"exemplify" poems
Upon the dark night, striking three;
A tick representing each step in time,
but time overwhelmed by a trinity
of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams.
As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited
Another beauty upon the night, a tulip,
blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird.
The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings
A praise, a never ending thankfulness
"Thank You for the trees,
Thank You for the waves,
And thank You for me," the bird sings.
In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing;
Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring
when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three
But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes.
The songs of beauty the bird once sang
are silenced more than a whisper
Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders,
"Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?"
Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang,
but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower;
However, the sun rises, the flower realizes,
A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
Just like any other day.
Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three:
You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing,
for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking
Fly free, song bird,
Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time
As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge of the new world freeway .
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
We all love to hate the things that hurt us
To draw the line that divides the two
Is like walking an invisible fence
In the ocean where the waves rage and rush
And we hate to love what cares for us
Because we're scared to get wounds that won't mend
When it's fear that will hurt us in the end
And puncture us with an elephant tusk
But what if we don't teach love or preach hate
Instead, exemplify how to balance
the two between two beams of blended light
where they compliment and don't complicate,
Perfectly mixed in a golden chalice
Where a single sip can change someones life.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
Exemplify without try
Each teacher bears the
Burden of account,
But the only way
They carry it is with
The strength of humility
--The emptiness to learn,
The fullness to teach--
And they do it without speaking,
Flowing like a river
Through a fountain
--Ever depleting,
Ever replenishing--
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
he wasn't born a begging man
he'd take you out in his trans-am
and parallel park next to your favorite art museum
he'd give you every alibi
he'd look manet right in the eye
and exemplify all that you didn't know
and the only songs he'd listen to
were all by dead blind blues musicians
and to you all of them sounded just the same
but when you told him wait a minute he just rolled his eyes and sighed
and so the thieving beggar man condemned himself to die
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 10:07 AM UTC
-They say my head's up in the clouds
The way I speak, think, some would label it as "loud."
I'm unable to deny; thoughts fuse themselves with my specific imagination
No retries, I simply cannot falter. This is what will finally earn me that craved standing ovation.
-First things first, don't you dare look down on me
That ill-thought notion in itself is just a tragic catastrophe
Refusing to put in effort, here I stand
Life ahead of me now? Not a single second planned.
-I'm a joke. A simple disgrace.
A huge understatement to say you hate the sight of my face
I've no excuses for my recent nihilism
I'm free but also bound; psyche imprisoned.
-But your disgust is irrelevant to this entire tangent
I'd do everything again with absolutely no regret
My "loud" thought process is simply contradictive
Parts of my mind nothing more than vindictive.
-Venial in it's purest simplicity
Certain situations exemplify my irrefutable superiority.
So keep it coming, your spited words don't hurt,
"Head in the clouds," expectations similar to dirt.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Many compositions for all men,
once were found near granite stones.
Many songs
were tied to Rose Hill Cemetery.
Then, travels on a Wind Bag, ended
on the Farm, and became famous.
Wrote Ramblin' and got higher then ever seen for
Southern men who encompassed black and white,
so, did never exemplify the South,but two returned,
because of motorbikes,
and now lie side by side:
recomposing,
at Rose Hill Cemetery.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Cooling air, the senses assault
Done is the day, I’ve earned my salt.
Daytime light has turned on me
On moonlit streets such trickery
The pleasant splash, those leaves on foot
Make drunk these nostrils, nectarous soot
Pensive mood floods the mind
And of their beauty I’m truly blind
I do not think of Autumn whole
Only alms within my bowl
As you’ll see I’m leaf inspired
Though their rudiments I have mired
Autumn ring, the chilling tenors
Rejoiced and played in earthly manors
That icy rush makes cold the spirits
Yet conflagrates ye adherents
That festive smell, incense the air!
No motive o’yours ever err
And though the day leaves more hastily
These changing leaves get the best o’me
Transient seconds plump and inspir’d
Of your natural portraits I’ll never tire
The mountainside, my most treasur’d mosaic
Whatever great works, it’s more archaic
Falling to the ground, like listless colorful rain
Whether as the nemophilist, or seated behind a pane
These little souls returning to earth
Fill me with the greatest mirth
Though they exemplify an age ended
Verbiage they have transcended
I’d fill my days with gallery mileage
Gladly glut with their splendid sillage
As they flit, the stuff of dreams
In their midst, pure sophrosyne.
