"faker" poems
It's stuck in my head,
Until it's gone,
When I can make endless complaints
Endless back stabs to match.
But till its gone, it is there.
After it's been there and gone,
It is there again.
Every night of everyday
And also in random hours of my days.
I see the old, then I see the new.
It seems my world has turned black and blue.
My heart beats faster
And my eyes: they cry.
I feel I am mourning a loss;
Of someone never born to be able to die.
It's the cases like this
That are always the worst.
You think you've found someone,
When they're not there at all.
So many good times
Have all gone down the drain,
Because everyone's a faker.
Don't you know I hate liars?
You liar, you deceitful and manipulative ****
You *****
I hate you,
I hate you,
And then I hate you even more.
What you have done made me fall to the floor.
I don't know how I can get through this,
Because last time I could just hate,
Which still I am doing.
You make that more difficult.
Because when all the memories
Come back again,
I don't want to believe that was you,
Surely it can't be true?
But I know too well
To be fooled more than once,
Not that there's a way you would make it twice,
Because you hate me too.
It's all because of you.
And her
And the other.
All "best friends" do
Is end up having to stab each other.
You see I am missing,
Someone nonexistent.
I knew it was too good to be true,
But that won't stop me bleeding.
I wish the 'you' I was friends with
Was actually real.
Instead I just feel messed over,
All over again.
I don't want to picture,
Not anymore,
Of what's flashing through my head.
The so many too good times.
They've been damaged again.
I trusted you
As I trusted them all,
Because you have to trust to do anything at all.
Again and again trusting proved to be devastating,
Because there is no one who actually
Has your back.
So no I don't want to picture,
I don't want another picture game.
When I'm talking about you in rants,
The devil is your name.
When I'm speaking I do not have to be sad,
It's only the times that I get to think on my own,
When I feel even more torn down.
When I see you walking around,
I wish you were not.
Do you know not what exactly you all have caused?
I can hear you all talking,
Just like we all used to do,
Then the thousands of memories
Come flooding in once again.
And until I convince myself to dry up my emotions,
I watch the dry river banks
Become diluted without letting the rain fall.
Because my tears;
You never deserved them at all.
I don't want to picture what you may think of me.
If you hate me then go on,
You can resent me as much as you can.
But maybe you'd like to know:
I stood up for you.
Even though it was proved to be true.
I didn't believe it at first,
Because it was you.
How dare you!
If you think I didn't know reasons to take sides,
Didn't you think I would defend you as I did her?
Well I God **** tried!
And if roles were reversed then I would've taken yours,
As it wasn't out of favouritism as it stood,
But because you were so unbelievable
That nothing could be done.
No friendship was saved.
Being civilised?
Well I just try to ignore your name.
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
I've been at hundreds of funerals
Standing beside Fathers
Soon to be posted to Peru
Or to missions for black African babies.
They'd sprinkle caskets like Spring rains,
Burn incense to smudge the dead
With rising smoke signals.
Sounding the advance.
I witnessed pain in the front pews,
The kneelers with thin cushioning.
I prayed fervently for a whosh of wind
To sweep behind me,
Billow my soutane,
And lift the lid;
Prayed for the candle flame to flare,
For the body to rise
As Rathgar did.
He was a faker.
Not like what I saw.
Up close.
On Friday mornings.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
I'm always hungry even though I just ate a while ago
If I go without food for 2 hours my brain works kinda slow
I eat all the time, even when I'm driving
I wonder how it'll be to eat when I'm sky diving
But there's a particular food that I always crave
And if I don't get it, I tend to misbehave
It's amazing and delicious, my favorite cake
I'd go to any lengths for it, no matter what the stake
I'd eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
I'd marry a pâtissier even if he was a sinner
When it comes to cake I show an utmost devotion
My bucket list includes having cake by the ocean
But something happened this summer, which makes me tremble in fear
And now when someone says "Cake" I tend not to go near
I was in Spain, and I was looking for some cake
I was whining and crying; my friend ignorantly sipped her milkshake
So I walked on ahead and finally found a baker
I paused my music; I was listening to Chet Faker
I walked over to him and shouted "I WANT CAKE"
He looked at his buddies and said, "This is the one we take"
The baker and Co. suddenly picked me up; I was too scared to shout
I just wanted my cake and I had no idea what this was about
I tried to escape but it proved to be rather hard
My friend had no idea I was missing; she was looking for an SD card
I didn't wanna think about what might happen, I just wanted to go home
The men had brought me to an outhouse that had a ceiling shaped like a dome
Then they placed me down gently, and were almost too polite
I turned around once I could finally stand and couldn't believe the sight
A crowd was waiting at the back, just waiting to yell "Surprise!"
