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"delegate" poems
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Stewardship Of Talent
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
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45
it ain't easy, when you relate, restrict and delegate, when you draw a narrow lane on a highway that says only left footed poets need apply <> it does not say **slow cars stay to the right, only trucks, or oddly even, no trucks** I love seasonality, without thickly thinking you take a break from the poetry writing one day I'll figure out a way to monetize my love poems, publish them as Shakespeare's couple(t)s, "new edition plus a couple of newfound poems!" maybe some fools will buy some thinking Shakespeare has been, resurrected! *love grows goes hot all over and grow slower older and grow colder, in between those fine ticklish teasing moments* when the miracle of resurrection repeats itself something is said a gesture is made a finger strokes the cheek, unexpected and it all comes rushing back again, overfilling that coffee cup mug she bought just(ice) for you *ain't gonna check how long it's been since last I declaimed, disclaimed, inflamed, these pages with an only love poem but I do know this: it is something I think about, It is something I know about, it is something I feel about daily even on the nothing days, when routine takes over I know you couldn't remember of its passage, is the waking up and the lying down to sleep* but the poets eyes are always open his emotive secret senses, always alert, what's that thing they always say, his heart just wasn't in it! (🥴if they only knew the truth😘)
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 6:04 PM UTC
when love grows old
MS Multiple Scleriosis Aka Miserable Self "Listen to your body" Says MS nurse Your mind keeps going Burning sensations intermittent Stabing and shooting in arms and legs Crawling in your head Numbness in your *** Forget fullness Wobbling  stumberling Fear Pregablin ***** Dampening your fuesed nerves Limping dragging "rest" Says MS nurse Mind keeps going Days are half days Taken up by sleep Fear Weakness Dropping Numbness "pace yourself " says MS nurse Mind keeps going job half done Delegate Let go "Use your alternative technology " Says MS nurse Mind keeps going Stick Mixer Steamer Robotic vacuum cleaner Hose Wheelchair Automatic car It's challenging Managing Self Be kinder to yourself Kindness rules
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Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 6:38 AM UTC
It's challenging managing
I had a dream the other day I ran into a doctor, lawyer and a constable, We came to an agreement that I had lost some part of me and that "I" am totally responsible; Then I had another dream I ran into a doctor, cousolor and a poet, We came to an agreement there's certain things you just don't delegate but before then I didn't know it! So now I'm taking six weeks off and explaining why is basically the moral of this little rhyme, I have to find that item I lost instead of intertaining getting high and ******* all the time! There's a lot of back stepping I must do I could have lost it anywhere, It's a powerful asset I've always had but I lost it somewhere over this past year. It might be right next to you or me so please look around do you see it? This is a necessary part of me I really need so I just can't ignore or say so be it. I must retrace my steps to lead me back to what once led me to here, To fix that error of my past when I lost the virtue of my despair. Now a broken bone heals in six weeks and so I think this is a realistic amount of time, This is a personal excursion I must take because believe me I feel all of your pain combined. I have to find my virtue the disposition to keep on doing the right thing... Without my positive attitude the strength and prudence I have just doesn't mean a god ****** thing! You might miss me a little bit but I plead for you to stay away, If you don't it doesn't matter cause I'm not answering my phone, texts e-mails nor doorbells anyway. And if you've learned anything from me you'll listen to me when I say, Loosing virtue is like jumping off a 55 ft. bridge you'll be hurting every day! And if like me you ever lose your virtue you'll realize this then too, You'll go on an excursion just like me this virtue you too you will persue. Sediment, strength, prudence and wisdom go nowhere as far as prooving who one is, Without the moral virtue we all have that allows us to make stinky things smell like roses. Goodbye for now I'll see you soon and for me to do this you ought, To love yourself much and me much too and for you... to Keep a Wonderful aThought! Robin Ashley
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Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Virtue