Day or night I’m overcome
Eyes wide open and stricken dumb
Overcome with words and tune
Bursting forth, this ideal plume
And like a flower, complex in bloom
Can’t be captured, hemmed and hewn
Vapor these words, though fall inspire’d
No due medium, pen or lyre
Untouchable this golden essence
Wealth of ideas, gone in seconds
Appropriate, it seems to me
My head, my thoughts a leafy tree
Arrives the autumn, gold and dun
Thousands escape when I reach for one
So I’ll just watch in quiet awe
The beauty whole, no hem nor haw
Not try to make that art my own
Won’t reduce it to rhyme and tone
I’ll simply revel their naïve lull
Ephemeral, yes, but never dull
Shout out happily in leafy halls
Marry to words what return my calls
Leave thou ****** in pulchritude pall
And question not what comes of fall.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
I.
Please give me shelter
from the rain and snow
Give me a place
where I may grow.
I'll mend you up,
make you look new.
Strike a fire in your hearth
and make those coals really glow.
All I need is some solace,
and a place of sanctuary.
I dearly need to get out
of the rain and snow.
II.
Grant me to watch the roses
creep along your stoney walls;
you look so ravishing
sitting abandoned in these feilds.
There is Perfection in your windows,
Triumph in your thatched roof,
Wisdom in the worn walkway
leading to your door.
I see love in your sturdy structure,
And as those roses grow up you,
you grow more upon me....
III.
The seed of my affection
becomes a burning infatuation.
I've plummeted into a
great sea of flames
contorting and licking and biting and twisting
pulling at me like the waves
caressing your near by shores.
I long only to stroke the stones
of your existance, to run my hands through your dirt
and through your grass.
I long only to exemplify you, worship you
To me- this home, this shrine, this temple,
you are omnipotent.
To be held above all else,
a treasure to be beheld by only myself.
IV.
As time creeps along
your walls commence to crack.
Your straw turns soggy and brown.
You are leaky and drafty.
and your door hangs crooked
as you begin to slouch and decay.
Yet, I shall stay.
I wrinkle and become stiff and grey.
I will not leave you, I refuse to stray.
For you've given me shelter,
you protected me from the snow and rain.
So for you, my love shall never wane.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
scars are a blighted currency.
we speak in overstatements,
blood capsules and parlor tricks
translated villainy romanticizes eras of naturalism
our fate
in the balance of underwhelming prose
and i think i would know
cradled curses
baby i was born this way
you've got to catch up
puking emperors exemplify judgment lapses
and solidify an irreconcilable clash
the study of clinical lycanthropy
is just a step above and beyond the underwhelming
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
To intense to endure this mentality,
The human condition was not meant for this kind of pestilence, ,
This kind of using,
When the ingestion leaves you mentally cringing,
I was consuming for the feelings of escaping thieves,
To vicariously experience something just as devious,
As I put my faith in capsule cradled dependencies,
******* it’s so hard to type with keys that keep falling from my reach”
May I experience such a moment of going beyond what only my sobriety may perceive,
For only an instance before I go back to the way things use to be,
Please,
Am I a pioneer or a deviant, an explorer or a ******
Pupils suspended like flying saucers, smearing across a starry sky,
The eyes that exemplify my concocted climb,
The sights that remind me I’m destined to decline,
But not before a few more twists and turns along this mentally mutilated ride,
******* Jen can you come soon so we socialize before I’m institutionalized”
I didn’t know I’d be hindered by the human condition,
I didn’t want to be alone,
Thinking I’d be mentally prepared and not physically impaired,
Ever after it’s end, I am still unable to comprehend, something made by man,
Bringing me close enough to consider, the divinity of the whitest doves and the blood of lamb,
Like a pagan explanation to why we act this way,
This ingestion had left me somewhat insane,
Afraid of what others can create in this century,
So I pray that you will heed what I have to say,
So I hope you stay away from something that may leave you a casket-case
Because there isn’t anyway to save us all from seeking to flee this reality,
And momentarily forgot about the ugliness of our actual identities.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 11:16 PM UTC
You continue to exemplify everything beautiful in this world
The heavens above exalting a thousand trumpets
Symphonies hailing from the mountains,
Her intoxicating smile glistening, biting my lip in allusion.
