cruelness, its toxicity running so deep it contaminates anyone it can wrap itself around until I discovered how to cut myself loose. Copyright © 2025 Alyssa Rondeau All Rights Reserved
0
Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 10:29 AM UTC
Runs in the Family
Mom: You have a pureness to your beauty that you'll never accept, but I wish you did, you deserve to embrace it. I  wish that you could see your own potential, and flaunt the beauty you have. You're the epitome of good, any cruelness you spew comes from your own insecurities, and I know there are quite a few. You've put yourself on the back burner far to much, and while it's appreciated beyond recognition, learn to love yourself as much as you love the people around you. You're selflessness is amazing, but you matter too, please remember. The overflow of emotions that consume me when I think of the love and respect I have for you floods my soul with a beautiful warmth. Without you I would crumble, you've raised and guided me better then any error-less mother I could ever fabricate. Nobody could have instilled in me better morals or values than what you have. Nobody was born to have children like you were. So, I thank you, endlessly and profoundly, for being yourself.
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
For My Mother
The scaffolding of the heart falls apart When our beloved kin quickly depart A repair kit is sought for the lasting grief Tears are never ending in their sad stain The living burdened with years of pain Wrenched from those caring arms in cruelness The soul e'er feels the ache of bitterness To have consolation soothing relief Always a cavern of dark clouds prevail A death causes us to constantly ail   In search of solace we all go looking A brighter glimmering light regained The sorrows of loss well ingrained Our dearest leaving so overwhelming
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
The Scaffolding Of The Heart (Rosarian Sonnet)
At one time or another. We all can say. We seen it. Even just to fit in. Or again because it's true. Whether it's a movie. Or a crime. We seen it. Now rather you wants to admit it. That's another thing. We've seen rudeness. We have witness kindness. We 've seen cruelness. And of course. We have seen love. So, we should be glad for the things we have seen. Because it has bought matureness to us.
0
Jul 14, 2012
Jul 14, 2012 at 10:25 AM UTC
Seen It.
When i met her, she was so afraid of this life and needed someone. like all  this worlds cruelness had caused her being to come undone. In our start, it seemed so perfect, our future right there to see. I thought we'd  be forever,  in love and live happily. but then she started changing, taking me for granted, like somehow her heart and love for me had been transplanted. I have no idea how or why this happened, all i know now is my heart is flattened, her love for me is gone. and all people tell me to do is move on my love for her just wont go, I just don't see how it could, most people's logic  of love must be very misunderstood. For if someone you love was to just stop loving you. I'm sure you wouldn't know what to do, your love for them will just stay, causing you pain every single day. all your emotions just black. because you want that connection back. knowing no matter what you do, she will never again be in love with you. I was a fool to keep in touch, it caused me to hurt too god ****** much, to watch her fall in love with someone else,  It made me want to **** myself,  so nearly two years later,  i thought i would have grown to hate her, but no I still love her to this day, and my heart will forever stay this way, destined to be on my own.  for she is the only love, I have ever known.
0
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
Jemm
Such cruelness, was injected into our world today, and we could hardly stop it. Such vile hatred, such insanity, in killing, in cutting lives short, especially young ones, whose journey had only just begun. Now they're gone, gone from their families, taken from their right, to live. Speaking of rights, if we lose our right to bear arms, it will make no difference. People will still be cruel, and dangerous, people will still own guns. Murdering someone is illegal, but that doesn't stop sick people from doing so. So if we lose our right to bear arms, it wont stop people, from owning guns. This right is already restricted enough, anymore, and people won't be able to protect themselves. Just like with what happened, today, to the children and teachers, they had nothing to defend themselves with. Thus resulting, in a horrific tragedy. And I pray to God, that their families can pull through, because losing a child, must be the hardest pain to deal with in life. And I know they may never recover from that pain. But this restriction, that will harm instead of help, makes me ask this question. I live in the United States, but am I really free?
0
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 9:09 PM UTC
Connecticut
mistakes were made along the way the capricious cruelness of life crept in seeds of doubt nourished with shards of pain and confusion fell on fallow soil unwilling to yield the hard ground tenaciously guarded by desire and hope two wishful lovers are blissfully granted a chance to learn once more to trust
0
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
Second chance