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ryn Dec 2014
Opposites
Whitest of white against the darkest of black
Tossed around in the biggest of waves; I'm but a tiny speck

Prominent like the moon out on a sunlit sky
Attempting to live again after every night I die

Time slips by... The days have come and then gone
Drawing the curtains of dusk; to unveil the arrival of dawn

To everything else we should be indifferent because for each other we truly care
At opposites we stand for I am here while you are there...
#opposites #antonyms
Continue reading...
CORNEL PUNK Oct 2014
THERE ONCE WS A STUDENT NAMED GEST
There once was a student named Gest.
Among all his classmate,he's best.
He dumped all his books
and followed all
cooks.
Which lastly he failed much the rest.
#limerick
Continue reading...
Kyle Howard Oct 2014
The Reaper
Death awaits
Beyond the gates,
Of the mortal walls that we call life.
The man that's there,
Gives an empty stare
And carries a heavy scythe.

An abstruse hand he lends
As he tends,
To be generous in this fateful gest.
The lost soul reaver,
The great bereaver
Who delivers your eternal rest.
#death #afterlife #reaper #grim
Continue reading...
Mateuš Conrad May 2017
o, chryp i trumna, na gest!
o, chyrp i trumna, na gest! (co polak wie... żyd skargi! i  jemu ten warty holocaust! konieć! twe ulice, nasze kamienice... m'eh kości.... twe pyrh... w twe total: m'eh kości i zwane kamienice... te teraz zwane ulice, o skarge zwaną: izrael).

bardzo łatwo zabić kogoś,
                                                   tym czasem,
samym czasem jest łatwo...
                   w tych czasach tak samo....
                                           bo powód?
*nuda!
tak nudno, po protu żyć...
nie-zwykle, bo tak po prostu... żyć...
ogier i w ranek... jak niby rynek.
                                          w bieli snu
               albo w czarni targu.
                           o tym!    na rozkaz cie,
roztrzelić mamy w dal na sens: oto traf;
                adwant... w cierpliwości
nadać: w imie ojca, i syna,
                     i ducha... świętégo...
you're going to study in oxford
with that gob's worth of demands?
rozmáchá... unfold.
i'll be honest with you...
that's actually ukranian idiosyncrasy...
isn't so much a case of language
          unsaid,
            when so much of it is
      being said;
we'd like to have said, and read:
              a volume for a pressure for less;
let's say that...
   and then imagine ourselves riding
bicycles in the countryside,
rather than suggesting ourselves to prescribe
ourselves the image of ourselves
  riddled by inner-city beijing e.g.
Continue reading...
Sana Oct 2015
Let Me;
Against the gentlest ashen bones n’ flesh
I brush my skin and devour this gest
Driveling to stretch these moments last
For let me relish this spell afore;
My beloved becomes my precious past

On this illusory floor of lustrous dreams
I smash the glass of self-esteem
Tapping and whirling until I’m bereaved
For let me evanesce in pulse afore;
The hour is struck of my beloved’s leave

I pluck the leaves of my insanity n’ grief
And brew it well with my rusty belief
On this unsullied tongue I taste the wine
For let me drink before they lift;
Walls around my beloved’s shrine

Over the tormented waters;
I build a wharf and cast my woes
And I lay in peace as a sleeping child
Whilst averting noises n’ my cries
For let me rest in peace afore;
Veils are laid as my beloved dies
Every weekend I just rush back home to spend whatever moments I am left with my family (God knows). There is no greater blessing than love of our parents. So in the poem I just tell myself that its ok to be carefree at times, and its ok to run after your foolish desires at times as long as you can cherish those; for once you are deprived of the greatest love (for death is inevitable), none of it would ever be the same again; what pleased you once would never please you again as much. The music I listen to with my father; the taste of food I enjoy with my mother; the same food and the same music would always be accompanied with pain.
Continue reading...
Sethnicity Jun 2015
message in a bottle
i'll die of a bottle cut my neck lays, drips
Waiting for re sus citation
Wanting rec i pro city  
tickle down monopoly

