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"educating" poems
The World is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real, because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round, and it has thrills and chills and is very brightly colored, and it's very loud. And it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time, and they've begun to question, 'Is this real, or is this just a ride?', and other people have remembered, and they've come back to us and they say 'Hey, don't worry. Don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.' and we **** THOSE PEOPLE. "Shut him up! We have alot invested in this ride! SHUT HIM UP! Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account, and my family. This just has to be real." It's just a ride. But we always **** those good guys who try and tell us that. You ever noticed that? And let the demons run amok. But it doesn't matter, because ... It's just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear wants you to put bigger locks on your door, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead see all of us as one. Here's what we can do to change the world right now, to a better ride: Take all that money we spent on weapons and defense each year and instead spend it feeding, clothing, and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and WE CAN EXPLORE SPACE, TOGETHER, BOTH INNER AND OUTER, forever ... in peace. -- Bill Hicks (1961 - 1994)
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
Bill Hicks - It's Just A Ride
The World is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real, because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round, and it has thrills and chills and is very brightly colored, and it's very loud. And it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time, and they've begun to question, 'Is this real, or is this just a ride?', and other people have remembered, and they've come back to us and they say 'Hey, don't worry. Don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.' and we **** THOSE PEOPLE. "Shut him up! We have alot invested in this ride! SHUT HIM UP! Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account, and my family. This just has to be real." It's just a ride. But we always **** those good guys who try and tell us that. You ever noticed that? And let the demons run amok. But it doesn't matter, because ... It's just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear wants you to put bigger locks on your door, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead see all of us as one. Here's what we can do to change the world right now, to a better ride: Take all that money we spent on weapons and defense each year and instead spend it feeding, clothing, and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and WE CAN EXPLORE SPACE, TOGETHER, BOTH INNER AND OUTER, forever ... in peace. -- Bill Hicks (1961 - 1994)
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9
Astonishing Bewildering Caring Dissing Educating Fulfilling Gravitating Healing Inspiring Joking Keeping Loving Motivating Naming Organising Praising Quizzing Restoring Smiling Trusting Uplifting Varying Willing Xoxo-ing Yelling Zesting
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
Family/Friends
Wanted: her words! Her inspired, breathless, Sighing words Needed for motivation Desired for an elixir Of broken hearts and corrupt minds Wanted: her words! Her mellifluous panacea Breathing life into the inanimate Defining the undefinable And finding felicity in the fugacious Wanted: her words! Her intransigent, sagacious, And judicious lyrics Publicly educating and passionate Privately life's denouement Her words are wanted
0
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
Wanted:
i still am trying to hold back my tears as i write this down. i thought about on my way home and debated with myself for a good 3 hours and decided that i have to write this, if not for people, for myself. i visited the ward as a visitor today. it felt weird to be on the other side of the door. it felt weird to be on the other side of the glass, and it felt weird to look into the eyes of someone i once knew. it hurt that as soon as i walked through the open doors, i hear the screams of a man speaking in a language i did not understand. it hurt to watch him being pinned down by 2 men almost twice his size. it hurt to watch his mental pain being temporarily stopped with physical pain. it hurt as we started talking. it took almost every ounce of courage inside of me to hold my tears back, because i knew that me crying would dampen his spirits and affect his recovery. and i knew exactly what that feels like. it hurt to sit back and watch him explain his illness in terms i knew far too well. it hurt to hear him say " stay here, you would understand this more than anybody else. " it hurt that i understood. it hurt that for that brief moment, i didn't want to understand. i didn't want to be in there. my legs were shaking but i listened anyway. it hurt to hear him explain how the electricity worked and hurt his jaws. it hurt to tell him to be strong, because i knew how much it would take out of him to just try. it hurt that he cracked up jokes in the middle of our conversations, i didn't feel like laughing at all. it hurt to watch so many people suffering from illnesses they never asked for, it hurt to watch so many of you suffering from the pain you don't deserve. it hurt to just sit there and not be able to do anything about it. it hurt. but it hurt because it wasn't my place to feel hurt, it was yours. it was your place to scream and shout. it was your place to cry and break down into a million pieces. but it hurt because you couldn't, because in your head you are fine. in your head, you're at work. in your head, none of this ever happened. in your head, 20 cops didn't restrain you. in your head, this is a perfect world. but it didn't hurt because i knew deep in my heart that no matter what, the way i feel about you will never change. the strong, courageous, brave, joyful, kind, happy man that i grew up knowing will always have a place in my heart. no amount of ect's and antidepressants will take that away. so thank you, for opening my eyes to all the pain in the world. thank you, for making me understand that there is greater suffering in the world. thank you, for teaching me the value of gratefulness. thank you, for educating me, even if it was through your suffering.
