"frauds" poems
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.
Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.
Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.
It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate
fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is
everything we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:58 PM UTC
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.
Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.
Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.
It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness
and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything
we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies,
It was the cruelty of man to man's fellow man,
That caused his young heart to break,
It filled him with sorrow to learn that tomorrow,
There was no difference or change he could make.
First there's the teen with no hopes or dreams,
Who holds the gun to his head,
If only we had heard that four letter word,
"Help" and he might not be dead,
But parents ignore a child's implore,
Move along there is nothing to see,
Then comes the day when he's taken away,
Pushed over the edge by the bully.
The starving young pup who lies all beaten up,
By the teenagers too cool for school,
They've come to learn that next it's their turn,
Drunk fathers are awfully cruel,
Or perhaps the poor homeless just hoping for kindness,
And ends up completely ignored,
We can grumble and shout from our comfy warm house,
That most likely, they're all just big frauds.
Then there comes war the thing all Governments adore,
They can line up their pockets with gold,
The war against terror? Or just the oil endeavour?
It doesn't matter soldiers do as they're told,
"An air strike for peace" is the press release,
As civilians are rained on by bombs,
Can they really believe that what's been achieved,
Is greater than the innocent lives that are gone?
He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
This is for my generation.
A generation full of selfies, in short for selfish.
A generation of women murdering their own unborn babies.
Woman walk around half dressed hoping a man will grant them respect.
As they reclaim their lives, renaming it feminism at it's best.
This is for my generation.
A generation of men that rather play with their hands.
Rather than creating work out of their bare hands.
Lusting for women as if we were created for one night stands.
We are the millennials. We're full of worldly distractions.
Looking for our parents to be the lending tree.
Since we spend most of our money on ***** & ****
This is for my generation.
Can't you see we're slowly dying off? We are becoming too self involved.
While every pleasure keeps causing our own demise.
We're too stubborn to realize our ways are flawed.
We mask it and look for love in other people. Yet, we feel emptier when the love isn't reciprocated. Some call this "unrequited love".
This is for my generation.
I'm here to tell you that, you are loved, you are cherished, and you can be forgiven. You can be saved, not by your works or how much money you make.
If you only believe what He did for you on the cross.
The perfect blood Atonement.
We are the Godless generation. Most would say they believe in evolution, perhaps others would mention God.
This is for my generation.
See, Jesus didn't come for the religious people. In fact, he called them frauds. He's more than just a bunch of rules and laws. In reality, He only came to save the lost. Which lead him to be hated, beaten and killed on a cross. 3 days later, He rose from the dead something Allah never did.
Now that our King is risen, He's offering a free gift of salvation. That's why it's called Grace. Being coming Christian doesn't make you perfect, don't get it twisted. I'm just a forgiven sinner by His definition.
The choice is yours.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 3:43 AM UTC
This world is full of liars
Cheaters
Frauds
Trash talkers
No good doers
And people who will hurt you
But with you they don’t even exist, with you I feel my worries wash away
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
Please come and find me.
Playful whispers in the dark.
Who am I calling?
I suppose...
My baby,
Can I call you baby?
O sweet lullabyes in the night,
Hold me in mild constriction.
Squeeze a little bit tighter, love.
I don't know how much time I have left.
Delusional!
Alone on the vacuum.
Scratching at air for any oxygen my depraved lungs can find,
Suffocating on your love,
Choking on your divinity.
Oh darling,
My sweet crimson lover
Dancing on the bridge of death at the break of dawn,
You swing me in your arms,
Tight tongue behind your violent grin,
Your hair grows stars, and your arms bend time,
my fatal partner in a tango to the edge of the earth.
Heartless as you torture me,
Wrench my soul playfully,
Foolishly and ignorantly,
Pulling my strings.
Enacting
autopilot daydreams
Painting mindless patterns
On an inky black sky,
Orange slices on existential beach
Sparkling warm coast,
The cosmos like a bright sunny day above.