Aye diabolical necklace ripped
Watershed light on Plateau Vistas
Wishful thinking washed up beached whales
Supernovas pangyrize death seen shaded in roses.

i dye bottle called negl i gents
Water wars UN nest estuary
When pet roll eaves seed li n e wall
its cash flow exsiccate ration al  

If i could fold lyricigami tighter
you could read or di gest and
your actions would still gather
dust on the shelf of apathy

You would kick coke bottles
filled with hot air and promises  
on the sahara ocean shore and
wonder why waves didn't clean
the sand off your feet.

Take your hands off the wall
its time you can't by and by
demarcation in between
life in blood air in water

put oil in sea
what seed grows money
what Sun loves Farther
away to love Slaughter

Earth mother dawn gone
man i p u late den der her
thirst is everything a
mess age nad e bac le
reed into everything..
#poetry #in #mother #earth #*** #oil #bottle #message #sethnicity #wallits
Continue reading...
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
słowem o życie
spier*dalaj!
                                                 ha ha!
stonoga w pończochach
czy mój palec dribble dribble
i pseudo Ronaldo Caesar kiwa,
lazy wachaniem, rękopisem kćuka?
mara jakiegoś życia w rąb
epitaph; urodzony i zgon roku
dnia, mesiącem, pa pa (gest ręką,
szyfrem: do wi dze nia).
Continue reading...
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
niby polak
nam wszystkim dopisują, biel
skóry! demokracja ozorem ich
znaczy tyle samo co bydła krew!
o rękopis pizd, hu ha,
rękopis naprawde: no, ten
łók walii! nagle w nad-kilometr
łokciem w dal i ruch z przodem,
łokciem między afery kilo wiepsza -
nie wyryte w kamień, tak nagle od
przysięgi? katahez brak? co ja pytam
od narodu w nagłej dumy z papierzem
i pieprzem?!
o cud? ha ha! cud? ha ha! kicham i
to samo mam co wy raptem pseudo-żydem.
lepiej jeden bałwan w drugi bałwan tropem
w mgnięcie oczu na stopienie miecza w rtęć...
i mówie: PO LI TY KA?
to przybliża twardówke nad osioła gest:
by równać się z kimaniem kozioła w ząb chat chat chat?
że kimanie jest równe kiwaniem z luzem na
obydwie rubryki tak w palette sauerkraut -
to sie zgadzam po polsku impromptu;
ale ta kobieca przepaść... nagle przepaść...
ale też nagle okulary przeciw-słoneczne,
i wieczna noc, o której zawsze wspomne, by
zaćmić dzień.
Continue reading...
Gerry Aldridge May 2016
Everywhere
Everywhere

I see you everywhere.
Around every corner,
Up every stair
You are there.

I catch a glimpse
Of your hand, your hips, a swaying skirt,
Or a leg, a shoe that belongs to you.
Only to have it snatched from sight.

Was it her?
Was I right?

A familiar gest spotted in a milling crowd
A split second recognition of something I know
So unique it can only be you.

Is my mind going round in circles?
A scratched record of a fleeting second
Recalling a moment
And playing it over and over again in my head
For my eyes to dream of and see.

The next time we meet
I’ll ask- Was it you?
But then again, perhaps I won’t
There is no need to.