I had a dream the other day I ran into a doctor, lawyer and a constable, We came to an agreement that I had lost some part of me and that "I" am totally responsible; Then I had another dream I ran into a doctor, cousolor and a poet, We came to an agreement there's certain things you just don't delegate but before then I didn't know it! So now I'm taking six weeks off and explaining why is basically the moral of this little rhyme, I have to find that item I lost instead of intertaining getting high and ******* all the time! There's a lot of back stepping I must do I could have lost it anywhere, It's a powerful asset I've always had but I lost it somewhere over this past year. It might be right next to you or me so please look around do you see it? This is a necessary part of me I really need so I just can't ignore or say so be it. I must retrace my steps to lead me back to what once led me to here, To fix that error of my past when I lost the virtue of my despair. Now a broken bone heals in six weeks and so I think this is a realistic amount of time, This is a personal excursion I must take because believe me I feel all of your pain combined. I have to find my virtue the disposition to keep on doing the right thing... Without my positive attitude the strength and prudence I have just doesn't mean a god ****** thing! You might miss me a little bit but I plead for you to stay away, If you don't it doesn't matter cause I'm not answering my phone, texts e-mails nor doorbells anyway. And if you've learned anything from me you'll listen to me when I say, Loosing virtue is like jumping off a 55 ft. bridge you'll be hurting every day! And if like me you ever lose your virtue you'll realize this then too, You'll go on an excursion just like me this virtue you too you will persue. Sediment, strength, prudence and wisdom go nowhere as far as prooving who one is, Without the moral virtue we all have that allows us to make stinky things smell like roses. Goodbye for now I'll see you soon and for me to do this you ought, To love yourself much and me much too and for you... to Keep a Wonderful aThought! Robin Ashley
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27
My son and I have made a deal he stays in our house rent free so long as he helps with the evening meal side by side we talk, dice, slice potatoes, sport, TV carrots, music, advice I could delegate the whole thing feet up, cold beer be waited on like a king or let him play a video game cook on my own he wouldn’t complain but the food tastes better is more nourishing when we work together there’s more fun more warmth in the kitchen when I cook with my son
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Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 4:33 AM UTC
Cooking with my 14 year old
My juxtaposition to your heart... Just short of right and  just left of leaving... This fascination...distant adoration... Trailing off into the distance...despite my own persistence...going...going...gone... You see...Yours was a velvet touch... smooth against the skin of my soul... My lips raw from your sandpaper kiss...once riveting... Now...  remorseful hue... morose shade of blue...defunct me and you... My own sweet type of primal bliss...you...audaciously exist...within me... As I the ribbon...the strand... NO...the last straw... Am wrapped around your finger...linger... flail...fight...then make tight...our binding... Intertwining... Bound by our brittle bias... And you... pious... feel the need to mediate...to delegate... NO...dominate... Our love... You... an anomaly...of the not right variety... Build...gather...house the mire ...selfishly... misty moments... memories My pain protruding...while eluding...my acute identity... Pregnant with grief...disbelief...I strain... Laboriously to free you... Giving birth to the rain... of emotions... And OUR storm rages on... A weeping...seeping semblance of love... Circling the drain of our destruction...
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
My Juxtaposition to Your Heart...
My thoughts turn to food Barbecued ribs And then and then The black keyboard white letters A pen in the mouth People outside walk to work Feet tap to music A pen in the mouth There are words that have never been uttered Words without meaning This is my purpose Because it is an easy one Blank! Blank! Blank! The soul always desperate to spank Caggle *** loude Cankle *** louder Why go on? Electromagnetism Electricity and magnetism Shoelaces that are just to **** long And drag across the ground Even when they are tied They are essentially useless In 1938 a Japanese woman who does not yet know the name of her new husband is ***** violently on her wedding night. In 500 BC a roman emperor orders a feast of fifteen cows and thirty swine, he drinks too much wine and gets sick in the middle of a double blow job by a Nubian slave and a plump Egyptian delegate. Everything is just so been done
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
For Daniil Kharms
to banter and delegate a favorable solution they waste days and lives in obvious delusion when war breaks out much relief is sent alongside guns and bombs from governments bent then, lie to the people and reinforce resolve with hope that resounds and eventually dissolves selling pawns like hot cakes in the business of hypocrisy you think dictatorship is bad? take a closer look at democracy
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
Right to rule
It all began with Love.  Love beheld our frame;  He looked upon our wretchedness and saw beauty. He looked upon the hatred in our hearts, And saw Love. Said Love, "I will shower my affection upon my beloved"; Then Love gave His most treasured possession —His only Son. So Love humbled Himself;  He minded not the frailty of our frame, Nor the vainness of our nature. But He robed Himself in flesh, And came. Love sent not an angel, No, not even a cherub or seraph did He delegate. He sent the best resource there ever was; He came Himself. Then Love took our hurt,  suffered our pain, experienced our rejection, endured our death on the Cross, and paid for our sins. So Love repaired the breach, and atoned for our misdeeds; Himself the Sacrifice, and Himself the Priest. Love broke our chains, that we may experience the Father's Love —undying, unbridled, and unrestrained. Then Love returned in the Person of the Holy Spirit; and Love stayed. Love taught, and Love played. Love sought, and Love found; Here is Love — Love Unbound.