Your eyes unimaginably delicate,
Thinking of you, a piano chorus dwindling on repeat.
Your bashful beauty,
Alway makes rainy days come to a hault.
So much wrong in this world,
Pressure, decisions and guilt,
And I am just here admiring you.
Everytime I look at you,
My lump heart skips a beat.
Clenching my sweaty hands,
I have seen you a million times before
But you mesmerize my love struck mind.
Every inch of you, impeccable and unchangeable.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 11:52 PM UTC
All thoughts are individual. It is impossible to take the energy and apparatus to which that energy is transferred through to develop a thought. Therefore no knowledge is taken, all is perceived to wit a schematic and the apparatus developed by our brains to develop the thought. The thought is then subjected to the body and undergoes scrutiny to provide a relevance, priority and application. Therefore it would be safe to assume that all knowledge is neither subjective nor objective but an entirely new word that could exemplify itself as "Understood as developed by ones own." Where I got this schematic for this idea was in counterance to the percieved robbing of thoughts and ideas from books and ideas. Would it be proper to call it the same thought? No. Would it be proper to call it a reaction? Only in the most mechanical of senses that is cause following effect.
This idea would be to liken to a computer having a file copied from one machine to another, while the content remains the same in its physical interpretation on the screen would completely change. As if being opened by two seperate programs. And we are not talking about the files being the same when we talk about ideas, ideas are consequences of what is perceived therefore consequences of the that is copied. Ideas are the effect and in their way, an individual interpretation by how the schematic of an idea is followed by what is transferred.
This idea in itself makes up for the massive hurdle that is misunderstanding between two people, each hearing fundamentally the same things while producing two differing ideas. In summation, an idea is a scrutinized original built on the schematic of that which is perceived and is each independent of a person and their surroundings.
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,
her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,
the corpselike designs deify her to me,
and she is marvelous.
-
A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips
eagers me to receive a curious kiss
upon my own who so long for,
the taste of her, like nothing before.
-
The gorgeous permanent stains of ink
upon her ***** thighs, arms, and calves,
exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin
her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,
could now easily tear me in half.
-
As i try to look away
from that teasing, black lingerie,
she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,
the most wonderful I have ever seen,
so far into my soul she delves that I admit,
I am but a lowly, mortal being.
-
This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel
what some call not a treasure,
she is in all my nightmarish dreams,
and I always owe her the pleasure.
-
I am a slave to her eyes,
that so easily peer through me,
it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,
but the answer always eludes me.
-
Though she is my unholy holiness that
grants me dark in wretched light,
one day I shall pass and our spirits
will lay together for an eternity of
a macabre romantic night.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge, of the new world freeway .
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
I'll electrify you if you want me to dance,
Personify you if you give me your pants,
Exemplify virtue and all of its flaws,
Attempt to find demons, albino bear paws,
Mortify humans with all of my morals,
Live in the sea and converse with the corals,
Bifurcate meaning and dissect the reasons,
Quarter the eights and experience seasons,
Try not to fly if I'm given some wings,
I'll die if I fall, but I i've still got these strings.
Isn't it sweet to discover calamity,
Break through the vortex and slip into sanity?