(Gerry Aldridge)
Continue reading...
best to remain unnamed Mar 2013
Racquetball remembrance
You are all wrapped up in your hostility remarkably
Handsome with that impish grin, hand playing
With the hem of the defensiveness I’m in.
You always step just a bit to close to test
Something in this
To gest at something
Better than this competition,
You would like us to both win.
Bite your lip again I like to think
You are more than a mistake that’s not mine to make,
Sometimes
I think…
I should let you win
And if you came here to press on my skin,
Pull at the edges of my uncertainty,
I might just let you in.
Continue reading...
Vilene Joubert Apr 2011
there is a saying
There's a song in my heart
I cannot sing
Only because
You're not here with me yet

So many things left unsaid
So many words spoken in gest
Was it all truth
Or have I been deceived

I have gone through my process
Something you've been lingering on
I got clean
But I cannot really see a difference in you

Why am I still sitting here
Waiting for you to come home
Have I been blinded
By the one thing I never believed in

Love is blind
I believe it now
Continue reading...
Tearani C Feb 2012
Confessions to the brown kid
You are the color brown.
It’s silly but when you say
It’s cuz I’m brown huh,
I’m smiling for another reason.
You are open to the summer sky,
Free feeling like my favorite season.
The ground under stumbling feet.
Ready to catch me,
Your stable reserved soft so warm.
You are all around me,
Awe inspiring astounding.
Leave me calm and centered, and heart pounding.
You’re the heat, flickering in front of me.
Flames fluttering, spontaneous,
the smell of musk, earth and sweet smoke,
Swirling, and taking me in.
Words unafraid to be spoke
You spoke then,
Whispers of the truth,
You know I’m broken.
Coals warm and glowing.
It’s the words you give to me,
No it’s the subtle sway in your walk,
It’s the sincere sound of your voice,
That one look when you talk.
No none’s lost in gest ,
Its that feeling I have deep in my chest.
When I cry , and you don’t reach,
Because you love me.
It’s in the way you never called,
Hopped in the car to get me.
Let it be said I can’t know
What you feel, but I know,
That you love me, I can’t begin to know
What you gave in hopes
that right now I’d be happy.
If I could say one thing ,
And have you know that I mean it.
Whisper one truth in the hopes that you’d see it .
I never chose him because you weren’t worth it.
I would give you my heart,
But half has been engaged,
Now I’m lost in myself choked by the haze.
And I say it again,
My choice was made for me,
I cannot win;
I guess I’ll just say,
You’re just barely more
than my very good friend.
Continue reading...
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2017
Metzger von Dresden / the retracted step
metzger von Dresden

i'm pretty sure i'm the butcher of Dresden... feuerstrum contra blitzkrieg... yes?

goof to know that
merely
speaking german
is politically
incorrect...
gut zu kennt;
thank ****
that i speak
               polischen.