A man shouted: "You fools! You brought the wrong girl, she isn't even the same size"
They apologized profusely, but honestly I couldn't care less
I just wanted to have my cake and get away from this mess
I walked back past the bakers shop and heard something that gave me déjà vu
"I want cake" said a tall girl; she smiled at me, she didn't have a clue
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
You make me ******* sick.
Every inch of my body
Itches to purge itself of you.
You're **** you're ****
You're worthless.
You're a player,
You're a Faker,
And I ******* hate you.
**** a ****
The end.
lmt
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
I don't know left from right
I don't know what's left from right
I live now in black and white
And lost a fight
But now I'm clear
What comes near
Now I know everything
And that you was a faker
Because you dated fore darea
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
She walked barefoot in the desert and wore desert boots to bed.
My baby was topsy turvy dipsy swervy crossed up curvy clean out of her head.
A cast iron face that kept the truth bound and shackled.
Deep inside her head.
Self deception was her stock in trade and every choice she ever made was reasoned Wearing blinders.The snake that ate her tail
Her logic was.
Circular in nature no ending or beginning. Which guaranteed her winning
Regardless.
But only in her twisty wheelhouse.
Crazy as aa ********* rat.
Twisting facts into tasty pastry.
Seving them up on shiny ware.
Neither here nor either there
Calculating slipknot tension
Telling tales too tall to mention
The daughter of the pretzel maker
Part deluded.Rabid faker.
Pretzel logic
Pretzel minded.
Twisted now and twisted later.
Down the road I go.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
Look upon all my beauty
I'm a traditional rhyme
Written so elegantly
Perfect in every line!
No, look at my free verse style!
I'm not prissy or fussy
I'm free as a bird with a free spirit
That flies within the realm
Of so many possibilities and directions!
Much less inhibited than you!
Nonsense! The camera flashes!
They are taking pictures of me!
Lovely, poetic form of old
Style, as pure as can be!
You're out of your mind!
You traditional snob!
All the oohs and aahs
Are really all for my poetic genius!
Move aside!
And so they soon got into a tussle, words flying everywhere....that is according to Free Verse
Traditional Rhyme felt so robbed
Free Verse, you trouble maker!
You may be the rage of the day!
But to me you are a faker!
Free Verse had such a harsh choke hold
On the throat of Traditional Rhyme
I can rhyme too... but not like you!
Perfectly? No! Not all of the time!
Traditional Rhyme called a truce
Finally accepting both ways
Sure, she had grace and she had style
But Free Verse would not go away
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 2:38 PM UTC
She looks into my eyes with hope
I see her smile, she knows what is coming
I fake a smile back to pretend
Her breathing becomes heavy as I move forward
She grabs my back with her hands
And pulls me on top of her *******
She whispers, "I love you"
I return the favor
To her I am a miracle
To me I am a pretender
A faker who finds her thighs to be a prison
To be trapped in a place where I don't want to be
It'd be easy to release myself
But why would I
When the prison feels so good
When I'd feel the same in between every other pair of thighs
Maybe it is because I'm broken
Maybe it is because I never cared in the first place
Maybe it is because of the one I lost
Maybe I'm just not meant to enjoy it
I finish as I watch her smile in satisfaction
I get off of her and sit on the foot on the bed
She sits up and slowly kisses my neck
I don't in return and gaze off trying to find the hope I once had
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
It’s okay….
I'm just tired.
T-Torn
I-Insecure
R-Ruined
E-Emotional
D-Depressed
No amount of sleep can get rid of the tiredness I feel.
I’m really happy.
H-Hiding
A-Anxious
P-Pretending
P-Pained
Y-Yearning
My smiles are faker than the popular kids
When people try to ask what’s wrong and I tell them, it makes me feel selfish.
S-Self centered
E-Emotional
L-Low
F-Fake
I-Intolerant
S-Shameful
H-Horrible
All my friends look so perfect in my eyes
E-Encouraging
M-Marvelous
M-Magnificent
A-Astonishing
Emma
Q-Quirky
U-Unique
I-Incredible
N-Nice
N-Neat
Quinn
M-Magical
E-Extraordinary
L-Loving
E-Exceptional
Mele
L-Loyal
E-Empathetic
A-Amazing
R-Radiant
S-Supportive
I-Inspiring
And Learsi
I want to be as selfless and amazing as them but this thing inside my head says I’m not good enough to be.