Bitter ashes mix and churn with the sand,
I'm sinking,
Quickly,
Help me!
But you just watch.
And I sink until I hit the bottom
And there I lie,
Falling asleep to as my grief fills the ocean.
The zodiac locked fate,
Fish and Virgins! Fish and Virgins!
Poets and failures,
Academics and frauds,
Spring and summer to autumn and madness,
My eternal indigo diary,
My blueberry lipstick,
My lavender kiss.
Leaving light stains on my love-lorn letters,
Mailed to you on Sunday,
Delivered along the Milky Way.
Waiting emptily,
In an empty white asylum,
With an empty mind,
Waiting for you,
My answer,
My meaning,
My red and blue jumper.
Not standing up to stretch,
But sitting still,
Letting my bones grow stiff,
To creak under my weight,
Like an old back porch,
Made for a pair of old lovers,
Desolate,
Withered by neglect,
Empty.
A pointless pray for solace,
In hope you will come,
My prince of waves,
My fifth science,
My escape from this never ending sporadic spiral down into the murky, dusty, purple fog of asinine and inane.
My peace of mind.
My baby.
Can I call you baby?
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:51 PM UTC
Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!
Sick
Wearied
Weak?
Looking in all the wrong places?
Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?
Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!
Dog nights seem more teething!!!!
Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!
The I loveth thou's
And thou more....
Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,
Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!
Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?
A pity to God
And me!!!!
Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!
Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
You are the light
streaming through the wings of a Phengaris Arion, butterfly.
The real blue a divergence
from the brilliant hybrid lanterns,
your radiant eyes.
I walked in reckless,
The slash the superheated steel,
ate the sea and drank the sky, died, and flew.
From the outside I came to you,
a reflection, you, yourself,
pineapple slices on banana leaf.
Curtain the day, let the glass go dark,
place the mattress on the lawn,
spawn nightmares in the street,
revel in an autumn rain, the dull dark white,
the blazing black awaiting dawn.
Your beauty is a tempest or swirling currents,
that caress all the senses, for it lies not only before the eye,
but in the content of action and creation, the heart in your endeavors.
Forget the insincere frauds and sharks scenting sorrow,
and feeding on misery in a frenzy.
We together can blunt the teeth of the shark with our joy.
Rose pink and fuchsia, euphoric light.
The Creature from the Black Lagoon on a drive in big screen,
black and white in the night. The air is scented electric.
Bright waters ripple in the spaces between us.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
Do we notice the finer things in life? The husband's and wives, children that's been conceived! Thou and they are all thou needeth when thy roof springs its leak!
Sick
Wearied
Weak?
Looking in all the wrong places?
Itinerant in the stagnative imagination's
For don't even the mammals haveth a place to stay?
Like the son of man
I haveth no chapel
For this head to consecretly layeth!!!
Dog nights seem more teething!!!!
Vestige of all beauty
You've left that still life post,
Wherein thy mantra's I seeketh the most!!!
The I loveth thou's
And thou more....
Deluge of happiness
Covereth me
Bury me
In atmospheric condition,
Oh man didst thou not mention?
The plaques to ***** it's protract sorrow!!!!
Hath society made materialism
And the dollar sign
Their romantic gesture?
A pity to God
And me!!!!
Mobs of fleas
To calleth what they maketh
MANIFESTED TESTIMONIES!!!!
Wherein the frauds
Fakes
And phonies
Art thy t.v magnate stars!!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
Alone with this desk,
And a notebook chock-fulled with paper;
Endless.. he chomp everything away.
Things truly aren’t easy,
The silence makes it harder.
Hey music, fill the air;
For not all truths,
But laughs of frauds may break out.
Just like the old days.
Just like the lady boss,
Just..maybe.
There should be dancing all around,
Where crowds should chip in
And take things in stern.
Errands were not decors –
Trespass! Like mini ciphers,
Digits, letters, they knock the drill out.
Only a couple more days left,
But in ignominy,
This generation may fall;
How pitiable..
With such marks and inkblots,
The source remains unrecognized.