the retracted step*

perhaps it was always going to be
a cannibalistic fest,
  the monopoly of pixel paper,
as to how, and why,
   people so akin to each other in
social status, would desire climbing
over each other,
      and how they would always
play the sycophnt card to seek
a redeeming closure, but never find it,
i.e. a sycophant card to
brustle up with the so-called
"gatekeepers" of a near missing
"adventure" in being socially mobilised
to climb toward a furthering,
and an ahead...
                   it seems i will have to work
with the space i already possess -
in the number of over three thousand
examples... to have to retract a step,
by step, by step...
             and it can only be apparent,
how finicky and easily avoiding
dialectics people are
bound to succumb to,
     how despising and how self-despised
they are becoming,
          how authentic work
is discouraged,
   shunned, manhandled and sad,
a sadness that only calls forth a crushing
hammer-head to a snail's shell...
  i have no understanding of man,
for i seem to be barely a man worth
settling himself in claiming such a title...
what can you make of man,
if all but man is that which is worth
making offense at the wrong word,
wrong ettiquete,
wrong prance, stance, duty...
                among these things,
why do such a memorable number seek
refuge in god,
       if not simply, to escape the toll
of man...
                  the blackened shadow of
a bell chime, the advent of epitaphs,
   and a servitude to bring no rewards for
fellow occupants,
but merely a gest without a jesture's
prank,
              solemnly bleak and scattered like
one's ascriptions of love done, said...
         man is no creature worth
pity, for it is man's curelty against a fellow
that distances the gods from our
affairs...
     if man was truly the helpless attache
of the peak of Olympus,
he would not find the gods so un-forthcoming...
we nibble at the toes of the sincerity of
divinity,
        yet we eat off the table of man
being man unto man,
         and not daring to cusp the artefacts
of the original cleptomaniac Prometheus...
perhaps i wronged, but have i erred?
erred enough to only suffice to wrong,
without being wronged?
i'm no more immune to wrong as i am
not more immune in being wronged...
        but then again, i guess,
it's hard to insist upon a cosmic Netwonian
ambition of causality,
there is no equilibrium to speak of these days,
there's a cause, but an unbalanced effect...
as there is an effect, but an unbalanced cause...
perhaps all is "relatively" simple
in units and numbers,
  but within the major architecture of
the human experience that's language...
there's the awry angles of spite,
               destitute attempts at correction,
a falling in line without
             a compulsory cry for *charge!
     dragged down to the depth by an achoring
weakness...
                man, once more,
a failed attempt.
Continue reading...
David Lampert Jun 2018
Ode to my *******
.           Oh
.           middle
.           finger
How    I do        need
thy      simple    gest
to         handle   the
***       holes      who
oft       cross       the
rue      of my     day
concrete, pattern, or shape poetry
#middle #finger #concrete #poem
Continue reading...
Sierra Jun 2018
I Don't Fear the Reaper
Dark skies are falling through the town, the mist
Strolls along the damp cobblestone walkway.
He comes alone, only with scythe assist.
Path and scythe, cruelly curved, long and grey.

He walks along, at all never stopping
While this wretched creature beckoned me near.
Held in place, but my heart not yet falling.
Angel of death, a lovely pale reaper.

Embrace of Death is all that gives me hope.
The one whom will take me into the mist.
Reaching in my *****, my soul to *****,
It submitting within his bony fist

Playing with heart-strings, his fateful gest
He, who delivers me eternal rest
Sonnet about the Grimm Reaper
#grimreaper #angelofdeath #palereaper
Continue reading...
Shiny Star Nov 2017
In the disguise of love
To you
A thorn will remain a thorn that ******,
even if it is a garden of heaven to rest.
Make your escape before the thorn tricks
you into believing it is a beautiful gest.
#hurt #bound #longingtoescape
Continue reading...
Anand Jul 2017
Digital Fling
I knocked and knocked
and shivered in the cold
But nobody did open the door

I was waiting outside
like an unwelcome guest
with no one to greet me
or to hearken to my gest

I come along every night
by your doorstep for just a sight of you
or maybe a whisper of your voice
If not, only a digitally inscribed word or two

However, my chances are few
since there's no one at home and there's nothing to say
I leave with nothingness for the night
To come again by the day
Continue reading...
Nermine Marei Feb 2021
Do you know that..
❤❤
Do you know that..

For love is a word,
it has a meaning,
delicate like a bird,
free without a ceiling,
joyfully they sing,
and fight for their being.
On the tree they swing,  
for love is healing...


Do you know that..

I'm at the door.. knock knock..
Still waiting .. no one opened..
I wish I could break the lock..
But deep inside I'm not welcome..
I can't enter.. there is a block after a block..
Love was accompanying me in every step I stepped..
For true love is rare, we should enjoy and not to mock,
I don't want to be pushy and make you feel stressed..
I accept being alone.. I'm not in shock
Having you in my life makes me feel blessed..
Still waiting.. still in love.. tik tok goes the clock..


Do you know that..

I think of you every night,
my heart had so many things to say,
but kept quiet,
In the dark... I followed a ray,
looked to the sky and the moonlight,
I saw a bay from far away,
wished to be there through my sight,
taking with me the pain of everyday,
was barefoot in the cold sand,
the waves hit the rocks,
and on my skin I felt the water spray.
Suddenly, I saw you there on this Fairyland,
smelled the seabreeze,
you held my hand,
thought it's the right moment to seize..
My eyes said it all... in every breath I breathe...