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
Love
My membrane is a flower and too many people have plucked my petals from the stem. I ripped out all of the pages that had scripture in them, scripture that told stories of who I was back then, scripture I had written with a broken pen. I kept your voice in a box that's in the attic, it's safe inside a headache, it still sounds nothing less than tragic. Remember my hands and how they shook when you took everything away, when the demons weren't at bay, when I screamed for them to stop but still, continually, everyone's been taken away, so when people stay please understand that I have to push them away like waves from the shore and **** I know that's clichè but I'd rather die than let them live in my heart for only a few days. They still try to talk and I reverberate about how it's unholy to say my name that way, it's unholy to keep me in the fade. It's unholy to remember me by my eyes and not by my lies. I have good alibis and it's nothing but true when I say that I forgot what love means, I believe it's an illusion that most people just dream, they told me I'm crazy but **** I think I've had more nightmares than dreams so I would know better than to keep my lonely stem stuck in bad weather. They're over there seducing themselves now, they're seducing themselves with medication that leads to hours of a permutation of all the items in her chest, he leads her to a mutation of what he thinks is best. I only weep between sheets. They're far too confident in their self extraction and I just don't understand how that happens, how self absorption can lead to something so terrifying, placing yourself in a box so you can delegate yourself, you're too delicate, it's not good for your health. That voice inside that box talks in third person now, it says you're not doing too well.
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May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
Boxes in the Attic
My membrane is a flower and too many people have plucked my petals from the stem. I ripped out all of the pages that had scripture in them, scripture that told stories of who I was back then, scripture I had written with a broken pen. I kept your voice in a box that's in the attic, it's safe inside a headache, it still sounds nothing less than tragic. Remember my hands and how they shook when you took everything away, when the demons weren't at bay, when I screamed for them to stop but still, continually, everyone's been taken away, so when people stay please understand that I have to push them away like waves from the shore and **** I know that's clichè but I'd rather die than let them live in my heart for only a few days. They still try to talk and I reverberate about how it's unholy to say my name that way, it's unholy to keep me in the fade. It's unholy to remember me by my eyes and not by my lies. I have good alibis and it's nothing but true when I say that I forgot what love means, I believe it's an illusion that most people just dream, they told me I'm crazy but **** I think I've had more nightmares than dreams so I would know better than to keep my lonely stem stuck in bad weather. They're over there seducing themselves now, they're seducing themselves with medication that leads to hours of a permutation of all the items in her chest, he leads her to a mutation of what he thinks is best. I only weep between sheets. They're far too confident in their self extraction and I just don't understand how that happens, how self absorption can lead to something so terrifying, placing yourself in a box so you can delegate yourself, you're too delicate, it's not good for your health. That voice inside that box talks in third person now, it says you're not doing too well.
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16
Definitions divide the divine of what we desire. Do not delegate your dreams under definitions. You do not decide what you desire. Denounce you struggle and discard your plan. Don't you remember the first day we danced down the dry river? Droplets of rain drained from the sun. Drenched hearts and delicate hands are depicted. Delicate hearts we possess. Dreamy days will drag out. We are far more deserving than we deem. We delight in our debt. We drowned in our doubt.