J-Jealous
O-Obnoxious
C-Clumsy
E-Exhausting
L-Liar
Y-Yielding
N-Nuisance
These are more than just words.
j.b
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 2:26 PM UTC
"Whose fault is this?"
Nobody knows, nobody wanted to come out,
Too silent to hear a crack sound,
Yes, the offender is too powerful,
and make us "zip" our mouth.
Forced us to point our finger at poor people,
and made us feel guilty.
This weakness kept hunting us down
and "dance" with us on the ground.
Boy or girl, you can cry
but how long?
"How long can I endure ?"
I still do not know the answer.
While we are "making" the world more worst,
we still lose deep in our minds.
Afraid to come out, afraid to speak out loud,
Afraid to fight back and keep "lying" to ourselves.
"When we could stand together?"
"When the cry would stop?"
"When does the dream become true?"
Today I am standing on my own feet to fight's back, tomorrow I am happy,
Today I stopped the cry to makes a great move and said "no" loudly,
Today I came out as a "real" person, no faker, no more "questions".
Yes, today, You and I can change the "questions" to reality.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
Invisibility;
it need not mean
to not physically be seen,
for eyes look on,
taking in the
loneliness
I don;
crowds and rooms
bursting loud with tunes,
faces happily grimacing,
I am grimacing back,
revelry I am feigning,
as on spins the DJ track;
professional smile-maker,
the most experienced faker,
regarded by passerbyers,
they know nothing of my
insides on fire;
room crowded
and still alone,
optimism shrouded
by apathetic groan;
You
see
"me,"
but
you
don't
see
me;
Invisibility.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
I'll do nothing...
bad in life that will make my mother cry.
You can disgrace me, debase me, tie me to a railroad track.
But once the tears flow from my beloved mother, there's no putting them back.
I'll do nothing, bear this in mind and hear it,
I'll do nothing that will diminish her spirit.
I wont let evil near it.
I'll honor her by being like her, and proudly cheer it.
A mother is nurture, she is the birth of nature.
A teacher not a taker, a mentor not a faker.
The ultimate God given talent, a human being maker.
She forsakes hers for the needs of yours,
with dreams of high aspirations of her off- spring for,
nothing less, till their health and happiness soar.
Who else in this jaded,
complicated,
world gives unconditional love.
Who else has you in their thoughts expressly, wantonly.
Who else has you in their thoughts religously, constantly.
Concerned about your wants and needs, worries and dreads,
doesn't want to pry, so she prays for you instead.
Who else.
No one else!
I'll do nothing bad in life that will make my mother cry.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 7:55 PM UTC
I'd like to be lovely to you, again
I'd like to matter to you again
I'd really like to receive flirty texts from you again
I'd really like to be the girl you tell your friends about again
But you've changed
And I hate your friends
I'm no lovely, you were lying
And as pretty as the lie was, I'm done with your lies
The truth is, I never really mattered to you
Girls don't matter to you, you play us like we can't be hurt
I don't even want to matter to you, because you're messed up dude
You're a liar, and a cheater, and faker, and an *******
You are fake sorry, fake understanding, fake trustworthy, fake caring,
You are fake.
I don't need your ****
I have enough of my own
I really believe, by the end of this year, I can be happy again
Like I was two years ago
And the only real way for me to achieve that
Is to not get mixed up with you again.
I'm not tangling my emotions in your words
The truth is
I WILL NEVER BE HER
So don't waste my time
Stop texting me
Stop telling me you're sorry, you're lying
Stop pretending you knew me
And stop believing me when I say I'm fine
Goodbye.
Just know, I don't have a particularly high opinion of myself
But that being said,
even though I'll never be her
She will never be me
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
They found her sprawled back there in the alley.
Dead. Asleep in the Lily of the Valley.
She was obscene and cold, flat on her back,
All for a **** hit of five dollar crack.
Beneath the grime and the blood and the gore,
The innocence, before she was a *****
Could not be seen for she met her maker,
A one hundred percent street-wise faker.
Dead blue eyes, peroxide hair, a wild vine,
Earrings in her nose, tongue; defiant sign
To the world that she is a wild child,
Who many years ago learned not to smile.
There was one thing which stood out about her,
Where everything thing else was an ****** blur.
A gold cross on a chain under her throat.
It looked out of place, as a sable coat.