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 6:10 PM UTC
You and me were born in infinity
Residing in the space between stars
Where candles exemplify your sacred geometry
We travel on vessels created from our hearts
To witness the grandeur of nothingness
The awe-inspiring atmosphere of the heavens
I want to take your hand and press it to
My throat to feel the pulsing life within
And begin a journey into nebulae clouds
Staring at your eyes taking notice
That your hazel irises resemble spiraling galaxies
And their central black holes pull me in
There is much to discover within the cold void
From which we both reside
See the moon glow from the other side
Float in peace with me.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
These are odd times for us, whether we can perceive it or not
It may be that we know but knowing isn't quite as tangible an experience as we'd like
We live as overwhelmed individuals in a layered psychological and cellular construction
Or, be it better or worse, solitary insecurity clusters ignoring screen after screen
Electronics spreading root throughout our air, ground, and following us around
Reality a strange blur between the definite, clear sober now and the insistent, ageless imposition of imagery
Of pixels and posters and places we've never been
Of people that distort our perceptions, degrade our emotions, and misinform us with too many voices
Our entertainment often becoming an intellectual and perceptual tranquiliser
Or a place to inhabit and let go, when the pressures of economic stability and social conscription to labour need to be forgotten, if only for a while
I still hold onto the optimism though
I hold onto it because I have to, because I want to, because I believe in it
It is my abstract fuel, a state of mind that every now and then gives me the pick me up to plod on
The internal negativity clawing at shins reconstructed as a test of masculinity, negativity from the world a test of solidarity
I am not infallible, I move slower sometimes, get lost sometimes, can't quite make it tangible and structured sometimes
I am reminded that I'm not recession proof, that I'm still the system's ***** and sometimes my buttocks aren't raised quite high enough
But..
I keep going. Like we all do. I try to let it exemplify myself a bit more than most, but..
If I can make that girl thank me,
that guy give me a smirk,
that project go a little faster,
that day smell and feel nicer
and that anxious night seem a little more transparent
Through something as simple as trying to be optimistic and mindful of the self
I guess there's something to keeping your chin up
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
You are absolutely the most gorgeous
Modest
Goddess on two feet
Those ambitious
Wished
Auditioned, failed
Had to sign a non-compete
You exemplify amplified
Undeniable
Realism till I’m knocked right off my feet
And meeting you leaves me
Tongue tied
Buy and refund vowels
Because I can barely speak
You are Artemis and Athena
Sometimes meaner
You’ve both the brain
And brawn to back it
Not many times do sights
So right
Prove worthy of me
Being flabbergasted
Mere mortal men’s minds cave in
Bend
And bow at your intricacies
And you blush, turning crimson
Glimpse
As humbleness rushes to your cheeks
You may not feel the heat
But I know the stakes
Grade A
You are prime to me
Prepared, unshared
With utmost care
Rare
And it’s the only time I’ll compare you to meat
I’ll avert my eyes as you rise
Ascend
A gentleman for eternity
Because love was fantasy
Fallacy
Utter blasphemy
Till you made a believer of me
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
A is for anything to end this suffering
B is for broken, breaking like my fragile state
C is for careful, cautious of these eggshells
D is for disaster, destruction of what we had
E is for empty, emotionless cries in the night
F is for false, fake like the lies we tell ourselves
G is for grief, grieving not over the dead but mistakes
H is for horrible, hatred the purest of black
I is for insanity, insomnia plaguing my sleep
J is for jaded, just lacking in many emotional departments
K is for knavish, kiddish behaviour I exemplify
L is for lost, losing faith, happiness and you
M is for mistakes, monster at heart and in action
N is for nonsensical, never-ending
O is for officious, obnoxious demeanour and persona
P is for pathetic, powerless to make the right moves
Q is for quitter, quick to leave and walk away
R is for resentment, relationships aren't for men like me
T is for turmoil, turbulence beneath the wings of trouble
U is for understatement, underestimating
V is for violent, vindictive almost as if by nature
W is for wishful, waiting for something new
X is for xenodochial, but never to those who matter most
Y is for youthful, yokelish and distasteful to be around
Z is for zany, pertaining to the cause of most problems
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
Hunny, you are the honey,
atop my fulfilling parfait.
Oh how you exemplify all the wonderful parts,
of this warm, wet, middle-Earth day.
Just as the yogurt,
your skin so soft and smooth,
and like the banana underneath,
you know how i move.
Vibrant darkness within bursting pomegranate,
full of lovely sensual flavors,
amongst sticky, sweet rehydrated grapes,
just in from space, for my belly you grace.