Do you know that..

I wrote so many words,
hidden, never been sent,
we walked in different roads,
still every word is felt,
and has its own scent,
as they were truly all meant...


Do you know that..

There was something we really missed,
we never had the chance and kissed,
it's not about the way I dressed.
In every way, I always did my best,
and all I got.. is a thank you for the gest...



Do you know that..

Life is like a boat,
in the sea the storm hits,
to make a long story short,
for the storm, the boat lurches and spins,
people strive for life, young and old,
dreadfully it sinks,
some people drown and others float,
as if they were born with tails and fins,
far away floats a wooden board,
the perseverant wins,
the apathetical is not aboard,
and the failing says it's not my fault...


Do you know that..

Pensively.. I watch the flowers in the Spring and and count the leaves in the Fall,
ignoring whatever tomorrow will bring..
happy or sad, big or small,
will be happy with everything,
will overcome the obstacles and demolish every wall..
To every hope I will cling,
focusing and moving towards my goal..
To the stars.. I stare and think,  
wondering if I gave my all..
The Shining Star gave me a wink..
Telling me with pride.. to stand tall..
❤❤
Nermine
13/1/2021
#hope #love #lock #broken #heart #life #think #stars #sky #happy #sad #spring #fall #sink #storm #kissed #boat #waiting #bird #word #meaning
Continue reading...
Indumini Ama Ranasinghe Oct 2018
Walks
Out into the great great land of West,
a lad met a lady all dressed up in red.
"Ahoy now wait. Don't scurry away.
Take my hand and let me guide thy way."

She stopped short, startled in dismay.
"Now young lad, don't step beyond your grace.
I can do no such gest. It is best to tread alone this way."

The young scout, deaf to refusals at hand,
stepped closer, till she could feel that he was indeed a man.
"I'm no boy thou can fan away.
I give no flatterings to Love. Thou shalt follow me
till we both age or die young with disgrace"

With no buzz she followed his trace.
Her long red dress turned maroon with age.
Walk and walk, be sure to sing not to buzz.
"I'm no bee but a bird in a cage.
I have no freedom, I have no will.
I have no courage, no bravery.
The strength I took to trim my hair,
and wear hardy shoes and wander the woods,
is all gone in one moment's gloom.
Be it joy in the crooked man's eye.
Be is happiness woven into a ring.
Be it Time that will sew the wounds again,
and the scar, I will cherish till my dying day."

Like a hymn she would hum this tune.
Like Fate, he would carry her till he could
put her down and whisper gently and softly,
"Now my bird, we have come to a halt.
I see no light beyond the horizon. Thou made me believe
in such foolish games. I've danced to your tune.
Thou shalt sing no more, for I have no rythm in me.
Freedom is what I can give. Let Age carry you alone,
whilst it will let me sleep."

The bee in a bird's role could finally see,
The blossoms, soft and weak
are her residence,
not a weary man's cave with no sheets.
#poetry #walks #lankanpoetry #hiarpoetry
Continue reading...
James M Vines Sep 2015
Working People
Forty hours a week never gest the job done. Turning wrenches and busted knuckles is how things get built. Steel beams with red hot rivets, long welded seams on flat iron plate. Miles of highway laid out with tar and cement in the hot summer sun. Bridge foundations laid and mighty buildings sent spiraling skyward. Machines that run around the clock to weave and knit things we wear. Bakeries  that can cook anything we care to eat. By the sweat of our brows we earn our daily bread. Hoping to make a better life than the one our parents had. On a day reserved for rest and reflection, let the world know that the greatest of us is sometimes not seen, but in the things that were created, we leave our mark from behind the scene. The working men and women of America are the true heart of the machine.
Continue reading...
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
from a soviet post scriptum
post scriptum:

     sowiecka chmara...

sowiecki: szmer szarości...

wolna ręka
       na viß-à-viß
         obojątnego ciała:

co podobnie wita...