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Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 4:48 PM UTC
Delicate
Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering disarming delusions of decrepit delights. Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death, demurely doled out in droves to the willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants of the land. Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions to plastic, white collar deities; giving new definition to internal deformity, through decelerated dejection. Desperate and emotionally dismembered, defrauded by quick, cheap decadence, debauchery, and mental decay in many deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor, name your poison! Delegate your defect, as those with doctoral degrees in defunct traditions do deviously delineate their demented designs...for our future. DejaVu? Perhaps, but in fact, it is we who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel, decidedly and dutifully depleted of intellect by way of dubious data. Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and deodorize their fiendish lies...as we, WE do nothing! Not enough of us dumbfounded or dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles. Full of dread and deep dismay, by the statutes of the day...I, for one, will dream of better days, when we shall defeat these diabolical demons. But for now, down beaten, downtrodden; we will continue to be denigrated for the duration. Clever dissection; dumb as they want you to be, disparity of all creativity...individuality... and all of your rights...controversially. Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to fall on dormant hearts...and we, debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled, are now forever haunted, by our freedoms demise...by days we could question their smiling lies. Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder, rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor, name your poison. At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped, defaced, defeated...and to continue on this road, our final denouement will come disturbingly disguised...as DEATH! -by Mercurychyld Copyrights
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
SUBSTANCE 'D'
Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering disarming delusions of decrepit delights. Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death, demurely doled out in droves to the willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants of the land. Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions to plastic, white collar deities; giving new definition to internal deformity, through decelerated dejection. Desperate and emotionally dismembered, defrauded by quick, cheap decadence, debauchery, and mental decay in many deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor, name your poison! Delegate your defect, as those with doctoral degrees in defunct traditions do deviously delineate their demented designs...for our future. DejaVu? Perhaps, but in fact, it is we who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel, decidedly and dutifully depleted of intellect by way of dubious data. Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and deodorize their fiendish lies...as we, WE do nothing! Not enough of us dumbfounded or dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles. Full of dread and deep dismay, by the statutes of the day...I, for one, will dream of better days, when we shall defeat these diabolical demons. But for now, down beaten, downtrodden; we will continue to be denigrated for the duration. Clever dissection; dumb as they want you to be, disparity of all creativity...individuality... and all of your rights...controversially. Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to fall on dormant hearts...and we, debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled, are now forever haunted, by our freedoms demise...by days we could question their smiling lies. Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder, rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor, name your poison. At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped, defaced, defeated...and to continue on this road, our final denouement will come disturbingly disguised...as DEATH! -by Mercurychyld Copyrights
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56
to me love is like a rose garden you walk down each row admiring the individuality of each every rose is beautiful like love they say not to pick the roses what is everyone picked them meant to be admired not touched i am guilty of picking the roses they sit in a vase in my room i seem to pick the roses that remind me much of myself usually delicate and light not classic yellow light pink you used to give me light pink you knew who i was delegate not fulled bloomed but exotic and beautiful love is a rose garden i want my own.
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
love is like a rose garden
I have drug my feet my whole life Everybody seems to step right on my heel Don't blame me if I can't feel They set me up from the start So I guess I'll just blow the scene apart **You can kick me when I'm down but wont ever seem me frown No I have been made to keep stronger then that You can not make me your door mat I've been the victim for too long So I went and wrote this song To release the product of my rage I'll bleed it out on every page ** I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do I let loose within the crowd Grit my teeth through the loud Watch as they pull the wool right over my eyes Because you think I just don't realize **I can see so much deeper then your face Behind your lies I see nothing more then a disgrace I sensed it since the moment you walked in Stuck sickened waiting for your ******** to beguine I can see everything that you are doing to me Is this really what you want** I've given you the knife so you might as well slit my throat Yeah you cut me right ear to ear Then you run off taking my last beer With all jokes aside I'm sick and tired of this land slide The avalanche of all your hate You where never the ones assigned to delegate