0
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 11:06 AM UTC
my visit to the psychiatric ward -
i still am trying to hold back my tears as i write this down. i thought about on my way home and debated with myself for a good 3 hours and decided that i have to write this, if not for people, for myself. i visited the ward as a visitor today. it felt weird to be on the other side of the door. it felt weird to be on the other side of the glass, and it felt weird to look into the eyes of someone i once knew. it hurt that as soon as i walked through the open doors, i hear the screams of a man speaking in a language i did not understand. it hurt to watch him being pinned down by 2 men almost twice his size. it hurt to watch his mental pain being temporarily stopped with physical pain. it hurt as we started talking. it took almost every ounce of courage inside of me to hold my tears back, because i knew that me crying would dampen his spirits and affect his recovery. and i knew exactly what that feels like. it hurt to sit back and watch him explain his illness in terms i knew far too well. it hurt to hear him say " stay here, you would understand this more than anybody else. " it hurt that i understood. it hurt that for that brief moment, i didn't want to understand. i didn't want to be in there. my legs were shaking but i listened anyway. it hurt to hear him explain how the electricity worked and hurt his jaws. it hurt to tell him to be strong, because i knew how much it would take out of him to just try. it hurt that he cracked up jokes in the middle of our conversations, i didn't feel like laughing at all. it hurt to watch so many people suffering from illnesses they never asked for, it hurt to watch so many of you suffering from the pain you don't deserve. it hurt to just sit there and not be able to do anything about it. it hurt. but it hurt because it wasn't my place to feel hurt, it was yours. it was your place to scream and shout. it was your place to cry and break down into a million pieces. but it hurt because you couldn't, because in your head you are fine. in your head, you're at work. in your head, none of this ever happened. in your head, 20 cops didn't restrain you. in your head, this is a perfect world. but it didn't hurt because i knew deep in my heart that no matter what, the way i feel about you will never change. the strong, courageous, brave, joyful, kind, happy man that i grew up knowing will always have a place in my heart. no amount of ect's and antidepressants will take that away. so thank you, for opening my eyes to all the pain in the world. thank you, for making me understand that there is greater suffering in the world. thank you, for teaching me the value of gratefulness. thank you, for educating me, even if it was through your suffering.
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11
The Plains of Africa when you touch down here on the African plains you can almost immediately feel the pains of a life that grew from nothing at all greatness achieved but still the blood stains cultures of complexity started here somehow they understood but still there was fear they created technology science and a division of labor and learned somehow to live with their neighbor they created transportation writing and math they started it all they created the path without their skills in agricultural tricks we could have never grown just chewing on sticks and though it all started here so long ago this area suffers did they forget what they know this is where my future all began here was the beginning the beginning of man we owe it all to these beings so humble and caring we need to find an end to all of their despairing it seems funny that they were the ones stretching the brain and now they need educating when there is no rain infestation of some kind has continually been a thorn either insects or bacteria for even the newborn yes they were our beginning the life that we know we owe our tears and support to help them regrow David Nelson ....
0
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
The Plains of Africa
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
0
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
160. Whetting 12/22/12
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
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46
*why do people always pain themselves to write as if they could ever be understood, when so few read them, and even a fewer number care to understand? and why do so many ably bodied ******* themselves with writing? why have they lost the taste for fresh air and instead chose a wheelchair that writing is?* in legal terms - are you implying a play on synonyms or just simply stating: d'uh, i don't know what that means? ah, a limitation on the vocabulary, an atypical symptom of lawyers - when socrates attacked eloquence per se, he also defeated himself by ensuring law abided by the law of highest eloquence, and the rabble got diddly-squat, his attack on rhetoricians lost the prowess of attracting debased educators with himself the most debased educator: and instead attracted lawyers... thus the law of the eloquent, rather than the rubric of the least eloquent... lost an eye for an eye, lost a mouth with it too... i rather be fed eloquence and education and coarseness to equally educate than be fed a justice fed by eloquence alone, because if this is to be the equilibrating case, then serving justice will just be a case of speaking in a satin tongue of readied rhetoric as justice so called, and when speaking in a coarse tongue no justice will be made applicable... i rather be educated by someone in a coarse tongue than be brought to justice by someone in an eloquent tongue, i rather not be educated by someone in an eloquent tongue / i rather be brought to justice by someone in a coarse tongue (the mob), at least the coarse tongue is well equipped to address the many who require educating, unlike the eloquent tongue equipped to address itself and itself alone, rather than addressing the jury who blindly pass judgement, because the lawyer's tongue is not in the mouth of the defendant but in the lawyer's mirror of social strata of respectability appearing so guiding, kindly tying a bow-tie of applause.
0
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
coarse tongue v. eloquent tongue
*why do people always pain themselves to write as if they could ever be understood, when so few read them, and even a fewer number care to understand? and why do so many ably bodied ******* themselves with writing? why have they lost the taste for fresh air and instead chose a wheelchair that writing is?* in legal terms - are you implying a play on synonyms or just simply stating: d'uh, i don't know what that means? ah, a limitation on the vocabulary, an atypical symptom of lawyers - when socrates attacked eloquence per se, he also defeated himself by ensuring law abided by the law of highest eloquence, and the rabble got diddly-squat, his attack on rhetoricians lost the prowess of attracting debased educators with himself the most debased educator: and instead attracted lawyers... thus the law of the eloquent, rather than the rubric of the least eloquent... lost an eye for an eye, lost a mouth with it too... i rather be fed eloquence and education and coarseness to equally educate than be fed a justice fed by eloquence alone, because if this is to be the equilibrating case, then serving justice will just be a case of speaking in a satin tongue of readied rhetoric as justice so called, and when speaking in a coarse tongue no justice will be made applicable... i rather be educated by someone in a coarse tongue than be brought to justice by someone in an eloquent tongue, i rather not be educated by someone in an eloquent tongue / i rather be brought to justice by someone in a coarse tongue (the mob), at least the coarse tongue is well equipped to address the many who require educating, unlike the eloquent tongue equipped to address itself and itself alone, rather than addressing the jury who blindly pass judgement, because the lawyer's tongue is not in the mouth of the defendant but in the lawyer's mirror of social strata of respectability appearing so guiding, kindly tying a bow-tie of applause.