They’re used to seize papers like that,
Although such are committing theft already.
Left were words,
Can’t spell it unerringly;
Yet the hearsays divulged its address,
So now, it’s time to slam this tome;
End the toil that has always been the crook!
Go outside,
For the sun’s rays are there!
Goodbye to this aged chair,
And to this notebook full of nicks,
With new freedom,
We shall embrace..
Everything.. “Ciao” to what’s new,
‘Coz this is the real world!
Oh college days!
(7/25/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
the loneliness is killing me alive
it’s feasting off my fragile being
alone, locked up in my own four walls
i’m slowly starting to go berserk
i need something, just something
that does something to me
a lonely tear rolls down my face
a trembling ocean underneath my eyelids
maybe i do suffer from dopamine deficiency
maybe i am for being against it
and maybe i just have to stop believing all of the diagnoses of the frauds around me
as fast as the loneliness took me in
and the tears came
it stopped again
and the only thing remaining
was this irrepressible desire
for more more and more
May 15, 2023
May 15, 2023 at 2:04 PM UTC
Like the chef who hates to eat
The playwright who cannot act,
The clothing designer, a nudist,
The brave hero, so shy, a stammerer,
The musician, a deaf mute,
The architect, who live in a tent,
I am a writer who hates to type, for his fingers disconnect his eyes, his brain his insane
I am the father, who knows not his own children,
I am the man who hates to shave, and shaves twice daily,
The man who knows nothing of nature, but writes
in and of it constantly.
The man beset by endless money worries,
Who gives his capital away to charity in increments of thousands,
I am the man that never passes a street beggar,
Even the obvious frauds,
Without giving them a bill, and a god bless you,
I am the man that would gladly die young whose
Mother lived to ninty eight and gene'd up him good,
I don't know what you want from me.
I write to please. But I seem incapable of
Giving, paving streets with words you what u want to hear.
Moon, June, pill, **** me me me be crap on this
I am the chef who cannot cook
The nudist ashamed of his body
The stammered into silence
The mute who screams inside till deaf with frustration
I writer of thin air, the unfair. I know not what
You want of me.
But I weep with frustration at the paucity of my expression,
Good god my final destination not close enough
In the hands of strangers, rejection
In mine own, verbal strangulation
Even
Whatever
Is
Insufficiently
Disdainful
Painful
I cannot give you enough of/if me to satisfy
What is it you want from me
I will write to displease
Why not do
What I do best
Anyway
Secure that this voice
Is lost among the voices
Answering
whatever
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 1:34 AM UTC
A faith we fancy is that freedom is fabricated and forged for us by our forefathers who fought and forced their foes to forfeit their feud. They fended fiercely and defended fearlessly a fictionalized fact, freedom, filtered with fire and flame. A few fell to be famed fellows of the future while a fraction of the fraternity are farewelled faceless.
All those frigid flashback brought-forth what we framed and fantasized as freewill and forbade freaks to falsify our fascination.
It all falters as we fathom that freedom didn't fade ,but w/o a fons-et-ergo, a foolish fairytale foretold for us to falsely follow a formula for the foremen to fortify the fake façade of freedom while we flounder and they float.
And if we flush and fracture their folderol, we are flagged as flagitious, frauds and fellons.