And the chunks of crunchy granola,
spread out; mixed in,
you’ve got your hard to-do’s,
we are all nuts here in the end.
How you appeal to me, creamy whites,
luminescent undertones,
darkness full of ecstasy,
coconut shreds; delicate like bones
But truly what you have in common,
with this bowl of splendid sustenance,
You are always on my mind,
and like my parfait you are gone.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I walk down the ***** populated hallway with the vines growing inside and out of it and I see my reflection in each passing door. I live just down there — not five feet; hardly taller than me, but not older. I exemplify my worries of the dark by shivering away, jammering teeth and tingling coins in pocket screaming familiar songs into my ear.
A door opens, and for a second, we all hear the universe: all of us, out in the hall. A crystalline rod – the thin kind they use in labs or bars to stir drinks together (both of which are alchemy) – snaps, pouring a silver liquid into the hand of the person who leaves his room. With insanity he glowers at the speed of the gods. Echoes of the word “quicksilver” mutter down the hall, motors flare, and explosions go off.
Each room is the same, but different: infinite capacity with different chemicals, different chemistry, and different emotion.
Afraid, I turn the **** of my own cell, and I enter one billionth of myself, and I am myself. Stammering within my own mind, I quell my heart with symphonies of norm, letting flow thousands of flying fish from the forefront of the fantastic sound.
It does not matter that other people have the same room as I do; it only matters that their rooms are different. Their rooms are cages, as are their hearts, as are their hands. The man in the hallway (short, stubby thing with eyes like a deer) blows ether from his mouth upon the liquid metal in the palm of his digits, and it floats down the way like baking powder or how I’d always imagined snow would look in a blizzard. I can hear all this, and I must divide myself from the whiteness it brings. I hate the bleak mornings it makes.
I would like to open the door and show the silver-to-white stuff that I, too, can throw a gust at things and have them take flight, but it is not the same. Today is a world with solemn toast -- intimidating those with brains.
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 1:12 PM UTC
It seems all great poems are about love.
For me, that's not the case.
It seems, as I read, we revolve around love,
Around this passion, fury, lifelong ache.
It seems that everyone knows what love is,
If they don't, they know what love should be.
It seems everyone desires to experience love,
They think that love will set them free.
That's not the case for me.
These words of longing, of beauty and desire,
Words that paint stars onto the sky,
Are words I cherish, admire and adore,
But not ones I try to exemplify.
I have never been in love.
Maybe one day, I will be.
Maybe one day, I will understand those words.
Perhaps, one day, I will read them and agree.
Today, I'll just try to be me.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
Adding apologies to artillery shells does not amend the action,
And
My brokenness betrays me when it bellows that I have beaten bruises black and blue into your back
But
Crying is a catharsis much too commonplace to convey these casualties.
My doubtful disposition has denied you deliverance from your daring endeavors
Because
Emptying myself to entertain someone else's enormous sense of entitlement
Is
A feeling that frightens my already fragile sense of forwardness.
Glory from a god who glances generously upon us growling ghosts
Is
A Heaven that hurts like hell because happiness is heresy
But
Isolation is an independence I never intended to introduce here.
Juggling jokes and jealousy between juggernauts is jeopardizing my judgement
Because
Kindness is to knowing the truth as kissing is to your knuckles,
It's
Like living life as a lamb but loving a lion.
Missiles gone missing are making me misunderstand my own memory
Yet
Needles have never seemed so necessary as when you're near,
And
Ownership is not an option so we have both become orphans.
Praying to people seems more plausible than pleasing a perfect being
So
I will quantify rather than qualify the quaintness of this quarantine
And
Respectfully reply that paying retribution to a ***** is ridiculous.
Soon something will surface that sends shivers down your spine
But
Today there is only turmoil taking its time to taper off
So
Understand when I utter the word "unify" that I mean us.
Vain and vindictive as you have very well verified being,
If
We worship with what we wish, not what we will,
Our
Exploitation will exemplify an axis on which oxymoron is expedient.
You and your yearning will not yield to yonder threats,
Because
The zeal of this zephyr will carry us to the zenith.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:03 PM UTC