A gold cross, from her unknown, murky past?
A present from someone she held onto fast?
A detective, hardened to scenes such as this,
He shuddered, covered her with a low hiss.
Blue strobe lights lit up the night near the dump,
Police milled around the unmoving lump,
Keeping the official face was a test,
Sheet covered her body, outlined her breast.
Each man, woman, working the dreadful scene,
Spoke terse, if at all, about the *** queen.
Many times they'd been called out in the night
To look at and ponder similar sights.
How much can one take before giving in
To the horror and suppress it with gin?
The one, lying still, sculptured by a fiend,
Wicked hand carving out her end, not clean.
She came to this end living the life she did,
But she was much than a ***** on the skids.
God, a detective screamed at the slaughter
Please don't let this happen to my daughter.
©August 4, 2003 / Jerry Pat Bolton
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
Lover
Linker
Licker
Killer
Thriller
Sucker
Thinker
Stinker
Maker
Shaker
Faker
Breaker
******
Burner
Crier
Cutter
Perforator
Shooter
Impaler
******
oh I forgot cannibal
and
I'd love to have you to dinner
.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
hey, you say
he smiles and you
light up
he throws his arm around you
and replies, hey, bud
you want to cry and trace his lips
and make him
mutter your name
while you have
your tongue in his mouth
you want to touch him,
trace the map of your heart
all over his skin
but he can't know
he won't know
if only he knew you'd be dead meat
with ****** carved on your skin
she grins at you
and loops her arm through yours
and shows you her bra
does this dress make me look fat
and you wish you could say
you're beautiful
and touch her back as you
slide the dress down her sides
but she chuckles and says
i think that boy is cute
why won't he ask me out
and you know
she can never know
she won't ever know
if you ever touch her
she'll push you away
yell, ew, a ****
you're oh so pretentious
you, such little poser
you've only ever been with guys
you don't know what it's like
to be with a lady
what a grand faker
you're so not special
shut the **** up
you're being ridiculous
don't you like ***
well you've never had it
find someone to put you in bed
I promise you'll like it
the best time you've ever had
now don't be a freak
here's something unheard
not in *** ed
and not at home
who sleeps with whom
is a business of their own
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
Be you! Because there is only one you! Don't be a copy of someone's reflection or a con artist of someone else, when you can be your own person, a unique creation! You shouldn't want to see them, her or him you should want to see you in the mirror. God didn't put you on this earth to be a copy of a person. People like to look like everyone else, as if it was the new trend. And faker then a barbie doll. Being my own person and actin myself makes me feel free and make me feel like I don't have to put a act on in front of people just to fit in. You can do this and that to fit in but at the end of the day you're not going to have no real friends, just people that sit in your face every day acting like there your friend when there not! Nonconformity is all about being a leader which is basically being yourself and Going against the grain, if you're not a leader then you're a follower and that wears out fast. So basically just be yourself!! #nonconformity
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
Hey, you.
Yeah, you. The liar.
The deceiver.
The faker.
Guess what?
I see you.
I see right through your fake bloom.
No plant is always green.
Green and motionless,
Gathering dust in the corner.
It's really not hard.
Anyone who gets close enough can see you're fake.
I don't care how lifelike you are.
You're still made of plastic in the end.
The beauty of a wilted blossom is foreign to you.
Move along.
I want nothing with you.
Or those who set you up to show.
Give me the real thing.
A flower that takes watering,
And that will eventually die.
Not this fake plastic imitation.
No, give me fleeting life,
Not the lie of immortality and perfection.
At first I thought you looked good.
Thought I'd like you around.
But your greens have become sickly,
Your reds and blues dim,
Covered with a film of dust.
Only the dead gather dust like that.
Stop smiling.
Stop laughing.
Stop talking.
Start thinking,
Start breathing.
Start living.
Maybe then we'll be friends.
Maybe then it will work.
Not until then.
No for now, keep moving.
Cause I see you.