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35
A journey into destiny Inspiration without enduring pity It is not a trip through a city However it is living within reality Years of separation A time when writing was a enemy in not A hidden curse being a plot In justice in not letting your mind expand Exercising your rights documented in creed on the United States land Your writing was meant to reach It was part of education in all to teach Words have no favoritism Actions are only disturbing needing a direct response Writing falls partly into that category Words construct in how the writer feels with all the conditions that apply Endless moments from a past with a cry Every thinking moment becomes a writing try Every idea is another day in being wise Life understanding becomes wisdom absorbed Those moments alone becomes a concept explored Back in slavery days, reading and writing wasn’t an option Yet it was educating one’s mind to take a chance However, it was Freedom Writers who had courage and Faith to step out Your writing was meant to reach It was part of education in all to teach Words have no favoritism Actions are only disturbing needing a direct response Writing falls partly into that category Words construct in how the writer feels with all the conditions that apply Endless moments from a past with a cry Every thinking moment becomes a writing try Every idea is another day in being wise Life understanding becomes wisdom absorbed Those moments alone becomes a concept explored Back in slavery days, reading and writing wasn’t an option Yet it was educating one’s mind to take a chance It didn’t matter if one didn’t advance However, it was Freedom Writers who had courage and Faith to step out Today, opportunity plays its part in giving you assurance that you have the talent to write I am not trying to be polite I want to help someone to come out of the shadows and be among into the light Freedom Writers is what it says, and they have given you the floor plan in writing in what they think Write where others cannot Think where others are uncertain Encourage where negativity has been applied Your realize will certainly be your observation eyes Be enthused with every writing try Our Forefathers who wrote paved the way in how each of us write today As a writer, you are the destined voice You had some doubt, but you became the choice You are “Freedom write with Liberty gained”.
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Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC
FREEDOM WRITERS
A journey into destiny Inspiration without enduring pity It is not a trip through a city However it is living within reality Years of separation A time when writing was a enemy in not A hidden curse being a plot In justice in not letting your mind expand Exercising your rights documented in creed on the United States land Your writing was meant to reach It was part of education in all to teach Words have no favoritism Actions are only disturbing needing a direct response Writing falls partly into that category Words construct in how the writer feels with all the conditions that apply Endless moments from a past with a cry Every thinking moment becomes a writing try Every idea is another day in being wise Life understanding becomes wisdom absorbed Those moments alone becomes a concept explored Back in slavery days, reading and writing wasn’t an option Yet it was educating one’s mind to take a chance However, it was Freedom Writers who had courage and Faith to step out Your writing was meant to reach It was part of education in all to teach Words have no favoritism Actions are only disturbing needing a direct response Writing falls partly into that category Words construct in how the writer feels with all the conditions that apply Endless moments from a past with a cry Every thinking moment becomes a writing try Every idea is another day in being wise Life understanding becomes wisdom absorbed Those moments alone becomes a concept explored Back in slavery days, reading and writing wasn’t an option Yet it was educating one’s mind to take a chance It didn’t matter if one didn’t advance However, it was Freedom Writers who had courage and Faith to step out Today, opportunity plays its part in giving you assurance that you have the talent to write I am not trying to be polite I want to help someone to come out of the shadows and be among into the light Freedom Writers is what it says, and they have given you the floor plan in writing in what they think Write where others cannot Think where others are uncertain Encourage where negativity has been applied Your realize will certainly be your observation eyes Be enthused with every writing try Our Forefathers who wrote paved the way in how each of us write today As a writer, you are the destined voice You had some doubt, but you became the choice You are “Freedom write with Liberty gained”.
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51
The Plains of Africa when you touch down here on the African plains you can almost immediately feel the pains of a life that grew from nothing at all greatness achieved but still the blood stains cultures of complexity started here somehow they understood but still there was fear they created technology science and a division of labor and learned somehow to live with their neighbor they created transportation writing and math they started it all they created the path without their skills in agricultural tricks we could have never grown just chewing on sticks and though it all started here so long ago this area suffers did they forget what they know this is where my future all began here was the beginning the beginning of man we owe it all to these beings so humble and caring we need to find an end to all of their despairing it seems funny that they were the ones stretching the brain and now they need educating when there is no rain infestation of some kind has continually been a thorn either insects or bacteria for even the newborn yes they were our beginning the life that we know we owe our tears and support to help them regrow David Nelson ....
0
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 9:31 AM UTC
The Plains of Africa
Avoid trouble. Be willing to face the consequences for your mistakes. Oh, punishment will come. Bet on it. Believe it. We selected you for your talent and sports skills. And more than anything wants you to achieve your diploma. Yes, educating you is our main goal. As young adults, realize you not in high schools. And the rules and regulation is of a higher standards. You must police yourself when faced with temptation. Yes, common sense works when confronted with things you should avoid. Parties, oh you will attend with select friends. Than the smarts ones won't. It's just not their purpose to act out cause they away from their parents. ****** matters, will be your stumbling block. And more likely lead you down paths you regret. Oh, by now you should have witnessed this evidence. But parents should be your security check guards. Call and confirm that you still policing them. Forget what their friends think of your parental check? These are your children's. Coaches, can only guide so much. Some kids get in colleges and begins to lose touch of their senses. Get influence by fools and used by idiots. So blame not the schools when your children's venture out and find trouble. All universities hand out guidelines what expected of them?