I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do **For so long I struggled and wondered why You always seem to be beating me with this stick ****** broken down, bruised, and sick It's like there is surly a target painted on upon my back Just waiting for the next surprise attack** Every time That we may cross I'll offer to shake your hand and move on But maybe the moment is gone You are always cutting me down To bring me back down to size That makes you no sort of prize I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do **You can dig the hole if you want I can see where you wish for me to lie For so long I just lived and tried to deny You tried to play it all off just a joke A lye that almost made me ******* choke Because your actions so much louder then a word I'm sick of all these deceptions that I've heard** I've drug my feet all my life So go ahead kick me in the heels if you'd like But don't go wondering how you wound up here No need for fear you should have expected my spike **I'll lay the bodies upon the floor Spread gasoline from the door I can't believe you did this to me So angry I'm too blind to even see**
0
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
An Eye For An Eye Makes The Whole World Cry
I have drug my feet my whole life Everybody seems to step right on my heel Don't blame me if I can't feel They set me up from the start So I guess I'll just blow the scene apart **You can kick me when I'm down but wont ever seem me frown No I have been made to keep stronger then that You can not make me your door mat I've been the victim for too long So I went and wrote this song To release the product of my rage I'll bleed it out on every page ** I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do I let loose within the crowd Grit my teeth through the loud Watch as they pull the wool right over my eyes Because you think I just don't realize **I can see so much deeper then your face Behind your lies I see nothing more then a disgrace I sensed it since the moment you walked in Stuck sickened waiting for your ******** to beguine I can see everything that you are doing to me Is this really what you want** I've given you the knife so you might as well slit my throat Yeah you cut me right ear to ear Then you run off taking my last beer With all jokes aside I'm sick and tired of this land slide The avalanche of all your hate You where never the ones assigned to delegate I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do **For so long I struggled and wondered why You always seem to be beating me with this stick ****** broken down, bruised, and sick It's like there is surly a target painted on upon my back Just waiting for the next surprise attack** Every time That we may cross I'll offer to shake your hand and move on But maybe the moment is gone You are always cutting me down To bring me back down to size That makes you no sort of prize I've got yours as you slide the knife into my back The things that they say the ways that they sway Towering over them all I could feel as I started to fall To the ground I rest just a moment maybe two But I have to get up there are things yet to do **You can dig the hole if you want I can see where you wish for me to lie For so long I just lived and tried to deny You tried to play it all off just a joke A lye that almost made me ******* choke Because your actions so much louder then a word I'm sick of all these deceptions that I've heard** I've drug my feet all my life So go ahead kick me in the heels if you'd like But don't go wondering how you wound up here No need for fear you should have expected my spike **I'll lay the bodies upon the floor Spread gasoline from the door I can't believe you did this to me So angry I'm too blind to even see**
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70
Focus your life is in shambles. Focus it’s already dismantled. Focus your trial awaits. Focus not time to delegate. Focus on something that breathes. Focus on someone that feeds. Focus the pressure’s getting to you. Focus the lessons’ somehow esque. Focus bring firelight to the forest. Focus don’t try to score us. Focus for your quaint life’s in danger. Focus and pay up your wager. Focus on nothing at all. Focus even though you feel small. Focus just know that it’s here. Focus you’re twisted in fear. Focus your pain is not real. Focus those thoughts that you feel. Focus are not at all plausible. Focus the damage is causable. Focus if only you are able. Focus to become a bit more stable. Focus just focus at the camera on cue. Focus just focus your petty sum’s due.
0
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
Help! The Coxcomb’s Comatose!
This message is coming to you on the   Cee Haitch Zee. This is the Circumstellar Habitable Zone for those who don't know astronomy. I'm god, see, from the other side of the sun. Yeah. I’m the omnipotent, omniscient and magnificent one, or, if you can look at me directly, I'm the Dazzling One. Now the reason for this xenology is to tell you the secret of the suns and to vent all that cosmic stuff, including the terrestrial file on life and death, the splendid and the vile, religion, and why I **** innocent children sometimes. There. That orta be enough for a while. So look. I’ll keep it really simple here. The reason for everything is, it’s um, gosh. Well. Would you believe? I don't have this immediately in front of me. And anyway, it's been a very long time since I dragged you out of slime. Now don't go getting emotional here, because I'll delegate this to Harahel, he's the Angel of Knowledge, or maybe Gabriel. Although I suppose we could leave it till the Day of Trumpets, judgement and hell, y'know, and go all traditional. But I really don't mean to be threatening at this stage, so I'll get back to you on this one later, and then I'll give you a shout. Yeah. This is god calling, over and out. Mike T Minehan
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
This Message is Coming
People say that talking to yourself is a sign of madness.... I never talk to myself?? I delegate between all of them.. why should I take all the responsibility...
0
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 6:48 PM UTC
Talking To Myself