For the feasibility of freedom is a mere ****** Fuckery to **** us.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
I tasted every bitter lie
As you shoved them down my throat
Now I'm full of poison-soaked phrases
Badly in need of an antidote
Lost promises rest in my abdomen
Next to the deception I was fed
I need a cure for untrue words
Before this illness renders me dead
Fallacies come crawling back up
Venom rising in my windpipe
Sick to my stomach with acceptance
Your falsehoods have become overripe
I can't contain the toxic deceit
It's overflowing from my gut
Excuses pour out from my mouth
Alibis Ive managed to rebut
The ***** burns my weary tongue
Sour as it leaves my lips
Betrayal has me feeling queasy
Unwell from hearing your rehearsed scripts
My stomach empties it's contents
Spewing intricate facades
Until it is rid of all the
Charades, illusions, and frauds
Infected with dishonesty
My body is rocked by unease
I've taken a turn for the worse
Consumed by this relentless disease
This virus I have come down with
Takes it's toll on my heart and mind
I grow more fatigued each day
But relief I have yet to find
Chills, shakes, soreness, and migraines
Plague my organs, bones, and skin
My muscles are endlessly cramping
I loathe the fever I'm burning in
I do not know why I feast on your
contaminated reality
I'm sure if I continue to
I will soon be a fatality
My health is deteriorating
Still i dine on fantasies unreal
I hope for a miracle pill but
My flesh may not be able to heal
I fear I'll be plagued as long as I
Swallow your lies, deranged and uncouth
The cure I have been longing for
is a simple medicine called Truth
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 5:33 AM UTC
Versifyin'
Isn't dyin',
But man,
It's hard to do.
Words and lines
Sound like cliches,
What once
Was old
Is new..
Familiar phrases
Crowd the pages,
Causing such to do.
Can anyone write
Anything new.
Did I write that;
Overhear a wit?
Read it in the loo?
I'll note it down,
Sit,
Sweat and swap,
Get off the ***
And write it.
I don't purloin
Pretty Woman
Because Roy
Is older than me.
To write Yesterday
Is almost to say,
I've hijacked
Sir McCartney.
Write Daffodils,
And see what thrills
That word brings to you.
We may overuse them,
Unwittingly
Abuse them,
And with some we amuse,
But they're ours,
Put to good use
With me.
The number of chords
Limits the hordes;
Repetition ensues,
The decry is sung:
I've heard that song before.
The great ones of writing
Are cause for citing,
By we and me and you.
Can't contrast love to roses,
Shakespeare's told us;
Can't compare eyes to stars,
Lips to petals:
To say,
Your soft, white skin
Is an ink-black sin.
And Beautiful should not
Be used as such.
If one must use it,
One needs
A thesaurus.
Thee, Thine, and Shall
Have taken their toll;
Like Death,
Be not proud.
Be the chosen one,
You know how.
Words and phrases
Are replete;
Too well known
Not to repeat.
They're in
Our vernacular
To be used by
Any author.
But verbatim
Copying's outlawed.
The copy cops
Finger-print
The frauds.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
pasty white ghosts haunt
the corpse blue cornfields of Iowa
whispering wisps of smoke
shimmering shadows of the past
setting the pace for the rat race
that is the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election
senators billionaires doctors
frauds liars fools
campaigning for selection in an
archaic and outdated
form of governance
witness the spectacle
the orgastic worship
of solipsistic oligarchs
bloated by their own
sycophantic rhetoric
it's just another form
of all-American
entertainment
each orator's charismatic adage
froths forth from a
throat like a grave
pragmatism throttles hope
as we stoke the fires of
self-indulgence and neglect
the fact that we acquiesced
as another deceiver stole votes
we're choking on placebo pills
every ballot cast is another act of apathy
escapism pleading vainly for a
savior to rescue our sick society but
these hands didn't evolve so we could
collect a representative to lead us
blindly into one fiasco after another
these fingers penned
humanity's symphonies and
these calloused palms have
toiled for years under an apathetic sun
we learned to make love
using our fingertips and
with these fists
we could chart a new path
but only if we raise them in
defiance
our only chance is leaderless resistance
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
You claim you are an activist,
but I'm sure you've not done a ******* thing.
Whining on the internet is a new old fashioned fling.
"I oppose the government and the freedom it tries to take!"
While you're drinking decaf lattes and you claim there will be cake.
#Iamafakehipsterdouchefag
Oh go **** yourself.
I cannot take you seriously, you god **** fakes and frauds.
You exist for mere attention and the undeserved applause.
I will not take a side and my mind will remain free.
To the past.
To the present.
And to the future,
it shall be.
To the liberals crying "IGNORANCE"! And the conservatives crying "OPPRESSION"!