    "                 "
        moze... moze i moze...
    ale nie to: ...
                     inclusive of
        apparently without
a cliff-hanger.

        mordo-rył-śliną-w-***,
a potem:
         o czoło w
                          błoto:
              fú!
   (double stress on
the exclaimation mark)...

- by zbawić
                   Dawida,
  kim a nawet i kto,
     w, na zero zastygł
                  w posąg:

ruchomym na skinienie
          małpięj rękí...

   kim to wita jego niby-nikim...
'eno moi...
               a ja nadal:
w szereg!

   pytam: daleko tam do
podłogi fiołkiem latać
            poza gzyms?

dasz pióra?!
            (orthography
is... a case of actually applying
diacritical marks...
don't worry england,
russia has only butter to mind
in...

   back ь and forward я...
           apparently)...

                                  źle ci, człeku?!
to co ci w morde opętaną
do grzechu nad lud?!

       no własnie: mi to samo!
co?
              a co?            a
                                        gówno!

­serce mi gnije, i serce mi:
pęka...

         od jutra: nigdy od wczoraj!
to i czasem zapomne
                      tatuaż: precz...
a lepi świnski:
                            jeść, jeść, jeść;

co tam: grzemota?
                      niby rudy jid'y'ski,
a to tes, do kurwidołka gest...
                
               niby on: ń'cem!
        
                                хорошо?
Continue reading...
Michael May 2019
No Graveyards
We are a stubborn people
Easily led by any wind of doctrine
We are called to be peculiar
A priesthood in flock form
We go against the grain
Of a world that ironically is insane
Of its greed and pursuits
It needs and rotted fruits
Before us has been set
Life or death as of yet
We chide at the thought
Of being predestined
Even bought with a price
Because it would make us accountable
What a glorious word for the Gospel
Predestination
We are a predestined nation
Once to freedom and worship
Now enslaved to our own debauchery
Where is the graveyard for the preborn?
Where do we go to mourn?
Pray and fast Jesus said
You can move mountains in that gest
The government of the soul
Has disobediently been shunned
We don’t want a king or potentate
We want to have our fun
No rules (means no rights), so be it God said
That is how I will judge you
When the scrolls are read
So bow now before the King
Rehearse your prayers beforehand
And edit the lyrics before we sing
It is right to be wary before His throne
So take all thought captive to Christ
Stop your complaining, it is annoying when you moan
Take account, judge thyself
Serve and sacrifice
Broken and contrite
That is what is pleasing to our Lord
Copyright 2019
Continue reading...
Semi-literate Poet Sep 2018
Black Bullet Proof Limo
And the Limo gest keeps driving further and further, faster and faster away from ANu truth.  A maniacal little red bird driving fast.... real fast...in the hills of northern California.  And me on foot with my butterfly net trying to catch it.
I'll still catch her if she'll fall!  But never cage her soul at all.
Continue reading...
IrieSide Nov 2022
Jacob
A logical takedown
presented and countered
a mystical gest
and strategic retreat

I squared up with God,
and he was the same

Donned the artillery,
and organized forces
armed as Khan
with the world's finest

I squared up with God,
and he was the same

Targeted his pawns,
the weaker ones
and sniped them
though they grew stronger

I squared up with God,
and he was the same

Disintegrated logic
evaporated power
and fury
replaced by humbleness

I squared up with God,
and he was the same

A breath of defeat,
and a simple recognition
of who it is I'd been wrestling

I squared up with God,
and he was the same
Continue reading...
Ken Pepiton Apr 2020
A walk a mused by a novel
Holiday, in my realm, April 20, 2020

The cannot avoidabinoid system connected to the global brain
kicks in on a global scale, the effect of Covid's
19 shoot, miss-scores
amiss,
coming down to bounce, one point
in the big game
played right,

20, 4-20, seeing in common, this:

As ****** Madness was lying, so is
Money Loving Power


Read from right to left sense if if you wish a game, where the key is

a single line in a poem... Background Dan Brown curiosity tickler,

if I could be him a day, I'd do it.
He is very disciplined in his musings.