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
Athletic Director to Student Athletes
I want to find a Boo-Boo for my Smokey Bear So now that you’re aware of this just stop your staring at me Please hear my plea Next time you talk to Yogi ask him ‘bout a Boo-Boo Bear for Smokey The forest fires burn burn, burn, burn, burn Keep tryin’ to contain them but those whack-a-moles yearn to be free Please listen to me Next time you talk to Yogi ask him ‘bout a Boo-Boo Bear for Smokey Smokey needs a Boo-Boo Bear so when he retires he’ll take over his work preventing forest fires Can’t you see? Please hear my plea Next time you talk to Yogi ask him ‘bout a Boo-Boo Bear for Smokey Mark Toney © 2021 “Created in 1944, the Smokey Bear Wildfire Prevention campaign is the longest-running public service advertising campaign in U.S. history, educating generations of Americans about their role in preventing wildfires … Though he has already accomplished so much, Smokey’s work is far from over. Wildfire prevention remains crucial, and he still needs your help. His catchphrase reflects your responsibility: Only you can prevent wildfires. Remember that this phrase is so much more than just a slogan: it’s an important way to care for the world around you.”—smokeybear.com “Boo-Boo Bear is a Hanna-Barbera cartoon character on The Yogi Bear Show. Boo-Boo is an anthropomorphic bear cub who wears a blue or purple bowtie. Boo-Boo is Yogi Bear's constant companion, and often acts as his conscience.”—Wikipedia | Boo-Boo Bear
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Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 11:50 PM UTC
Smokey Bear
A LAND OF HONEYED-PRAISES, FULL OF ARROGANT AND PRIDE, MALIGNANT ONE's, WITH AN UNCURED~ CANCERS. A WORDS AND PHRASES FOR THOSE WHO LOST IT'S SENSE IN PUBLIC ~SERVICE. IT'S NOT YOU? REALLY? HA! PHILOSOPHY DOCTOR? MASTER OF EDUCATION? MASTER OF PUBLIC SERVICE? YOUR PORTRAIT HANG ON THE WALLS! NOT ONE! NOT TWO! NOT THREE! REALLY? BUT HOW MANY ARE YOU? MORE PEOPLE, YOUR CONSTITUENT HAD ALL A DECADES OF BROKEN~ DREAMS, THAT SHATTERED  INTO PIECES THEIRS TEARS? IS NOT ENOUGH ... TO FILL UP YOUR CUPS, AND EVEN CAN'T  ADD UP YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! EDUCATIONS MAKES SENSE RIGHT! CAN'T ARGUE WITH YOU THEN..., BUT IT ALSO MAKES YOUR FACE~CENTS. A NECKLACE OF YOU PRIDE, MY DEAR, DEPED DAVAO DE ORO EDUCATORS. (Division Office) OH~SILENT AND ARROGANT WHY? YOU PERMIT THE BROKEN~CULTURES EVEN THE TOXIC, GO FAR BEYOND MY LINES. SORRY, I FORGOT AM NOT A LICENCE, POET. DID I NEED TO GET ONE? OR TO PAY YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! O'  COMO'N SORRY DEAR MAAM, AND SIR's I LOST MY APPETITE FOR GRAMMARS, SA , BISYA PA "TULA NI OR DELI" TO, MY  DEAR READER "NATIVE LANGUAGE" DEPED~DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) O~ DEAR INSTITUTION THANKS FOR EDUCATING US FOR ME TO LEARNED ENGLISH FOR A WHILE AH, NOW YOU AWAKEN ME, OH, MY SENSE OF CAPTIVITY. THIS, UNJUST INSTITUTIONS CAUSED VEXATIONS TO YOUR DEAR GRADUATES, AND THOSE SPIRITED~ONES. DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) ARE YOU AN INSTITUTION OF UNJUST & UNWISE GIVING BREED OF CENTS~EDUCATORS? AH, SORRY, IT HARD TO GIVE THE WORDS SENSE, OF YOUR INSTITUTION. DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO YOU LOST YOUR WAYS YOUR MASTER DEGREE's & PHD's EVEN BLOWN ~UP WIDE. SIDE -BY-SIDE! OH~STUPID THINGS AND THE ARROGANT's WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY! YOU CAN FIND THEIR NAME's IN THE HALLWAY OF GALLERY AH, COMO'N THIS IS NOT A POET OR  A SONG EITHER. WHAT's, IS THIS?! SORRY, MATE.... THIS IS PART OF ME, WHO HAVE LOST AND WANDERED. REALLY? ABOUT WHAT? FOR THE DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) WHERE? &  WHAT COUNTRY MATE? IN THE PHILIPPINES, MATE. WHAT NOW, MATE? JUST NOTHING. JUST, A HELL OF ONE PROVINCE MATE. GOOD TO KNOWS, FOR THEIR ******* MATE. YOU KNOW,  MATE? WHAT? SEC.  LEONOR BRIONES IS ONE OF OUR COUNTRY BEST EDUCATOR. THE WISE~LADY MATE? YOU RIGHT, MATE! HOPE, SHE VETTED.
0
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 9:05 AM UTC
DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO
A LAND OF HONEYED-PRAISES, FULL OF ARROGANT AND PRIDE, MALIGNANT ONE's, WITH AN UNCURED~ CANCERS. A WORDS AND PHRASES FOR THOSE WHO LOST IT'S SENSE IN PUBLIC ~SERVICE. IT'S NOT YOU? REALLY? HA! PHILOSOPHY DOCTOR? MASTER OF EDUCATION? MASTER OF PUBLIC SERVICE? YOUR PORTRAIT HANG ON THE WALLS! NOT ONE! NOT TWO! NOT THREE! REALLY? BUT HOW MANY ARE YOU? MORE PEOPLE, YOUR CONSTITUENT HAD ALL A DECADES OF BROKEN~ DREAMS, THAT SHATTERED  INTO PIECES THEIRS TEARS? IS NOT ENOUGH ... TO FILL UP YOUR CUPS, AND EVEN CAN'T  ADD UP YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! EDUCATIONS MAKES SENSE RIGHT! CAN'T ARGUE WITH YOU THEN..., BUT IT ALSO MAKES YOUR FACE~CENTS. A NECKLACE OF YOU PRIDE, MY DEAR, DEPED DAVAO DE ORO EDUCATORS. (Division Office) OH~SILENT AND ARROGANT WHY? YOU PERMIT THE BROKEN~CULTURES EVEN THE TOXIC, GO FAR BEYOND MY LINES. SORRY, I FORGOT AM NOT A LICENCE, POET. DID I NEED TO GET ONE? OR TO PAY YOUR HUNGRY PORSCHE WALLET! O'  COMO'N SORRY DEAR MAAM, AND SIR's I LOST MY APPETITE FOR GRAMMARS, SA , BISYA PA "TULA NI OR DELI" TO, MY  DEAR READER "NATIVE LANGUAGE" DEPED~DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) O~ DEAR INSTITUTION THANKS FOR EDUCATING US FOR ME TO LEARNED ENGLISH FOR A WHILE AH, NOW YOU AWAKEN ME, OH, MY SENSE OF CAPTIVITY. THIS, UNJUST INSTITUTIONS CAUSED VEXATIONS TO YOUR DEAR GRADUATES, AND THOSE SPIRITED~ONES. DEPED ~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) ARE YOU AN INSTITUTION OF UNJUST & UNWISE GIVING BREED OF CENTS~EDUCATORS? AH, SORRY, IT HARD TO GIVE THE WORDS SENSE, OF YOUR INSTITUTION. DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO YOU LOST YOUR WAYS YOUR MASTER DEGREE's & PHD's EVEN BLOWN ~UP WIDE. SIDE -BY-SIDE! OH~STUPID THINGS AND THE ARROGANT's WRITTEN IN THE HISTORY! YOU CAN FIND THEIR NAME's IN THE HALLWAY OF GALLERY AH, COMO'N THIS IS NOT A POET OR  A SONG EITHER. WHAT's, IS THIS?! SORRY, MATE.... THIS IS PART OF ME, WHO HAVE LOST AND WANDERED. REALLY? ABOUT WHAT? FOR THE DEPED~ DAVAO DE ORO (Division Office) WHERE? &  WHAT COUNTRY MATE? IN THE PHILIPPINES, MATE. WHAT NOW, MATE? JUST NOTHING. JUST, A HELL OF ONE PROVINCE MATE. GOOD TO KNOWS, FOR THEIR ******* MATE. YOU KNOW,  MATE? WHAT? SEC.  LEONOR BRIONES IS ONE OF OUR COUNTRY BEST EDUCATOR. THE WISE~LADY MATE? YOU RIGHT, MATE! HOPE, SHE VETTED.
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96
I've always had this empty feeling in my heart. I've tried many times over the years to satisfy it First I became a teacher. What better way to fill my void than by educating the leaders of tomorrow? I taught them.  I filled their heads with knowledge.  Every child that entered my classroom left with an appreciation of what they had learned. Still, when I laid in bed at night, I felt that emptiness in my soul ******* up my contentment. So I stopped teaching Next, I became an adventurer. Clearly my last job, while fulfilling was incredibly boring.  What better way to fill the void than to feel the adrenaline rushing through my head? I skydived, I wrestled alligators, I climbed mountains, I pod raced. I felt more alive than I ever had before.  It was exhilarating. Women loved me, men wanted to be me. Still.  It didn't fill the void.  I would go to bed with women whose eyes were just as empty as I was.  I would wake up with plastic and rubber. I stopped thrill seeking. Next, I became an astronaut. I clearly needed to complement excitement with the satisfaction of doing something good for the world. I studied the universe.  I traced lines along the constellations. My research was renowned by scholars worldwide.  With my help, the world entered a new paradigm Still, the void persisted.   I became an architect and built some of the most mind-boggling structures that had ever been envisioned I became a doctor and found the cure to the diseases of humanity I became a poet and wrote words that echoed throughout the ages. After all I had done After all I had accomplished After all the time I had spent I was still empty.            Then I looked up            Then I opened my eyes            Then I realized All I had been missing All this time Was you.
0
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC
Puzzle Piece
I've always had this empty feeling in my heart. I've tried many times over the years to satisfy it First I became a teacher. What better way to fill my void than by educating the leaders of tomorrow? I taught them.  I filled their heads with knowledge.  Every child that entered my classroom left with an appreciation of what they had learned. Still, when I laid in bed at night, I felt that emptiness in my soul ******* up my contentment. So I stopped teaching Next, I became an adventurer. Clearly my last job, while fulfilling was incredibly boring.  What better way to fill the void than to feel the adrenaline rushing through my head? I skydived, I wrestled alligators, I climbed mountains, I pod raced. I felt more alive than I ever had before.  It was exhilarating. Women loved me, men wanted to be me. Still.  It didn't fill the void.  I would go to bed with women whose eyes were just as empty as I was.  I would wake up with plastic and rubber. I stopped thrill seeking. Next, I became an astronaut. I clearly needed to complement excitement with the satisfaction of doing something good for the world. I studied the universe.  I traced lines along the constellations. My research was renowned by scholars worldwide.  With my help, the world entered a new paradigm Still, the void persisted.   I became an architect and built some of the most mind-boggling structures that had ever been envisioned I became a doctor and found the cure to the diseases of humanity I became a poet and wrote words that echoed throughout the ages. After all I had done After all I had accomplished After all the time I had spent I was still empty.            Then I looked up            Then I opened my eyes            Then I realized All I had been missing All this time Was you.