I will not be a part of your self full-filling subjection.
So take that mask off and give us a "true" confession.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:58 AM UTC
This world has a lot to take in.
It turns and turns stopping for no one
While I just sit and take it all in,
Take turns, take turns. Waiting for the next one.
No, this first-grade paradigm
That controls how I think and see what's fair
Doesn't really apply this time.
Cause first-grade knowledge isn't for just anywhere.
It's for the classroom,
The safe room.
The place where I sit and wait room.
I'm dying just to break through.
But I can't. See they hate you.
They take what they think is theirs.
Never waiting for the rule of turns.
Never thinking how the world fares.
When every bridge they cross burns.
What about the rest of us?
How are we supposed to move forward?
When none but the "very best" of us
Move on past our story's fore-word?
It's horrible and grueling.
Cause the "special ones" are ruling.
They ask, "Who you fooling?"
You'll always be a normal.
Why can't we all be special ones?
Why can't we all have that privilege?
Why must we all be the fretful ones,
Always worried about our image?
Worried that we won't look right.
Or that we won't be up to *****
Cause when we take off our makeup each night
We no longer feel like enough.
No, it's too much.
Our minds are filled with thus and such.
But thus and such are just a crutch.
When we aren't enough.
At least, that's what they tell us.
Make us think we have to be gods.
Cause honestly that's the best way to sell us.
It doesn't matter if they're frauds.
See Humanity longs to be sufficient.
Able to satisfy itself.
So we do what we can with vision.
But leave our skills up on the shelf.
It doesn't matter or make sense.
To make some sort of recompense
When we never lost our innocence
Except by failing ourselves.
See, we fail to see our potential.
That special thing that makes us us.
But in the end it's the most essential.
It's the only thing we can trust.
Whether it's our brain, or our brawn,
Our very will to survive.
It's the very thing that let's us press on
The only think that makes us alive.
We have talents, our gifts.
But our spirits they need lifts
That come through paradigm shifts
From what's fair to what's real.
It's a hard disparity to master.
But in the end it's always alright.
Cause it's only part of growing up.
Seeing the changes that came overnight.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 9:57 AM UTC
Gallant knights sweeping forth
A brave war they seek ahead
They can't seem to shake the feeling of stress forming storms that wish them dead
//One dreams of a life with the "perfect" girl
Another ponders a life of endless wealth
This one wants of food and clothes
That one wants to just be known
//But what none could see
And what none could plan
Is that world would come crashing in
//The vivacious boat full of ***** and broads
Seemed also to be full of snakes and frauds
//With every laugh and hearty drink
There seemed to be an equal thunder clap
They couldn't hide from the beast outside
That wished to swallow them whole and be satisfied
//Enemies can be hidden, and enemies can be shown, but not all trials and tribulations can be faced on your own
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
Here I sit, stale as a pile of ****
Here I sit, wasting my wit...
Nothing to inspire...
Nothing to remember...
No deep message to get.
Im jus' killin time...
Writin' lines that rhyme.
Freestylin' off the fingers as fast as I can think.
Flyin' off the handle...
Im ele-mental...call me Zinc.
Secure in my manly dreams, not afraid to wear pink.
I'm a fan of good things, I speak them in tongue and write them in ink.
Im fed up with frauds and emo kids that think they're rock stars...
And smokers inhaling tar sticks...
In their smokey bars...that smell like ****
I dont get it.
A couple things I'll never miss.
But here I sit, wasting my wit.
These are just a few frustrations I'd like to forget.
Mar 2, 2010
Mar 2, 2010 at 10:46 PM UTC
I wake up and feel something is askew.
Then I remember what I heard last night on the news.
Then I push it aside and turn on the TV.
I’m sure someone can deal with it better than me!
Our politics are failing. Society’s flailing.
Getting’ crushed under the weight of our own pompous detailing.
But I don’t mind, there’s nothing I can do.
I’ll just grab a bite, get another tattoo.
Maybe by the time I’m done, it’ll have worked itself out.
If it hasn’t I’ll just shut my eyes and think of something else!
I guess I could try to make a difference,
But I’ve got more important things I have to deal with.
Like the season finale of my favorite show,
A bottle of Jack to finish and a party to throw!
I guess I can try to help out, if I’ve got the time. We’ll see.
Hey, look! Beer over there is buy-one-get-one-free!
I gotta stock up for the big game tonight.
Gotta go. I’m sure you got the problem covered, right?
Drunks and liars and posers, you’re fired.
Idiots, ********* worldwide mob masses.
Outcasts that walk alone, self-loathers, homophobes.
Jesus freaks. One more drink. Intelligence levels sink.
Dumb jocks and ****** Gangbangers. Guerilla wars.
Drop the dime, save the time. Pretend you’ve lost your mind.
Uppers and downers. Immigrants, minors.
Emos and cheaters, and ******* wife-beaters.
****** ex-girlfriends, freaks, frauds, text message sends.
Alcoholics relapsing. Governments collapsing.
Oil spills, anything for thrills. Hold on, just one more ****
Suicide bombers, no mothers, no fathers.
This world’s so ****** up, how will it end up?
I don’t wanna know, don’t wanna see.
Don’t make me face reality!
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
I hear the drums beating a long the ****** city
Hearing only the whispers of strangers
I hear only hear talk of war and misanthropy
Nothing good on the news
Fear and panic is rampant through my mind
The complacent the happy ones hope for the better future
and here I am seeing the evil side of humanity
the apathetic side of humanity
the falseness the false hopes
the ugly truth falls on my head like the mid morning rain
it’s like yesterday my friends withered away
I feel this sense of estrangement for others that i can’t begin to fully understand
it’s like a never ending maze that is making me a blind social outcast
breaking me down to my very foundations
stirring up my inner feelings of anger ,hate ,self destruction
detesting logic for emotional rage that I somehow need to tame
thoughts expectations emotions racing through my ever vulnerable spirit
I gradually become more withdrawn from people as I age
I see sometimes only frauds and selfishness
fates knocking down at my door
is there a bright essence of happiness that I will find a long this peculiar road called life ?
am I meant to fall by the wayside; to serve as warnings to the rest of us; signs posts along the way...... these thoughts are racing in my awakened mind but in vain I’m silent
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC
Acquaintances and ... " Friends " ...
This Nonsense ... NEVER Ends ... !!!!
Who WITHIN ... " Your Crew " ...
Will Be There Til' ... The End ... ???
Who Are Those ...
Who You Can ... " Trust " ... ???
Who Will Make You ...
Want To ... CUSS ... !?! ...
Acquaintances ...
Are Often .............................. Cold .....
While ...
FAKE Friends ...
Will Come and .................................................. Go .....
When They See Your ...
..... ATTITUDE .....
Is ... DIFFERENT To ...
Their ... Simple Views ...
Do You KEEP ...
FOOLS Around You ... ?!?
Just So You ...
Can Have A ... " Crew " ...
of People ... Who ...
DEEP DOWN You ... **** ... !?!
Just To PROVE ...
...... That .....
You're ... " The MAN " ... ?!?
This Stuff I ...
DON'T UNDERSTAND ... !?!?!
They Won't Be There ...
When You Stand ... ON YOUR OWN ...
Or When You HIT ...
A ... TROUBLED Zone ... !!!
REMEMBER What Happened ...
In ... " Revenge of The Sith " ...
When They TURNED ...
They Turned SO QUICK ...
Jedi Died ...
Cos They Got ... HIT ... !!!
Just Like THAT ...
NO MORE ... " Friendship " ...
Friends Will Always ...
RUN Their Lips ...
Til' Your Life ...
Takes That ... " BIG dip " ... !!!!!
When You NEED Them ...
To ............. HELP YOU ..............
They Will ..... Leave You ......
Feeling ......... " BLUE " ......
Take My Advice Folks ...
PLEASE BE ... " Shrewd " ... !!!