This can be called a holiday, 4-20-2020, and we can all stop lying
about believing some of the lies we tell.

We can be elders making suggestions, that all king-subject orders,
be converted to common sense self governing,
being owner of one's own self,

erase-nothing, and space a while, take a little think into a nap...

any king in time of peace could, take a little think into a nap...

responsibility, ability to respond to ifity re-ality and now, and all, y'know,
man? Man, wombed and un, en
dowed, gifted with certainty in certain situations, like

this works, that did not, re-cognosticate, di gest my suggestion


be claimed individual - how shall we comfort our selves?

be still, and know.
These are changed times, I changed, you changed, the whole world changed... people are in need of simple silly poems... but there are plenty of those
#beaut
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Tammy Cocagne Mar 2019
Darlin’
~Dreams never rhyme~

When you feel someone
but his thoughts are not of you..,
chasing,..longing
.. that he’ll feel you too.

Can’t turn it off,
Whats one to do?
Keep pining away,
..for a fresh start anew?

.heartbeat is slow
aching to know.,
his simplest thought
When I know.,,
I will not...

My mind is stunned
disheartened and shunned,
yet my feet cannot run,
..can’t even imagine..,
..nor begin to fathom,
not knowing his love.

Was it all in gest’
Perhaps a test?
Do hearts ever heal?
Oh darlin’ I wonder,
Was it,..is it real?
..just need to rest,
...a long peaceful slumber.
It’s where I still find you.

I’ll think about it tomorrow
Yes, a new day awaits,
..more bittersweet sorrow.
My heart may just break,
I'll pray.., I'll wait.

~Only in time~

Written by
Tammy Cocagne
3/27/19
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Quiet Nov 2020
untitled (II)
we wear the faces of those we love,
like glove of lovers mask,
we bask in their aura and are left unfamiliar with our old faces,
but trace a new etch by way of nuance and gest impressed by their forms and the love they express.
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KorbydAngyle Jul 2020
Emulsified Step to the Sociable
Emulsified Step to the Sociable
Twinkle winkle wit unsavory boxes strict no effort is that what which goes inside it ( is what that witch )
( you know the plastic air filled ones )
Wealp in a cast on a cot of cotton dyed maroon as a despot of the dead air govern
Crypts find death then afraid those with no particular place find you
( and find you they do )
Pretend favor pretend fervor ripe stream of show off socialite tall girls feel a giant instills flat to curls   ( and could tales tall be bold and you a protagonist coalesce )

Back down a course of actions striking rather poorly as tonight in we go as together we cry back out on the dot then on the dot dot dot its been a social scene
( lie rant quip tirade scold besmirch and electronically sign honey I also listen )
Leaves from our bodies believe an arrival collecting and a face perceived
( bees from a hive don't tithe while beasts in dungeons are still killing )
As truth allows that's how they usually play with pity deceive and as stars look for you to tell it is as thus more returns and just I trust
( yet a bust ****** you gest a jest tuna invest not wear a vest the best )
Yet assembled creation and understood what was one's clout and pass  passes as either forgetful or more time than you'll know and not by the eddy that truth makes me happy
( souls for the taking brutality is a god of more than one dimension if you take your pain with coffee and aspirin )
If you're actually confused dip simply past the shrill confused chain take it in burp and at a portal  fly  in reverse at a stage ahhh to learn of the shadows and explain
( of port all were born the anger was not for your scorn but callous of the last meticulous structured well to do action of self immortalized house keeping thy did fast with intention of well being )
i know it's wordy but if you try windows narrator with the female English voice, it really funny enough, makes sense of it!
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— The End —