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69
Don't tell me what you learned in school was useless because every day you: count the number of likes you got on your selfie to figure out the value of your beauty, write perfectly formed tweets to exude creativity and wit you wish you actually possessed, read status updates from former friends who always seem to be doing something exciting, become curious about the lives of people you've never met, and question why you waste your time comparing yourself to carefully crafted personalities that exist only for Internet audiences they would otherwise be too afraid to address. Don't tell me what you learned in school was useless.
0
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Educating the Youth
Unspoken Wisdom Speaks Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who knew how to reach deep within themselves to find a way to touch a student’s heart and mind by encouraging them to set goals and dreams that fit their particular circumstances, while believing in even greater possibilities for her student’s futures Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who had the amazing ability to look into the soul of a child and bring out a smile, as well as, a desire to achieve, if only to please the teacher Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who freely spent their time figuring out ways to motivate a child to a higher degree of success without considering the idea of a reward except for maybe a beaming smile of accomplishment upon her student’s faces Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher s who found the rewards of service to a student satisfying enough to encourage them to seek out another who could use their caring direction and assistance Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who were stern in their demands and uncompromising in their expectations of a child because they understood society would demand more of our children than of one of their own because we are programmed with the idea of having to be better than to get equal to; a belief that has assisted many of us to a higher level of achievement Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who would not consider changing a grade to a higher one when a child’s efforts did not justify it because he realized society expected a ***** child to put forth much more effort than one of its own or suffer the harsh reality of failure over and over again Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who were hated and feared by most students of the school yet revered for their integrity and unwavering commitment to their personal standards of educating our children Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who could laugh and smile with you as easily give you the lower grade earned when you failed to meet the expected standard to achieve a higher one Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher whose uncompromising standards set a child’s mind in the direction of achieving success at, whatever, the cost necessary in the amount of time they had to spend preparing, studying, and learning Where has the old American ***** teacher gone? Absorbed into an assimilated society; otherwise gone, lost, disappeared, swallowed up by the great progression known as Integration Where has the old American ***** teacher gone? On’ know Exclusively and Originally Written by: Elvan
0
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
American ***** School Teacher
Unspoken Wisdom Speaks Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who knew how to reach deep within themselves to find a way to touch a student’s heart and mind by encouraging them to set goals and dreams that fit their particular circumstances, while believing in even greater possibilities for her student’s futures Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who had the amazing ability to look into the soul of a child and bring out a smile, as well as, a desire to achieve, if only to please the teacher Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who freely spent their time figuring out ways to motivate a child to a higher degree of success without considering the idea of a reward except for maybe a beaming smile of accomplishment upon her student’s faces Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher s who found the rewards of service to a student satisfying enough to encourage them to seek out another who could use their caring direction and assistance Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who were stern in their demands and uncompromising in their expectations of a child because they understood society would demand more of our children than of one of their own because we are programmed with the idea of having to be better than to get equal to; a belief that has assisted many of us to a higher level of achievement Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who would not consider changing a grade to a higher one when a child’s efforts did not justify it because he realized society expected a ***** child to put forth much more effort than one of its own or suffer the harsh reality of failure over and over again Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teachers who were hated and feared by most students of the school yet revered for their integrity and unwavering commitment to their personal standards of educating our children Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher who could laugh and smile with you as easily give you the lower grade earned when you failed to meet the expected standard to achieve a higher one Where has the old American ***** school teacher gone? The teacher whose uncompromising standards set a child’s mind in the direction of achieving success at, whatever, the cost necessary in the amount of time they had to spend preparing, studying, and learning Where has the old American ***** teacher gone? Absorbed into an assimilated society; otherwise gone, lost, disappeared, swallowed up by the great progression known as Integration Where has the old American ***** teacher gone? On’ know Exclusively and Originally Written by: Elvan
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16
He said to type into Google "why does school make me" Search results - Why does school make me... Sad Tired Depressed Cry Wanna die Educating the mind without the heart is no education at all. Aristotle The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education. Martin Luther King, Jr. Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. Nelson Mandela Bright new buildings, Inspirational quotes, Like Aspire and achieve and dream and believe! Opportunity knocks? Opportunities missed. Opportunities lost. This new building, less like a blank canvas, More like a sterile factory. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's your target, here's your grade Here's the progress that you've made. Here's your number, here's your label, Here's the proof of what you're able. Step it up, you must try harder! Learn to be better from your face partner! Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's a pen, this ones blue, For all the work you've got to do. Here's a pen this ones green, For all your errors are obscene. Here's a purple, this one's progress, For all the errors you've got to address. Here's a pen, this ones a sword. Stab your neighbour when you're bored. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die "I wanna be a poet" But you can't back a laureate. "Art keeps me on the right path" But your pathway leads to double math. "I need music to understand my existence" You need a Humanity in your condition. Aspire to what we want. Achieve what we allow. Dream of a future where everyone's the same, And always believe in what we say. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's some music to calm you down. Now get up and move around. Give your partner a big high five, Lets show ofsted how you thrive. Catch the ball and answer this, Miss the ball, then take the **** "What a loser, you can't catch." Next time, you catch it. "Here's the question..." Loser didn't learn the lesson. "Next time learn it, do it better, You're an A grade, that's your letter" No more letters now a number. "I'm a person not a number!" "That's your third strike." Going under Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Now you're out and down the PRU. "You didn't do what we told you to, Now we'll give you extra Art, Let's go out and race Go Karts" Not because "Every Child Matters" "Now your progress doesn't matter." Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die False. Fake. Fraud. Green for growth but no room to grow. Thinking time but no time to think. Forced reflection but no space to be. Safeguarding but never free. Every child matters? Every child... except you
0
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 4:25 AM UTC
Why does school make me?
He said to type into Google "why does school make me" Search results - Why does school make me... Sad Tired Depressed Cry Wanna die Educating the mind without the heart is no education at all. Aristotle The function of education is to teach one to think intensively and to think critically. Intelligence plus character - that is the goal of true education. Martin Luther King, Jr. Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world. Nelson Mandela Bright new buildings, Inspirational quotes, Like Aspire and achieve and dream and believe! Opportunity knocks? Opportunities missed. Opportunities lost. This new building, less like a blank canvas, More like a sterile factory. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's your target, here's your grade Here's the progress that you've made. Here's your number, here's your label, Here's the proof of what you're able. Step it up, you must try harder! Learn to be better from your face partner! Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's a pen, this ones blue, For all the work you've got to do. Here's a pen this ones green, For all your errors are obscene. Here's a purple, this one's progress, For all the errors you've got to address. Here's a pen, this ones a sword. Stab your neighbour when you're bored. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die "I wanna be a poet" But you can't back a laureate. "Art keeps me on the right path" But your pathway leads to double math. "I need music to understand my existence" You need a Humanity in your condition. Aspire to what we want. Achieve what we allow. Dream of a future where everyone's the same, And always believe in what we say. Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Here's some music to calm you down. Now get up and move around. Give your partner a big high five, Lets show ofsted how you thrive. Catch the ball and answer this, Miss the ball, then take the **** "What a loser, you can't catch." Next time, you catch it. "Here's the question..." Loser didn't learn the lesson. "Next time learn it, do it better, You're an A grade, that's your letter" No more letters now a number. "I'm a person not a number!" "That's your third strike." Going under Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die Now you're out and down the PRU. "You didn't do what we told you to, Now we'll give you extra Art, Let's go out and race Go Karts" Not because "Every Child Matters" "Now your progress doesn't matter." Sad, depressed, cry, wanna die False. Fake. Fraud. Green for growth but no room to grow. Thinking time but no time to think. Forced reflection but no space to be. Safeguarding but never free. Every child matters? Every child... except you
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76
Bigger that Xucha 🚀✨ Jojo Siwa 👩‍🎤✨ Tatiana, and Mr. Rogers 🎶✨ She creates her own legend 📓✨ Building children up 👶✨ Educating 🍎✨ People of all kinds of genres 📚✨ Turning all their pages 📖✨ Until she finds the current plot ⏰✨ Ready with her pen ✍️✨ To help them connect the dots \/\/\|\🖊 To view the bigger and smaller picture 🖼 With lots of love 💖✨ And pleasant thoughts 🌈✨
0
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 1:48 PM UTC
#84
Slumber Through decay Slumber through the whole day Time just keeps ticking away And night creeps stealthily and soon Until there is no more light, not even from the moon Go on, let us continue in our sleep Let's continue numbing the truths we wish not to speak For even I know our future is bleak, For even I know our future is bleak I may not spend all my hours Educating myself on politics I'm out chasing butterflies like I'm still 5 But it doesn't take a smart person to know That if we collectively continue in the direction we are heading It will all go... Their will be no more earth to sow No more life to grow I guess, maybe This Universal death is inevitable Natural, though catastrophic Like frightened animals anticipating a storm We're in a frenzy, running in circles Turning to myriad vices and hollow hopes Only to reach the final day And realize, Transcendence was not to be avoided For through transcendence We awaken
0
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Slumber
Hear that? crackling... rough crunching... Stop it. Nothing is really there. You're just being paranoid. Such innocence, such weakness. I have you. You so easily sustain my existence. Expanding, educating, strengthening. Your power evanesces, demonic **** Some day strenght will favour another.
0
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 3:05 AM UTC
Phobic
poetry masquerades under too much freedom of ineffective politics, which it does not which to engage with, namely it's own: far-left mummification, the far left mummified its heroes, the far right cremated theirs... one took the route to Prometheus absence as subsequent lack of camp-fire eagerly hell-bent; what truth is woman? the woman worthy of socio-political affairs, or affairs of paranoid idealism signature sentenced as counter-argument with haircut stylistics and tattooing?  a healthy visible status, rather than an unhealthy counter, status or no status, one ascribed the guillotine phobia, the second a necessary Buddhist heroism - both left reward-lost: dream of troll maidens, dream of perfected bedroom antics with so much **** reducing acting to naught and theatre to desperation with the ignited insignia of bureaucracy rather than bored harpsichord rebels hash tagging emily davison for bets and awareness in having monopoly - of her beauty i'll speak but little, am i the shopkeeper, the merchant, easier under the Niqab than for her fancy of ****** taking place... dreadlocks un-kept, and three signatures on lips that made kissing a pain... removed, thus revenged... if i knew woman i'd have kept one... but since i know none, i kept cats, bypassing women and imagining children; and all the better for my liking, such that the world shrunk to the size of Lichtenstein - oh but the few buttered friendships are there to be spoken off in old age... the few that remain have already leveraged you to bite the worm closest to the heart, in times when educating yourself equated itself to being shamed; when education became shame and trivia quizzing, when education became Latin bulimia and even that didn't fertilise the earth to spawn the awaiting, unearthed root for what came to be known as the chattering colour: as death stood, in its wintry palace, jokingly mannequin.
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC
Kremlin v. Ganges Egyptology
poetry masquerades under too much freedom of ineffective politics, which it does not which to engage with, namely it's own: far-left mummification, the far left mummified its heroes, the far right cremated theirs... one took the route to Prometheus absence as subsequent lack of camp-fire eagerly hell-bent; what truth is woman? the woman worthy of socio-political affairs, or affairs of paranoid idealism signature sentenced as counter-argument with haircut stylistics and tattooing?  a healthy visible status, rather than an unhealthy counter, status or no status, one ascribed the guillotine phobia, the second a necessary Buddhist heroism - both left reward-lost: dream of troll maidens, dream of perfected bedroom antics with so much **** reducing acting to naught and theatre to desperation with the ignited insignia of bureaucracy rather than bored harpsichord rebels hash tagging emily davison for bets and awareness in having monopoly - of her beauty i'll speak but little, am i the shopkeeper, the merchant, easier under the Niqab than for her fancy of ****** taking place... dreadlocks un-kept, and three signatures on lips that made kissing a pain... removed, thus revenged... if i knew woman i'd have kept one... but since i know none, i kept cats, bypassing women and imagining children; and all the better for my liking, such that the world shrunk to the size of Lichtenstein - oh but the few buttered friendships are there to be spoken off in old age... the few that remain have already leveraged you to bite the worm closest to the heart, in times when educating yourself equated itself to being shamed; when education became shame and trivia quizzing, when education became Latin bulimia and even that didn't fertilise the earth to spawn the awaiting, unearthed root for what came to be known as the chattering colour: as death stood, in its wintry palace, jokingly mannequin.
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46
I saw five blackbirds perched on a telephone wire at six am They were black as the blackest of nights and as big as Caterpillars They were looking down on cars taped over with blowing plastic bags Floating in the hot pink wind like tornadoes made from lipstick Their talons were long daggers looking to pierce the deepest part of my heart To open my eyes with their meandering meaningful meaningless They had shipwrecks adorning each obsidian feather and crooked teeth Capped the nightmares that lurked behind the glare of their eyes They watched solemnly at the scene below of closing doors Of rustling papers and stained tears tarring the summer ground They had secrets cawed in a language of screeched whispers Warning and educating ears that were too deaf or too self involved to listen We’ve got no chance to escape this drudgery of modernity We’re stuck in this self-built prison of black and white prisms Of three dimensional reasoning and the attitude that follows Never meant to be but it’s what it is when we think we’re free How can the one blind bird perceive things differently If our shortsighted near-death experiences have left us numb Numbing us to the presence of the stars in the morning sky Or the Sun exploding torrents of fire during the night Wrapping us in a chilly warmth like blankets soaked with gasoline We've left ourselves to wander the desolate land thinking of the obscene I saw five blackbirds blacking out the sun as they took to the sky Laughing their murderous laugh at the awkward bipeds down below
0
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
BlackBirds
I saw five blackbirds perched on a telephone wire at six am They were black as the blackest of nights and as big as Caterpillars They were looking down on cars taped over with blowing plastic bags Floating in the hot pink wind like tornadoes made from lipstick Their talons were long daggers looking to pierce the deepest part of my heart To open my eyes with their meandering meaningful meaningless They had shipwrecks adorning each obsidian feather and crooked teeth Capped the nightmares that lurked behind the glare of their eyes They watched solemnly at the scene below of closing doors Of rustling papers and stained tears tarring the summer ground They had secrets cawed in a language of screeched whispers Warning and educating ears that were too deaf or too self involved to listen We’ve got no chance to escape this drudgery of modernity We’re stuck in this self-built prison of black and white prisms Of three dimensional reasoning and the attitude that follows Never meant to be but it’s what it is when we think we’re free How can the one blind bird perceive things differently If our shortsighted near-death experiences have left us numb Numbing us to the presence of the stars in the morning sky Or the Sun exploding torrents of fire during the night Wrapping us in a chilly warmth like blankets soaked with gasoline We've left ourselves to wander the desolate land thinking of the obscene I saw five blackbirds blacking out the sun as they took to the sky Laughing their murderous laugh at the awkward bipeds down below
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24
Desire moving with effort Educating your mind to elevate your career A classroom designed to help you preserver It’s a positive approach sharpering your knowledge like a defined broach Terminology advancing into hands on Gaining the formulations into experiences where you belong Lectures into knowledge A lesson brush up just like polish Blackboard with the theories The philosopher of past educators being history Determination Striving University The floor plan creating the actual reality Thirst for education Hungry to succeed Analytical thinking in knowing how to proceed Knowledge is always a need It’s like a farm with a growing seed It’s smaller words that start and bigger words being the mark Staying focused in where you want your career to aim Remember all your colleagues are looking for the same Determination Striving U have given you the tools to pursue on you The reason you chose D.S.U. It knew it was a university that would help you to expand your mind and exams that would be due Determination while you can Striving on when University being the establishment of you at the end.
0
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
DETERMINATION STRIVING UNIVERSITY
Thank you very much for teaching me feelings are a crutch for educating me to how my dreams will get crushed Thank you for enlightening me to get rid of my heart you see! It's simply nothing more than a tool others use to hurt you you fool! Thank You for forging my armor to make me stronger for much longer opening up it seems will just get me hurt so thank you for forging it, you did admirable work Thank you for killing my once happy self the world was trying but it just needed help now I have all the happiness of a caged elf or a nobleman lacking in wealth
0
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
Thank you