In ... WHO You Have ...
Surrounding You ...
Make Sure They ...
RESPECT Your Views ...
... " Acquaintances " ...
Like To ... USE You ... !!!
TRUE Friends HELP ...
When You ... " Feel Blue " ... !!!
These ARE Words ...
You KNOW ... ARE TRUE ... !!!!!!!!!
This Applies ...
To ... FAMILY TOO ... !!!
Some Are NOT ...
TRUE Friends To You ...
DON'T Think Cos' ...
Your Blood Types MATCH ...
That They'll Choose You ...
Before Some ... CASH ... !!!
They'll Make A DASH ...
Just Like The FLASH ... !!!!
Once They've Got ...
Their ... Money Stash ... !!!!
This Is What ...
We've Now ... Come To ... !?!
Friendships Are ...
Simply .... ABUSED ....
People Now ...
DON'T Have A Clue ... ???
What Their ... " Friends " ...
Are Now ... INTO ... ?!?
Coc' or CRACK ... !?!
Or ... White or Black ... ???
Friends WILL STAB YOU ...
In The ... "Back" ... !!! ...
These ARE Words ...
YES Based ... On FACT ... !!!
DRUGS Will Make Some ...
Be Like ... THAT ... !!!!!
Friendship ... " ODDS " ...
Have Now Been ... STACKED ...
Like The ... " Cards " ...
In A ... MARKED PACK ... !!!!!
Maybe You ...
HAVE Got ... GOOD FRIENDS ... !?!
KEEP Them ... "Close" ...
Until ... Your End ...
DON'T DEFEND ...
... " Acquaintances " ...
They WON'T LAST ...
Long ......................... Distances ... !!!!!
They Are ... QUICK ...
To YES ... " Jump Ship " ... !!!
When You ... START ...
To TEAR ... A P A R T ...
Things INSIDE Their ...
.. CALLOUS Heart ... !!!!!!!!
SELFISHNESS ....
and JEALOUSY ....
" Acquaintances " ...
Give THIS For FREE ... !!!!!
This Is Why ...
I ALWAYS .......................................................... FLEE ............. !!!!!
From These ............................
........ " FRAUDS " ........
Who .....
TRY TO ... "SQUEEZE" ... !!!!!
ALL THE ... Goodness ...
OUT OF .... Me .... !?!
These Are ... " THOSE " ...
Once Known As ... CHIEFS ... !!!!!
On These GRIMEY ...
.... London Streets ....
I Hope ... By Now ...
That You Can See ...
Friends AREN'T ALWAYS ...
....... " Trustworthy " ....... !!!
Some Are COOL ...
But Most Are ... FOOLS ...
Who Are ... Simply ...
Human ... GHOULS ... !!!!!!!
This Is NOT ...
How I've Been ... " Schooled " ... !!!!!
I've Been SCHOOLED ...
To .......................................................
Avoid ... " Duels " ...
With These People ...
Who Will ... FUEL ...
....... ANGER .......
DEEP Inside of You ...
People ... THIS ...
Is My ..... Poem .....
About .....
" Acquaintances & Friends "
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 8:29 PM UTC
some people say that they want to remember all the memories
the moments of excitement, anger and lust
but if those people knew what reality was really like
they would understand why all i want to do is forget
life is full of liars
full of cheaters and frauds and skanks
and no one is real. absolutely no one.
the skies are grey and the weather is dull
and dense coal black game stagger among the clouds
squawking and squealing
and staring you down with black beady eyes as you do the deed.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 3:34 PM UTC
I come home to get away from the hate
Get slapped for being two minutes late
Look for the mother I used to know,
When had I become so slow?
She doesn't love me
She hates me
With the rest of the world
The people who claim
To love me the same
All lies!
Frauds!
You don't love me!
You only use me
Because I'm the only one left
Because she left
You rather it was her in the picture frame
You wish you could be saying her name
Yeah I guess I'm better off dead
No one would miss me anyway
It would just be another day
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 6:24 PM UTC