Clear as day.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
Lost inside a ***clockwork
Heart attack***
Waiting to happen
Ticking and cracking
The silence in half with a second's helping
I was hungry and delving deeper into somnambulance
Gambling my waking minutes
Away with a hazy resemblance of life
The sharpest of minds couldn't cut it out
This troubled route gets more fractured with each forced laughter
Hours pass faster the faker my happiness becomes
I scrape by on a yearly basis as my days have gone numb
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 6:26 PM UTC
There's too much of me
So I slice into parts
Don't know who I am
Who I was
Where to start
My fingertips stained
a raspberry color
Let's cut off another
Another
Another
My softness dismantled
Set the mood
light some candles
This hole inside grows
So I must learn to handle
Those times where my head was held under water
Men dont give a **** if "that's somebodys daughter"
When all that you've taught me is I should be better
I think of my past self and send em a letter
The version of me that was put under ground
Carving into myself cause I cant speak out loud
Skipping breakfast and dinner or stuffing our faces
For some sense of control
To hope it erases
The feeling inside
that all that you can be
Is how flesh meat and bone
Hangs off of your body
When your own heart could stop
From barely a flutter
Flesh of the womb
Laying wet in the gutter
Taking what's ours
They go on with their lives
Resorted to tonics and herbs
Backyards and midwives
He said it's not that bad
you ******* faker
Beat in her face
Just to text her phone later
All my exes are crazy
I just wanted to bang her
Cut her down from the rafters
when you know what hanged her
It's funny it's sad
at the end of the day
We're in hell together
Across hot coals we lay
Dress your own wounds
Don't bend over for them
Instead let's
Redacted
Redacted
Redacted
Aug 9, 2023
Aug 9, 2023 at 12:00 AM UTC
He travels the sphere
As he sail across
the ocean of fear
He has thirst for experience
Just like hunters eye for a deer
He carries his knapsack
Ready to set off for a journey
With 2 years before his comeback
He leaves the land of brasa
Playin' his Red Hot Chili soundtrack
Enamored by her glance
He met this gal
He offers her to dance
Singing their hearts out
As if he was stuck in a trance
Little did he know she's a faker--
Alluring travellers with one deep gaze
Her ability to paralyse the sufferer
And words as sharp as knife
Makes her one hell of a lucifer
From a heartbreaker
He thought he had a chance
He swore to never wander
And to not set foot
In another land ever
again
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
It was the turning point of my youth.
The age I realized,
“If I dig far enough into my mind, I can eventually find gold.”
So I stood in the middle of the street of my hometown, stared into the sky and begged for answers.
(Answers I was too affected to search for in front of me)
It didn’t hear my questions, of course,
so I made up the answers myself and made those answers my religion.
I guess I wanted to feel responsible for my maker’s omnipotence.
Always feeling misunderstood, I ignored those who opposed me and opened my ears to those alike. I sang along and sang into a mic like I was atop a podium.
I felt special and entitled.
I wanted to be heard like the rest of them and die with my shrill cry echoing for all eternity until eternity died.
Now, I’m beginning to see my skin fold and my eyes inflame.
I look back on past thoughts and deride.
How embarrassing it is to have zero experience and claim to have lived like you’ve lived nine lives.
Since, I’ve thrown out many records along with my many bloated ideas
because my neck has become exhausted from holding my thick nose in the air.
And my religion keeps shrinking the drunker I get with loneliness
and now I finally have room to see who my maker has made: a faker.
All my idols are ********
Dressed as angels
All my idols are crooks
Dressed as victims
All my idols are artists
Dressed as… well… whoever they want you to see.
Almost as well dressed as me
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 9:49 AM UTC
She fell from the skies
Couldn't keep floating on the lies
Pretending to be
What everyone wanted to see
An angel with papier-mâché wings
She was a Lamborghini riddled with dings
But to all she was a hottie
Driving around in a stolen Bugatti
Saying all the right things in your ear
If she couldn't have her way shed a tear
All those around her wanted
To give her all she desired undaunted
None the wiser
The next burst from this geyser
Could obliterate them all
It seemed she would never fall
From the clouds she rode
Even as her halo no longer glowed
Because all were blind
None the secret could find
But all this caught up to her
Only so much could be hidden
Behind the sheer gossamer
Of their eyes a veil eaten away by lichen
Truth be told she was still a breath taker
But the joy ride was over for this faker...
© okpoet
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:04 AM UTC
Suddenly surreal
I feel milk upon the water
blood and slaughter
Dada
isms
watching life through coloured prisms.
and it hits me
pits me
against
the lot of them.
The squandered dreams of broken men and I lay me in the gutter dying
( next verse )
why do I even bother trying
It's just a crock, not even gold
Violent Violet sold the story and got her fifteen minutes of fame
alas no glory, but
what did she expect?
I expected just a little more from these ****** where Babylon is gushing from their lips and all I got were camels,
ships to ride across the desert which was I and of my making,
can't fake a faker and so I take you down with me.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC